Harry gave out a rasping cough, casting his eyes to the ground at the feel of his Aunt's glare. Too large scuffed shoes met his gaze along with ragged jeans that pooled around his waist.

"Now see here boy, I want you to keep yourself away from Dudley this school year. No funny business of any kind!"said Petunia tersely, looking at him like the gum she had found on her nice pair of heels.

Harry gave a quick nod to show he understood and his Aunt's attention quickly turned toward her dear Duddlikins. He rolled his eyes at this before looking up at the gate of St. Grogory's primary school.

It was a nice clear day, if not excessively early as the sun was barely over the treeline. Aunt Petunia had wanted to get to the school early for some odd reason, causing a grumpy Dudley to trump down the stairs bawling for some breakfast beforehand. Of course Dudley never let a tear escape his tiny watery eyes during his little stunt. Tantrums were common with his fat cousin as he mainly used them to get whatever his tiny heart desired. Which was everything and to make Harry somehow unhappy at the same time. This time was no different as the tub of lard had wanted something that would take ages to make-pancakes, bacon, ham and hash browns-which had Petunia peeved off at him over the fact that they he was taking up so much of her precious time with cooking the dumb food. Never mind the fact it was all for her lump of a son.

The whole waking up the crack of dawn, screeching at Harry to get up, and make the small feast was in vain since now that they were here, they weren't doing anything. The school didn't allow anyone in as early as Aunt Petunia had wanted. Not so surprising honestly, even the people who worked for the school had more sense to be awake at this hour.

He gave out a huff of air to show his frustration, rubbing his throat anxiously. Petunia had heard from her chain of gossipers that a school closer to their house had open up recently-a little after the previous school year-and had immediately had them transferred. It was done eagerly for Dudley and reluctantly for himself. Uncle Vernon had wanted to use this as another way to buffer them from one another-"To keep his freakishness away from Dudley, Pet!"-but Petunia had rebutted that it would only cause rumors if they had them separated.

So here he was in an itchy second-hand uniform, in the cold of the morning, half hoping that in a new school he wouldn't have to put up with Dudley as much.

The sound of footsteps stirred him from his daze and he looked toward a prim looking woman in a sharp dress walking toward the gate. She was of average height with her long light brown hair tied back into a tight ponytail, she looked to be in her mid thirties. She made quick time of opening the gate and waited for them to approach her.

"Hello, you must be Mrs. Dursley." The women said pleasantly, giving Aunt Petunia's hand a shake and giving a small smile to him and Dudley.

"I am Headmistress Roemmele of St. Grogory's and from what my assistant has told me, you've been wanting to speak to me?"

"Yes, do you think we can talk in your office?" asked Aunt Petunia.

"Of course. Let's just drop off your son and your nephew off at their new class so they can go get acquainted with their new teacher," said Mrs. Roemmele, showing them to a nearby classroom and pushing the children inside.

The classroom was small, but big enough that it wasn't too cramped. It could hardly be called new since St. Gregory's had built itself in one of the rarer old buildings in Surrey. It cleaned up well enough if you ignored some of the cracks in the wall and the weird discoloration the new paint caused, the school probably wanting to brighten up the place with what they thought as cheerful colors.

The garish green on the ruddy bricks of the wall didn't make him feel any happier.

Mrs. Roemmele then introduced them to what was going to be his and Dudley's new teacher, Mrs. Lindel. Mrs. Lindel was a portly women, dressed in conservative clothing of a long skirt and a blouse and she styled her hair in a high bun. She gave both boys a look over her glasses before giving them a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you two boys. How about you two go sit down over in a seat of your choosing and color," Mrs. Lindel suggested bending over and grabbing a pair of coloring books and crayons from a drawer near her desk.

Dudley snatched the book and crayons quickly and waddled over to a seat close to the front and immediately started scribbling over the cover. Harry gave a smile of thanks, bowing his head slightly before collecting the material and walking calmly to a seat near the back. Far enough from his cousin that if anyone saw them they wouldn't even know they came together, let alone related.

Which was the desired effect he wanted. Over the years he realised that his family, if he could call them that, held no love for him. Being continuously booted out of the way for his cousin in school and by Aunt Petunia stopped him from ever hoping that they'd treat him better.

Now he went out of his way to blend into the background and be left in peace. During school he kept to himself which worked for Dudley in making the other kids dislike him. Then at home he did his chores meticulously so his Uncle didn't raise hell over him being lazy. He gave another wispy laugh under his breath at the hypocrisy of his Uncle calling him lazy as he colored a sun a blazing red.

