Chapter Text
To the public who didn't know Mr and Mrs Dursley, they were a perfectly normal couple with a son and a niece they generously took care of after her drunk parents died in a car crash.
They were normal and a peaceful family. They earned modestly and spent modestly. Their house, number four on Privet Drive, was as normal as a house could be. It was always clean and presentable. Some neighbors called them good while others called them unfair for specifically how they treated their young niece.
She was a small kid with way too long hair, always dressed in her cousin's big baggy clothes, rolled-up sleeves and tied-up trousers. Even with such a wardrobe she remained clean and her hair was always braided.
She was quiet and always kept to herself. Her teachers liked her because she always did her work on time, she never complained and was obedient.
But her teachers noticed how she avoided anyone else in the class. They noticed the marks on her hands or the way she shrank at loud noises but they remained quiet. After all, it was not their problem.
Not everyone was so ignorant. Some teachers tried throughout the year but it was always the same response: "She fights with her cousin and his friends."
After that, those people started pretending everything was alright. Everything was always alright when it was not their problem.
Harriet was sitting alone in the corner during the lunch break like usual. She was doodling with her small pencil on the edge of her notebook. It was the last day of school, the last time she would see these people. She allowed herself a small private hope that secondary school would have kinder students.
Footsteps thumped on the marble floor as three shadows fell across her page.
She didn't need to look up. She knew who would be there.
Melissa, Nora and Bethy.
They were the primary school second bully gang after all. The first was her useless cousin's one.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?" Harriet muttered, still shading petals.
"Isn't the charity case talkative today?" Melissa sneered, voice dripping venom despite being only 10.
Harriet ignored the taunt. After all, her cousin Dudley had done a good job spreading among students about Harriet being nothing more than charity.
Ignoring them made them bored faster.
"Answer us," Bethy hissed, grabbing a fistful of Harriet's hair and yanking her head back. Pain flared across her scalp.
Harriet winced but glared back through her thick glasses. Nora plucked them off her face.
"Give them back."
"Why should we?" Melissa stepped closer.
Harriet's voice remained low. "Because I thought you wanted to move on acting like humans instead of stupid bullies."
Bethy tightened her grip and Melissa leaned in. "What are you going to do? Whine to your dead parents?"
Then Harriet heard the noise, the crack. Nora had broken her glasses.
"How dare you?" Harriet said, throwing a kick to Bethy's shin and Bethy yelped and stumbled, her grip loosening.
She was small but she had been able to live with Dudley. This was nothing for her.
Then it was chaos: kicking legs, grabbing hands, fists swinging.
Teachers' voices cut through eventually. Strong hands pulled them apart.
Twenty minutes later she was standing in the principal's office, patched up after the fight.
"What is this behavior?" the principal asked.
"She started it," Nora said and the other two nodded.
"Miss Potter, do you have anything to say in your defense?" the principal asked.
Harriet looked up to see him but without her glasses everything was a blur.
"Sir, where are my glasses?"
"They were cracked during the fight. Only one lens is undamaged," the principal said and a teacher handed her glasses back.
"Thank you," Harriet said, putting them on.
She looked around. It was the principal's office. She had been here before. Her gaze went to the other girls, all with messy hair and bandages here and there.
"Miss Potter, as I asked, do you have anything else to say in your defense?" the principal asked.
It was baseless. Whether she lied or not she knew that and she really didn't want to stand in this place for even a single more minute.
"I am sorry for all the commotion. Can I go, sir?" she asked politely, not looking at the principal.
"You may, with your aunt," the principal said. "She will be arriving soon."
Harriet's face paled but she didn't let her expression change. "I can go myself. There is no need."
The principal smiled. It was a kind smile but he didn't know what he had done would make things worse for Harriet.
"We owe her an explanation for your injuries, don't we?"
She nodded and prayed that her aunt would be in a better mood or her summer would be worse than her school time.
