Chapter 1
Harry Potter was once again immersed in the domestic chores of the Dursleys, his relatives who were averse to any kind of magic or imagination. Number 4 Privet Drive was in a state of impeccable order, not due to the Dursleys’ diligence, but because Harry took it upon himself to keep it that way.
He started his day early, even before the sun fully rose. He awoke to the sound of Uncle Vernon's alarm clock and dragged himself to the tiny bathroom he shared with his cousin Dudley. After a quick, cold shower, Harry went downstairs to prepare breakfast for the family. The aroma of bacon and fried eggs filled the kitchen, but Harry knew that the best he could hope for was a slice of dry bread and maybe a weak cup of tea.
As the Dursleys sat at the table, Harry moved like a shadow, avoiding their critical glances and murmurs of disapproval. Uncle Vernon grumbled about what Harry should have done better, while Aunt Petunia always had something to say about her nephew's lack of skill.
After the meal, Harry got to work on the household chores. The first task of the day was to clean the rooms of the house. With a cloth and a bucket, he moved from room to room, scrubbing and polishing every surface with a diligence the Dursleys clearly did not appreciate. He vacuumed the carpets, washed the windows, and then tended to the garden, pruning the plants and mowing the lawn.
The most thankless task, perhaps, was taking care of the cupboard under the stairs. This small space, where Harry slept, was always filled with junk and dust. He meticulously organized it, aware that this was the place where he was relegated to his own devices, a constant reminder of his status in the Dursley family.
In the afternoon, Harry did the grocery shopping for the family, hauling heavy bags back to the house. He had to make sure the items on the list were correct; otherwise, he would face Aunt Petunia's wrath. After that, he spent the rest of the day doing more chores, and in the evenings, after dinner, it was common to find Harry washing the dishes and drying the pots while the Dursleys settled in front of the television.
The routine was exhausting and monotonous, but Harry had a secret refuge: the moments when he was alone, the time spent daydreaming, and occasionally revisiting his fantasies of a different world, a world where he wasn’t treated like an outcast but as someone special, with a grand destiny. And despite all the frustration and hard work, these moments of escapism kept him hopeful for what the future might hold.
It was a gray, rainy morning when Harry Potter heard news that left his stomach in knots. He was busy washing the breakfast dishes in the Dursleys’ small kitchen when Aunt Petunia entered, carrying a list of chores and an expression of displeasure on her face.
“Harry!” she called, her voice tense. “I have something to tell you.” Harry, with soapy hands, turned to face his aunt.
“Yes, Aunt Petunia?”
“Your Aunt Marge is coming to visit us,” she announced with a hint of irritation.
“She’ll arrive next week.”
Harry felt a chill run down his spine. Aunt Marge was Vernon’s sister, and in their previous encounters, she had shown even more disdain for Harry than the rest of the family. She had an authoritative manner and a tendency to criticize, especially when it came to Harry. He remembered how she had mocked him during past visits, and the thought of enduring another long stretch with her made him anxious.
“And I expect you to behave,” Aunt Petunia continued, her voice nearly a growl. “She can’t stand disorder or bad behavior. You’ll need to make sure the house is in perfect order and that there isn’t a speck of dust anywhere.” Harry nodded, trying to hide the worry on his face.
“Yes, Aunt Petunia.” Aunt Petunia went on listing the tasks he would have to complete before Marge’s arrival: cleaning the house from top to bottom, preparing the guest room, and ensuring everything was immaculate. Harry listened to the instructions with a sense of inevitability. He knew that no matter how hard he tried, any mistake, no matter how small, would be amplified and used against him.
As Harry continued with his daily tasks, the idea of Marge coming to the Dursleys hung over him like a shadow. He knew the coming weeks would be even more challenging, with the pressure to maintain a perfect appearance and avoid giving Marge any reason to be upset. The task ahead was not just physically demanding, but also emotionally draining. He would have to endure not only the endless chores but also the criticisms and jibes that Marge was known for. Despite his feelings, Harry forced himself to stay focused. He knew that if he wanted to avoid trouble, he had to remain calm and do his best to ensure that Marge wouldn’t find any reason to complain. And in his moments of respite, he allowed himself to dream of a future where he could finally escape these obligations and live a life where he was valued and respected.