"Eliza, it's time to get up."
Silently, the girl opened her eyes and reproachfully looked at her brother. He nodded, sighing, "I know. You don't like it. I don't either, honestly, but it's Dudley's birthday. We have to make breakfast." She sighed, her eyes lowered as she sat up in yesterday's clothes. Neither of them really believed that they would be caught wearing the previous day's clothing. They were too used to it.
There was banging above them as Dudley, their overgrown and not very nice cousin came thundering down the stairs. It moved back up, just above them as he began to jump up and down on their stair. "Wake up Cousins! It's my birthday today!" They looked at each other, nodding. They'd better get out there if they wanted to be in the good books of their Aunt and Uncle. And not have any spiders fall on their heads this morning.

Uncle Vernon was the first to see them, thus his eyes bulged almost unnaturally. His abnormally large head and body were blistering with disgust at seeing them. He really didn't like them.

You see, 11 years ago, Eliza and Harry Potter had been dropped on their Aunt and Uncle's doorstep with only a note explaining that their parents had been in a car crash and had been unable to survive. The only surviving family were Vernon and Petunia Dursley, a pair of completely normal people who refused to see anything strange about anything. They were so ordinary that they couldn't handle the idea of the two children living with them normally.
They'd made room in the cupboard under the stairs and simply raised the children in there, cramping them in the same room for 11 years.

Elizabeth and Harry Potter were now 11 years old as of July 31st. Harry was a small, lanky kid with messy black hair. He had brilliant green eyes and pale skin that was evidence that he never got to go outside. He wore a pair of glasses that were always broken. But the most unusual thing about him was his lightning shaped scar that was in the middle of his forehead. Apparently he'd gotten it from the car crash their parents had died in.
Elizabeth had brilliant red hair and hazel eyes. She was just as skinny as her brother, her body underfed and pale. She had never been outside in her whole life, basically. She never really bore anything unusual on her body other than a large bandage all around her neck. It never came off. Harry and Eliza were twins and the Dursleys all made it a point to make them hate themselves as much as possible.

They made it into the living room, and both looked immediately as if they'd been pushed to eat slugs. Their cousin Dudley was waiting for them in the living room, his baseball bat in hand as he grinned. Harry grabbed his sister's hand, trying to pull her away as fast as possible. The only issue was that she hadn't noticed the bat as quickly as he had, thus being hit with it in the side. She clenched up, grinding her teeth together as she fell to her knees. Harry tried to help her up, but Dudley had already gotten her pinned down. There was no saving her from the overgrown boy.

Harry shouted, "Stop it! Please! She's had enough!" There was a clattering nearby, just behind them and he turned to see Petunia Dursley, who was watching her son as he batted down his poor female cousin. She spoke in a coo to him, "Dudders, dear. Let's not use your baseball bat to hurt your cousins. Let them go so they can go make you some breakfast."

Petunia was the kind of woman that looked rather like a horse. She had a long face and perfect hair that had been hairsprayed until it could no longer move. She had a pair of sharp eyes that hated even a speck of dirt on their light brown carpet. Once her son had decided to spare the two, she instructed them, "Go into the kitchen and make us all some breakfast. Boy, you make the pancakes. Girl, eggs. Do you understand?