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━Usually, a loud annoying feminine voice would wake up Harry by knocking on his door multiple times, just to let him know that he has a full list of what chores he was going to do with her and he was used to it, he can't just blurt out that he didn't like it because if he does, they'd probably be upset at him.
But he can't help but notice that everyone in the house was starting to ignore him, as if he wasn't there at all, like he was invisible and only call him if they needed him or they had to order him to do something.
It was his 11th birthday today.
Here he was. The boy who lived, Harry James Potter, scratching his lightning-shaped scar, making his broken glasses that was connected by a tape, askew.
He doubted that the family that he lived with has prepared something special for him and he was right. As he went down the staircase, everyone was gone except for a messy handwritten note that was attached on the marble countertop.
