Muggle-Raised Champion

No More Freakishness

Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.

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7:30pm

Monday, 31 October 1994

4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

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A tired, sweaty Harry Potter trudged through the rear door at number four Privet Drive later than usual. Almost without thinking, his feet took him into the little laundry where he reached up and pulled down a pair of pants and a shirt from on top of the cupboard. Having placed them on the tiny bench, Harry began shucking off the overalls and undershirt that he was wearing before throwing them straight into the washing machine.

He'd learnt very early on that traipsing through the house and up to his room after work was a very bad idea.

Aunt Petunia nearly had a fit the first time that he'd left a trail of sawdust from one end of the house to the other. In fact, that was one of the very few times that Harry had actually been hit by his aunt. His Uncle Vernon, though, had had no such restraints and had shown his displeasure with Harry thinking that it was alright to come home and have a shower and get changed before making his dinner.

And after over three years, Harry now had the routine down pat: come home and straight to the laundry to change into the clothes that he'd left there, followed by scrubbing his arms and face in the basin before shaking out his hair from any loose detritus from the day's work and then, finally re-entering the kitchen.

After that, there was dinner to make and the cleaning up to do, not to mention any chores that he'd been assigned for the day. Only then could he finally have a shower and, if he was still awake enough, attempt to do some homework ready for school the next day.

Of course, that was his routine now. The first couple of years that he'd worked at Keating's Wood n Furniture, he'd only worked weekends and holidays. But for the last year and a bit, he'd added working every afternoon after school as well. All that extra work was murder on his school results, though. He figured that that was why Uncle Vernon had renegotiated with Terry for the extra hours.

All through primary school, Harry'd known that coming home with better grades than Dudley was a very bad idea. If Dudley hadn't beaten him up for it, then Uncle Vernon made sure that he knew the inadvisability of that idea with a few well-placed slaps. And then there were the numerous times that both his cousin and uncle got in on the act.

Then had come high school where Harry and Dudley had finally been separated – Harry to Stonewall High and Dudley to Smeltings. With the two cousins at separate schools and especially with Dudley being away at boarding school, Harry had allowed his natural academic prowess to slip through. By no means was he anywhere near the top of the class, but he was definitely in the upper reaches.

And then Dudley had brought home his report card from Smeltings at the end of their first year of high school and Harry had been forced to understand just how badly he had slipped up. Every day that holiday he'd thanked his lucky stars that he was out working from dawn until dusk every day.

The second year, Harry'd tried to curb his ability, but it was hard, especially when his teachers already had an idea of the level to which he could perform. He'd even attempted to immerse himself in subjects that he knew Dudley wouldn't even consider taking: wood working and art and even home economics. Not that it did much good – his marks were still light years above Dudley's.

Thus, Uncle Vernon's solution of having Harry increase his hours at Keating's to the point that if he wasn't at school, then he was at work, and if he wasn't there, then he was at home doing chores. Somewhere in there, he managed to find the time to do his homework, although, admittedly, most of that time was at lunchtime at school.