Inopinatum

The Dursely's were a perfectly normal family, thank you very much.

Mrs Dursely was a house wife, as she firmly believed that women didn't belong in the work place, she was a thin woman with matching thin blonde hair which blended into her equally pale skin, always pulled up on her head in a bun. Her clothes were always spotless, freshly ironed and always perfectly dull, and never anything eye catching or heaven forbid, unusual, thank you very much.

Her husband, Mr Dursely was a large man, graying dark brown hair and a matching bushy mustache which he took care on brushing with his prized mustache comb every morning before breakfast. he wore the same brown suit every day for work, perfectly pressed and ironed by his perfectly normal wife. He nodded and smiled at their perfectly normal neighbors on the driveway, hopping into his perfectly normal car and making his way to his perfectly normal job, Thank you very much.
The Dursely's had a perfectly normal son, 11 young years of age, blonde like his mother, but with a rather round (and often varying shades of purple) face and midsection like his father. The boy was an average child with a less then average Iq. Often seen playing, or rather rough housing with the other neighborhood boys.

The Dursley's lived on a PERFECTLY NORMAL street, in a perfectly normal house, a perfectly normal family with a perfectly normal life, Thank you very much.

But they had a secret , a secret that lived on their normal street, in their normal house, under their normal staircase. Which took the form of their nephew, a boy, much smaller then their own son, with a mess of dark curls, darker skin then their own varying shades of pale to Mr Dursley's angry purple, and green eyes which were possibly the most un-normal thing about his appearance and certainly not fit for a child who lived in the Dursley's perfectly normal home.
The Dursely's loathed to think of what would happen if anybody found out about their nephew's unusual-ness, so they settled on keeping him out of sight, (Other then the times where he was gardening the front of the house, trimming the hedges with a pair of rusty kitchen scissors which were very helpfully provided by Mrs Dursely, keeping the rose's and the numerous common flowers alive and budding.)

As previously mentioned, their nephew, or rather boy, as he was much more commonly referred to by his scowling aunt or Uncle, or the cruel teasing face of his cousin, Lived under the stairs. A cot was provided for him, though the Dursely's hadn't bothered to move any of the old junk that was kept there, such as the old hoover, and Dudley's rather impressive collection of broken scooters. The door had several padlocks placed on the lock, an extra precaution to keep the freak locked in, and out of sight.
Though unbeknownst to them, the boy had known how to unlock the door and it's many padlocks since he was a small child. Unbeknownst to them the boy knew how to do many things, of  which he shouldn't know how- or rather, shouldn't be able to do.

The boy- Harry, as was his actual name, though it was never used by anyone except his primary school teachers, was as un-normal as you could get, and his appearance, though apart of his strangeness, wasn't the real unusual thing about him. No, the most unusual thing, or most un-dursley-ish thing about him was that he had magic.

-.-.-.-.-.

The letter came after breakfast.

"UP!, BOY, UP!, YOU WILL GET YOURSELF INTO THE KITCHEN THIS INSTANT- OR SO HELP IT, YOU WONT BE HAVING DINNER FOR A WEEK." The door rattled as uncle Vernon banged on it with his harsh fist. Harry jerked out of his bed, blinking awake quickly, he could hear the harsh thumping of his Uncle walking away. Honestly, Harry was surprised the house wasn't shaking with the great oath stomping around like that, never mind with Vernon junior trampling around like an angry gorilla upstairs, his cousin had probably realized that it was time for Harry to make breakfast . It surprised him that the house was even standing with those two banging around, they'd seemed to make it their life purpose to resemble- and act like elephants, it couldn't be long until the upstairs floor caved in under the combined weight of them both, Harry hoped it happened soon.

Harry made his way to the kitchen, sidestepping the lego at the entrance of the door- he was used to dodging Dudley's un-funny "pranks" at this point, And continued through the kitchen towards the fridge. He could feel his aunts glare on his back as she watched him with narrowed eyes, she honestly thought that he was brave enough to sneak any food with all of his relatives in the room?

