It's Just Harry Potter

Embarrassed (2)

Vernon had refused to let Harry start school, claiming he wouldn't get his chores done in time, no one knew about Harry anyway. Petunia watched as for the first time Harry stood up to Vernon.

"Bwut I'll do all my chores, and I really want to go, Dudley gets to," Harry said trying to stand strong, but staring at the floor the whole time. 

Petunia looked into those eyes. Harry was already so smart, yet they were denying something so basic. She knew if they let him Harry would excel in school. He was determined, but Vernon had said his part, and Petunia had already buried her deep-seated want for Harry to have a better life. She wondered if one day that letter would come, that dreaded letter, and although Harry may know how to read, he didn't know how to write, and no one was there to teach him. Harry wouldn't excel without going to primary school, but as Vernon said freaks don't need an education. A tear fell down Harry's face.

"No is no! And what did I tell you about crying? You don't have any right to be sad, we took you in!" Harry looked up but then quickly looked away from Vernon's rage-filled face.

Harry nodded his head and tried to look calm as he scurried to his "bedroom" Dudley didn't want to go to school, but yet they were denying education to someone who wanted it. Petunia felt sick. She took Dudley to his first day of school and had to yank him off her leg as he yelled and screamed. 

When Petunia got home, she saw a light from the cupboard. A little Harry Potter was sitting on the floor, with a sheet of paper and a nub of a purple crayon, trying to copy the words he saw in the picture book in front of him. When Harry would think back on this moment as a teen, he would feel embarrassed. He would be embarrassed he had to educate himself and embarrassed that his relative hated him that much. He would feel embarrassed that all he had was a broken purple crayon, and he would feel embarrassed he was hiding in a cupboard because he wasn't allowed to learn how to write. Evidently, in that moment, Petunia felt embarrassed too. She was embarrassed that Harry had been denied school. She felt embarrassed she was the one to deny Harry school. 

Next to Harry was the teddy bear, she had left in the cupboard about two years ago now. It was an even simpler time then. She could hear Harry cry more because he didn't bottle it up. She would see him smile more. He didn't have chores, and it was out of the norm to be hit or punished by anything other than a firm scolding and a timeout, but things were different. 

Harry looked up at Petunia, as she had been standing at him for a while. When their eyes met, Petunia couldn't pretend to not see the way Harry started to tremble. 

"I'm sowy. I just I just..." Hary stuttered "I just wanna know how to write like Dudley." 

Petunia looked at his set up. He was so eager. 

"You have three minutes to clean up and start your chores boy."  She sometimes wondered why she wasn't a good person because no one could deny that she wasn't a good person.

Harry looked down and nodded. A little tear slipped from his cheek, as he tried to carry all of the stuff he had gathered to learn from. As he walked, he wiped away the tear quickly with his oversized sleeve. Three minutes went by quickly, and soon he was sent to make preparations for dinner, weed the garden, sweep the floors, and clean Dudley's bedroom. Harry hated the last one. He hated seeing all thee things Dudley had that he didn't, but the one thing he wanted the most, was for someone to say I love you, but that was more unlikely than Harry getting one of Dudley's toys. 

Dudley's room was still relatively clean. Harry smiled as he looked at the toys. Ten minutes couldn't hurt. His toddler urges were betraying him. He just wanted to play cars, and play with the castle Dudley had. He wanted to play stuffed animals. He looked around to make sure no one was there and proceeded to play cars. He smiled as the cars bumped into each other. 

Petunia could have sworn she heard laughs from Dudley's room. She had never heard Harry laugh, what was he doing?

Petunia went upstairs to find Harry playing cars and laughing, but all that stopped when he saw Petunia. He dropped the cars and kept picking up. She liked his laugh. She wishes she heard it more, but what she did next would guarantee, she wouldn't. 

"We don't keep you here to play, boy. Playing is for well-behaved children, who listen when we say to do your chores and stop stealing crayons, books, and toys!" Harry quickly nodded. He didn't question it. He didn't laugh he just obeyed

Maybe if he was well behaved enough, he would get to go to school and play. Petunia wondered if this was good for a child, to never play, to never learn, to only clean. Of course, it wasn't, and she knew that, but she wishes she didn't. Harry came down a few minutes later, with a car-shaped lump in his shirt. 

"What is that?" Petunia asked grabbing Harry. She grabbed the lump, only to see it was a toy car. A small toy car. "How dare you steal from us! Vernon will deal with you later!" 

Harry went to his cupboard, even though Harry didn't go to school he was smart. He had another car in his hand. He knew he would be miserable after his uncle came home. He knew it would hurt, so to distract himself he played cars, and he felt like a normal kid. Even if he was in a cupboard, surrounded by darkness and spider, he still had a car and a bear. He was already being so ungrateful, he thought as he played. He wondered sometimes if the orphanages would be better, but they don't want ungrateful kids either.

Vernon came home that night late. The smell of alcohol on his breath. He heard what Harry had done, and dragged him out of the cupboard, and proceeded to kick, and hit the little boy, who couldn't hold back his sobs. By the end, there were cuts on his face and back. His stomach hurt from being kicked, and bruises had already started to form. Petunia came in a second later to see Harry in the corner sobbing. It hurt her knowing everything in him had to hurt right now, yet she just watched and told him to go to his cupboard. 

Harry sat there that night, in pain. It really hurt. Maybe someone would save him.