Another Place To Be Hurt...

As it had done, for every summer that had passed, the scorching sun beat down mercilessly upon the streets, of Privet Drive, causing all of it's inhabitants to retire into their perfectly groomed house's.

But not everyone had the luxury of being away from the heat. One person, same as they were all summer's, was indeed out in the hot sun. Although they found it odd, the neighbours were now used to the scrawny little teenager working in the garden. Though they still wondered why the boy didn't work in the evenings, when the harsh glare of the sun had eased down.

But this did not change the fact, that little Harry Potter was working in the glare of the sun, on his hands and knees, trying to plant the fresh rows of crops.

He knew-and feared-that, if he didn't finish his list of chores soon, he wouldn't receive any of the mere amount of food that he desperately needed. His barley feed stomach had nothing to line it, and he couldn't help the groan of protest his stomach gave, at the thought of the food at Hogwarts.

Slowly straightening up, from his bent over position in the soil, Harry wiped a muddy hand, across his sweaty brow. He wanted nothing more than to remove his cousins old t-shirt, that was slung over his bony frame.

He longed for the feeling of a subtle breeze, to cool him down, gliding over his hot back, but, he knew on pain of punishment, that this, would not be allowed. The Dursley's had strictly warned Harry, about what would happen if he did. The reason was clearer than day, it would be immensely difficult to come up with a convincing lie to explain the bruises that covered him, and marked him as a freak. Differing between the healing yellowy patches that covered his skin, to the swollen purple welts, that crossed his skin.