At ten years old, Harry didn't really understand why his Aunt Petun ia and Uncle Vern on didn't like him.

He was a smart little boy, he knew it had to do with his parents who died in a car accident. His aunt, his mother's sister, apparently didn't have a good relationship with her. But Harry didn't understand why this anger, fear and resentment was being poured out on him. After all, he has no memory of them, he never knew them, how could he be at fault for their actions?

Harry was neglected, always put aside. At school, the other children don't sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, he had learned that very late.

Then his cousin Dudle y, a selfish and fat little boy, liked to take all the attention (and that his two parents loved to give him). So sometimes, when Dudle y was too difficult to manage, too demanding, Petunia no longer felt capable of having to take care of another child.

So she took Harry to spend the afternoon at your place, their neighbor.

Little Harry loved coming to have a snack at your place. You lived alone, not having a husband or a child of your own yet. In your house, he was the only child and you covered him with attention, spoiled him and adored him. With you, Harry felt like he was your own son, your flesh and blood and for the first time in his life, that he had a beautiful and living mother.

Dudle y had thrown another tantrum at his parents to go see a car explosion. There aren't enough tickets, Uncle Vern.on had given as an excuse. But Harry was the happiest person in the world. He was going to spend the whole day with you. Aunt Petun.ia practically threw her out your door and after a short exchange with the woman, you brought little Harry into your home.