Scarred

One.

"Get up! Get up! You lazy boy!" the shrill voice was combined with a harsh banging on the door, dust was shaken loose from the ceiling and a large spider crashed to the floor and lay dazed for a moment. Sighing Harry Potter reached for his glasses and drew back his covers; he was unable to stand in his cupboard and had to squint in the darkness to see the door latch. Once out he grabbed a quick shower and donned Dudley's old clothes that were at least three sizes too big, and then he went downstairs to make the breakfast.

Dudley had actually managed to lose weight over the term at Smeltings, a strict diet and enforced physical exercise had actually slimmed him down from 'gigantic' to merely very fat. Of course he had moaned and groaned to his mother and now Aunt Petunia was feeding her 'duddleykins' anything and everything he wanted, which meant, surmised an annoyed Harry, that he would be back to where he started when the holidays finished.

Harry was annoyed because he was stuck cooking bacon and eggs and fried bread for Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley but actually was only allowed the crust of the bread for himself. It had been like this since the beginning of the summer and now, more than half way through, he was skinny and runt-ish looking. To make it worse he had finally grown taller, whenever he had the misfortune to look into a mirror he saw a beanpole with a haystack on the top of it. There was a small positive point though, the Dursleys were totally ignoring him accept when they needed a job done or breakfast cooked.

It had been his birthday last week, and he had received nothing! Nothing! Not even his Hogwarts letter had arrived for him, and it always did the same time as his cards and presents. Hedwig had been confined to her cage with a rather large padlock that Harry hadn't a hope in hell of picking. He had begged Uncle Vernon to let her loose but he'd just glared with his piggish eyes and told Harry that if the bird made any noise he would break it's neck. Thus poor Hedwig was in a bad way and looking bedraggled with being cooped up, Harry went to her now and gave her half of his bread.

"Don't complain," he whispered as she gave him a disapproving look. "It's all we've got," quickly then he cleaned out her cage as best he could through the bars using toilet tissue and an old washing up brush.

Aunt Petunia wanted the lawn mowed today, front and back and Harry was happy to oblige (after he'd done the washing up), the sun was shining hot on his neck already when he went out and it was only 11am.

It was an old grass mower and was missing one wheel, Harry struggled valiantly with it, half-way across the lawn he stopped for a breather, sweat pouring down his back and hitching up Dudley's old trousers and then he started again. When he had finished the back garden he went around to the front and started there, Aunt Petunia had snapped at him when he'd asked for a glass of water and now he was dying of thirst, images of waterfalls and ice-cold juices, flowing through his mind.

He was leaning against the wall taking a quick rest when he saw old Mrs Figg stumble crossing the road, quick as a flash (but not without a groan) he was up and jogging (it was too hot to run) to her.

"Are you okay Mrs Figg?" he asked politely as he helped her up, noting vaguely that she didn't seem all that frail.

"Yes dear, and thank you very much. Harry isn't it? Here have 50p for your help."

Harry nearly laughed, 50p would probably buy him a chocolate bar but not an ice cream, though it was riches compared to what he had now.

"No that's okay Mrs Figg-"

"Then perhaps just your Hogwarts letter will do?"

"I - What?" the 'old lady' smirked at him and straightened up as he gaped at her.

"Dumbledore decided to increase the protection wards around you Harry, no owls have been able to get in, don't worry, your friends have been told."

"No one told me," grumbled Harry, although he was secretly relieved that he hadn't been abandoned by his friends, "How do you know all this Mrs Figg?"

"Never mind that Harry, you need to get back to your mowing before your Aunt sees you. Take this then," and she thrust into his hands the brown parchment with the seal of Hogwarts before walking jerkily off. Harry stared after her wondering if the walk was contrived, she turned around then and gave him a wink that made him laugh, he tucked the letter in his shirt and then went back to the wonky mowing machine.

Later on that night Harry lit a candle (stub of) and read his letter, it was nothing thrilling, a list of books, and potion ingredients, the date of the new term (September 1^st) but to Harry it was a life line. It had been a miserable summer, there's only so long you can go without being bothered that your only family in the whole wide world hates you, and with no contact from his friends it had been much worse. He fell asleep with it held tightly in his hands his glasses still on and the candle left to weep wax over the side of a shelf like bendy icicles.