Harry's depression started back in his 2nd year, he really felt like a freak because he could speak Parseltongue and even worse, the darkest evilest wizard could do too. The students at Hogwarts use to ignore him and whisper cruel things about him, they still do but mostly the Slytherins. But Harry could ignore his depression that year, all he really needed were his two best friends that didn't care what flaws he had because they accepted him for it. He was grateful for them.
The Dursleys were much meaner than they were in Harry's third year. Abusing was all they did to him, whether it was something little or big that he did. Like if he didn't hang out the washing, didn't clean the dishes right, burnt food, didn't clean the entire house.
Throughout summer holidays before Harry's 4th year, Harry had been feeling more depressed than ever. And oh, how he hated the Dursley's guts so much. Aunt Petunia always woke him up at 6 am in the morning and having to cook food for three people in the morning, and sometimes at dinner time, was really annoying and exhausting. He wasn't allowed to cook for himself, it was just pure slavery for what the Dursleys put Harry through.
It was one early morning; Harry was up at 4 watching the bright yellow ball rise over the land in the distance. He could never get enough sleep.
"Harry!" Aunt Petunia screeched, followed by her bony knuckles tapping against the door. "Get down here and start making breakfast!"
Harry groaned from under the blankets. It's too early for this! He thought as he got up and looked around for some clean clothes.
"Are you awake, boy?" Aunt Petunia screeched again. She banged the door with her broomstick. The noise was so loud and annoying, Harry couldn't go back to sleep even if he tried. With a spark of annoyance, Harry ran his hands through his messy hair and put on his glasses.
"Potter!"
"I'm awake!" Harry shouted with an eye roll. Oh, how he wished he could just be dead sometimes, so he doesn't have to do these chores or even live life. He'd rather be at Hogwarts, but even so, he would still have to complete all his work and study for little exams.
Aunt Petunia opened the door and wrinkled her nose at the mess called Harry's room. "Come down and start breakfast before your uncle wakes up, unless you want a morning punishment from him," she ordered. She was about to turn around and close the door when she added, "and clean this room after your chores today!" She gave her nephew a disapproving glare as she shut the door and left.
It was another summer day of cooking and cleaning; however, Harry did not mind as much because chores meant that he was busy and being busy kept his depression away for a few precious moments. Harry was starting breakfast when his aunt came in and started cleaning the countertops and the table. It was her pre-breakfast scrub down while Harry cooked. It was a routine that happened every morning since the summer started. A routine they followed in silence as Aunt Petunia ignored Harry, only speaking to him if she caught him cooking something the wrong way.
Harry would have eaten Dudley's leftovers, but he just wasn't hungry, he was never really hungry anymore, so he started the dishes. Can't they just sodding cook for themselves, and not force orders for me to do like a house-elf, Harry thought, feeling a rush of anger boil inside him as he was washing the dishes. He just finished washing a plate when Uncle Vernon came into the room in his yellow checkered Pajamas and orange sleeping gown.
Uncle Vernon gave Harry an angry glare, picked up his favourite mug and walked over to the kettle. He looked down into his mug and grunted. "Boy, what is the meaning of this?! There is black stuff in the bottom of my mug! Are you trying to poison me?!" he shouted angrily, letting spit fly out of his mouth which made Harry wince.
