Second Chance to Live | Harry Potter

Chapter 1

Harry's body ached as he moved, sleeping in the cupboard always hurt his back, he could have slept in their third bedroom but that room for Dudley's second bedroom for his toys.

"Wake up brat! You need to make breakfast!" A loud voice screamed. It was his aunt, Petunia Dursley (nee Evans). As soon as he was able to reach the hobs it was made his duty to make breakfast every morning, a deluxe buffet for their monster of a son, the whale of a husband and the stick wife, while he barely got any scraps.

But today... he felt different... like he was meant to be somewhere else. He stood from his hand-made mattress and stretched. He hissed as his back cracked. He opened his cupboard door to see no one, they were at the table waiting for their food. Vernon (the whale) sat at the head of the table, reading the newspaper, Petunia sat beside him reading a magazine while Dudley (the monster) played on his game with a bib around his neck.

He made his way to the gas and started cooking, when done, he gave them their plates, and as always, he waited on the side while they ate. Once they finished, they left the table, no thank you, with a mess. Harry sighed and cleaned the table, he munched at the leftovers, just so he had something. He heard the sound of metal opening and closing, the post had arrived.

"Boy! Get the post!" He heard Uncle Vernon yell. He stopped doing the dishes and made his way to the front door, when he got there, he found three letters on the mat. A bill. A postcard. An envelope of yellow parchment. Harry took all, then stopped, staring at the envelope, staring at what was addressed in emerald ink.

Mr H. Potter

The Cupboard Under The Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Harry turned the envelope over, and found a purple wax seal. It was a coat of arms, surrounding a large letter H. Why did this seem familiar to him?

***

Harry made his way to the kitchen and dropped the post on the table, he stared at his letter in quiet wonderment while Uncle Vernon took the postcard.

"Marge's ill. Ate a funny whelk." Uncle Vernon read.

Just then, Dudley brought the Smelting stick down hard on the table. "Dad! Look! Harry's got a letter." He exposed.

Jackass. Harry thought to himself. Uncle Vernon snatched the letter away. "That's mine!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yours. Who'd be writing to you?" Uncle Vernon laughed before he actually read the envelope. His face went pale.

***

The boys went flying into the hall and threw themselves against the door as it slammed shut.

"I want my letter!" Harry demanded.

"I want me stick! Dudley demanded.

Harry and Dudley made a furious play for the keyhole, but Dudley's size proved too much and Harry, glasses dangling from one ear, settled for the crack between door and floor where he saw Uncle Vernon's thick black shows pacing back and forth.

"Vernon. Look at the address. How could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?" Aunt Petunia panicked.

"Watching. Spying. Following us. We both know the dangerous nonsense your sister and her husband were mixed up in." Uncle Vernon said.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back. Tell them we don't want..." Aunt Petunia asked.

"No. We'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... I'll burn it." Uncle Vernon said.