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Scrubbing the floor with the sorry excuse of a toothbrush was demanding. With every scrub her wrists and knees ached. The floor was cold, adding to her misery. Her stomach growled. She had not eaten anything since the morning. Another foodless day. Perfect.
She had known the moment her aunt entered the principal's office with her fake smile and dramatic politeness that this was not going to end well. She had been stupid to even hope her aunt could be in a good mood when the matter involved her.
Her aunt, Petunia Dursley, hated dirt and messiness, but she hated something even more than dirt, and that was Harriet.
She treated both in the same way, though the methods were different. She made the dirt disappear by forcing Harriet to scrub it away, and she tried to scrub the freakishness out of Harriet by making her do all those things.
Harriet dipped the brush in the bucket, trying her best not to think about the fragrance of freshly made food. But the smell lingered and made it more and more difficult to focus on her task.
"You have to go around looking like your damn mother. Except for that black mess, at least hers were red and beautiful," Petunia had snapped months ago when Harriet burned a piece of bacon.
That day Harriet had found out her mother had red hair.
Some stray strands fell from her braid as she scrubbed the floor, her messy black hair she must have gotten from her father. Aunt Petunia had tried to cut her hair shorter several times in her attempts to make her normal.
But each time she cut it, the hair would grow back, making her even angrier and muttering about freakishness.
But on very rare occasions, especially when Petunia had important guests over, she would make Harriet wear some very old clothes of hers. Frilly dresses and such. She would do Harriet's hair herself.
Harriet knew it was all for show, but on those rare occasions when she was dressed up, her aunt would look at her with grief and pain, as if she were looking through Harriet and seeing someone else. Harriet had even once seen tears in her stoic aunt's eyes.
Harriet wondered what had caused such pain in her demonic aunt. Moments like these made Harriet believe that her aunt was not some monster and was capable of emotions other than anger toward her.
But these were rare moments. Most of the time, whenever she saw her, she would sneer and assign more chores, as many as she could.
She scrubbed harder. Thinking about her aunt would not do her any good.
Atleast she was better then him her uncle.
Harriet was scared of him truly scared of him.
He was large and angry . He loved her aunt but his love was not all flowers and blossom. He was a twisted man with weird morals and beliefs . He thought man were better just because they exist he never raised a hand on her aunt but he had stopped her from our growing her and just turning into a house wife. Even though Harriet didn't like her aunt she knew she was a smart and capable women. She had seen her aunt looking at her fellow friends with longing because she can't do what they are doing.
She remembered one day that rare occasional moment when her aunt dressed her up and was in good mood she was sitting with her collage friends and Harriet was given chance to sit on sofa and enjoy television.
" Isn't she lily daughter" one if the lady asked
" Yes she looks a lot like her don't she " her aunt had said smiling while looking at harriet it was first smile she had seen on her aunt when she looked at her.
" Tuney you did law with us your grades were best among us why are you wasting yourself living as a housewife " another of her friend asked
Aunt petunia looked uncomfortable and tried to smile
" You know Vernon don't like it , he thinks women should remain home"
" But what about your dreams tuney you were always so ambitious" the first lady said
" Sometimes we have to give up on dreams for family" her aunt had said but she had noticed the look in her aunt eyes.
Her uncle believed it was best for women to stay in home and prepare for being good wife's.
Whenever her uncle drink he would beat Harriet with his stick saying she was a freak. She need to learn to live like a girl.
Harriet body would ache but her aunt would turn blind eye to it .
But
Petunia always let harriet remain in her cupboard . She had forbidden Harriet to come out when he was too drunk or angry. Maybe she did cared in her own way .
She doesn't even let harriet cook for Vernon because once she did and it was not good and results were not the best.
That day was also a very bad memory to Harriet.
Vernon loved Dudley too much and taught him all nasty things .
She hoped for her cousin to not become like her uncle.
On bad days Harriet would curl into her blanket and pray that night pass and she doesn't have to face her uncle.
She finished her task and went to her cupboard.
Summer would be difficult but she hoped for better atleast hope was a beautiful thing even when it was useless.