The fact his Uncle demanded so much from a nine-year old orphan just because he 'put clothes on his back, gave him food from their table and a roof over his head' was ridiculous to Harry. That wasn't what family was about. Then again he was only related his his Aunt and Dudley so maybe that logic didn't apply to his Uncle.

If anything his Uncle tried his best to give him the minimum of everything. The clothes on his back were castoffs from his lovely cousin, who was almost thrice his width, made him appear as if he was drowning in the excess of cloth. Nothing was ever bought for Harry other than then his glasses. Then again the Dursley's wouldn't want to bring attention too much of their apathy of Harry if they allowed him to walk around blind.

The food wasn't anything to brag about either, much less be satisfied over. They were usually the scraps of the Dursley's meals, the food that none of the family wanted and that could never fill his belly. Dudley in his want to lord over the fact that he had more things than his smaller cousin would sometimes even stuff himself to the brink of sickness to prevent Harry from eating.

The roof so graciously given to him by his family was nothing more than a small cupboard underneath the Dursley's stairs. Dust and spiders were his constant companions in his cupboard. Leading to become nauseous from both the bites and the dust. Much as it was unpleasant, the cupboard did lend some advantages in that it barred him from the Dursley's most of the days.

He had learned early on that if he wanted to survive his temperamental relatives he would need to make himself as invisible as possible. It barred him from the Dursley's and their coldness toward him. Dudley couldn't get to him in his cupboard as the boy couldn't scrounge up the effort to get him out. It was a quiet place he could be by himself and pretend that his life was better than it was. It was also where he was locked in when the Dursley's felt he had done something bad as a punishment. They would only let him out to eat and go to the bathroom until his punishment was over.

The cupboard came second in his list of decent places, right after the garden. At the age of six, Aunt Petunia had drilled into him how to maintain the garden and left him to take care of the previously desolate looking garden. Petunia was horrid with gardening and it had been in sore need of care when he was assigned the chore and after getting into the rhythm of it he had truly started to enjoy gardening. His mouth twisted in a smile as he colored in bushes and flowers in greens, purples and blues. It was one of the more relaxing of chores the Dursley's gave him and he made sure to never let on that he enjoyed it. The Dursley's never liked giving him things that made him happy, it always irked him but he shrugged off their behavior like he always did. Not like he could change anything about it.

Harry was halfway through his coloring book before his positive outlook on the new school was dampened as Mrs. Roemmele entered the classroom at a brisk pace and began talking to Mrs. Lindel in a low muttering voice. He watched curiously as a shocked look crossed Mrs. Lindel's face and a cold feeling seeped through his chest, his grip on his crayon tightened as that look took over both womens faces.

He sunk lower in his seat, his head resting on his crossed arms. His previous cheerful coloring becoming slower with no feeling behind it. The sky that was a previous royal blue became a dark black which seeped into his garden making them turn an ugly dark green. The reason for Aunt Petunia's insistent want to arrive early to the school making itself clear as he continued coloring. Harry berated himself for thinking that this school would be any different than the last. It was always the same, he would be met with smiles by adults but the Dursley's would whisper in their ears lies. How he was a troubled child that did things for attention and stirred trouble just because. That he was no good, just like his parents. An unemployed alcoholic father and a whore of a mother.

Harry harshly dug the red crayon through a new page, giving it a large red slash.

Everything went downhill after Mrs. Lindel found out about who he 'really was'. Dudley had quickly found friends from their previous school and found more that he included in his vicious group of bullies. Harry then became the newest source of their entertainment as they couldn't bother paying attention in school.

They then graciously included him in a new game of theirs called Harry Hunting. And when they weren't running him ragged around the playground they were pushing him around when the teacher wasn't looking. All of this was turned with a blind eye by the teacher-"It's only boys being boys!"- and he repeatedly found himself at the end of her almost daily scolding.

"Harry, why don't you play over with your cousin and his friends?"

"You need to be more sociable with others my dear."

"I think if you tried being friendly that you could really get along."

"Trying never hurt, both in your school work and socially. Please remember this."

He became numb to this, deciding that he'd just take it and go on with his day. It was becoming quite tiring having to deal with the adults scorning nature toward him but again, what could he do. That was his thought process of surviving to the next day until Dudley and his cronies pushed too far.