Regrets

Dumbledore?

Dumbledore desperately tried to calm down the enraged woman, who eventually, gave in and sent the boy to clean the garden, and much to Albus' pleasure, at 7 in the morning. Even though it was summer, the cold breeze refused to leave the child, making him shiver in his torn, worn down clothes.

Petunia acted kindly towards Albus. Every time Dumbledore mentioned Harry, Petunia would always talk about the favoured Dudley, aunt Petuinas' son. After a while, Albus concluded that this was in fact, Harry Potter. His aura was tainted, much to Dumbdore's pleasure. 

"May I speak to Mr. Potter?" He asked, ignoring the surprised look on Harry's face, who had now came into the room, after an hour. He calmly walked towards the now trembling boy, his hand stretched out, intending to place it on his shoulder in a comforting way. Though mid-action, he stopped. He saw the fear in the young boy's eyes.

'What have the done to you...' He thought, his eyes saddened.
"W-what do you need S-sir?" Harry asked, still trembling. He mentally slapped himself, he wasn't allowed go talk to people, dogs don't talk, so why should he?

Petuina practically ran towards the child and slapped him for his insolence. She yelled abuse and occasionally yelled things like "Wait until Vernon gets home!" Which Harry flinched at the thought.

By this point, Dumbledore had intervened and had taken the shaking boy outside. Harry looked into the old man's eyes with a fear as they met each others gaze. Harry wasn't very good at reading peoples expressions however this emotion was clearly evident on Dumbledores face. Glad. Glad that his was the way they were treating young Harry. Glad that his plan of deceiving Harry had actually worked. Glad that be could finally use the boy who lived as bait for fame. And glad that the glamour placed on Harry was working. This is the Dumbledore all of the wizarding world rely on. A fame consumed monster. That's who he was. That's what he'll always be.

Thanks for reading!
Bye!