Harry busied himself with taking the bacon and eggs out of the fridge, placing them on the counter and grabbing the frying pan from the cupboard. His aunt and uncle were sat at the kitchen table, his uncle nose deep in the morning paper, scoffing at anything mildly interesting and muttering about 'those damn conspiracy theorists'. Aunt petunia was sat opposite of him a sour look on her narrow face, Harry made the mistake of making eye contact with her, her eyes narrowed and her thin lips pursed together, making them disappear from her face, a look in her pale eyes that made Harry avert is gaze quickly back to the now sizzling bacon. He knew what that look normally meant and he really did want some food today.

Dudley, as usual was sat in the living room, legs thrown up onto the sofa without a care and eyes glued to the Tv screen, where he was watching some cartoon. Harry couldn't be sure what cartoon it was- he wasn't allowed in the living room, nor was he allowed to watch cartoons. The only glimpses he'd ever gotten of the Dursley's Tv was when Uncle vernon was at work, and his aunt in the garden spying on Mrs Dawn and her husband next door, where he'd sometimes manage to perch himself by the crack of the living room door, just about close enough to hear and see what Dudley was watching. He hadn't done it in a while, not since he'd been caught by Uncle Vernon coming home from work, the bruises on his arms had taken ages to go away.

"MUM!, I'M STARVING" Dudley shouted from his spot on the sofa,"I WANT BREAKFAST NOW!" Harry highly doubted that Dudley, Dudley was starving, but he hurried all the same. He couldn't risk his Aunts wrath. 

Petunia glared at him more intensely, Vernon looked up from his paper, letting out a loud chuckle, "He's a growing lad. Just like his father that boy is, not wrong either," The humor on his face dropping when he looked to Harry "You heard the boy, hurry up. We don't have all day!" Harry nodded quickly, taking the cooked bacon from the pan before it burnt. He'd made the mistake of leaving it for too long before- Dudley's ninth birthday, his aunt and uncle had not been happy. He hadn't made the same mistake again. 

5 Minutes later Harry was placing 3 plates of fry-up on the table, two full English's, and one with only one slice of toast instead of Vernon and Dudley's combined 8, and no bacon, it was 'far too greasy' for aunt Petunia's taste. 

"Took you long enough didn't it!" Vernon exclaimed, no one uttered so much as a 'thank's', though this didn't come as a surprise to Harry. 

He grabbed himself half a slice of toast and leaned against the counter, despite Petunia's scowl a he did so. They never liked it when he ate. He stood, eating his toast and the Dursely's went about their usual morning meal, Petunia shaking her head and chatting away about how Mary and her husband Barry down the street were getting a divorce. Dudley was too pre-occupied with shoveling food down his throat, and Vernon didn't really seem to be listening to his wife either, only nodding and murmuring a "yes dear" occasionally, eyes not leaving the food Harry slaved over making them.

Eventually everybody had finished eating and now it was time for Harry to clean the pots, and then wipe down the kitchen sides, hoover the whole house, mop the kitchen floor, do the laundry, and then trim the hedges in the front garden. This was how weekends went for them, Harry doing the chores, while Vernon went to work (except of course, Sundays which he had off, where he'd usually spend down at the local pub with his colleagues or perched in front of the Tv) 

Aunt Petunia would take Dudley to the park, or Dudley would play out on the street with his friend Piers, terrorizing Mrs Figg's cats, or if they got too boring, the local kids, and when they got too boring it was time for Dudley and Piers favorite game, Harry hunting. Though they'd lost their spark in recent years, Harry was too fast for them now.

The shuffling clinking, and a soft thump alerted Harry, and everybody else to the delivery of the post. Vernon looked up from his paper, and turned to Harry 

"Go on then, be of some use for once" Harry found that very ironic since it certainly was not there precious Dudley making all their meals and keeping their house clean. But Harry nodded anyway, shuffling out of the kitchen and towards the front door. In front of it was a generous pile of letters, Harry pulled his way-too big shirt towards himself so it wouldn't obscure his view of the letters and leaned down, scooping them up.

He looked behind himself, making sure nobody was looking, Harry knew that there would be nothing for him but it wouldn't hurt to have a nosy, right? The Dursley's weren't watching him so he flickered through the letters, all addressed MR V. DURSELY. When at the bottom of the pile, there was a different name addressed. The letter was yellowing at the edges, there was a red wax seal on it, some sort of crest? , the writing was written in a fancy black script which Harry struggled to read with his old glasses, but sure enough written underneath ' Hogwarts school for witch craft and wizardry' was the name

Harrison James Potter