Five-year-old Harry James Potter watched his cousin, Dudley ride his brand new bicycle. The bicycle was one of Dudley's many birthday presents. Harry tried to convince himself that he didn't care about the bike but as he gazed at the shiny red bike, he felt a pang of envy. Harry wished he could have a brand new shiny red bike. Maybe if he was really good, his aunt and uncle would give him a bicycle for his sixth birthday.
Over the next several weeks, Harry was on his best behavior. He did his chores to the best of his ability, he was extra polite to his family and he didn't voice a complaint when Aunt Petunia didn't offer him a slice of double chocolate fudge cake. Harry loved cake but he wasn't going to risks angering his guardians by asking if he could have a slice of cake.
It was a week before Harry's birthday. Harry was dusting the framed pictures on the mantle. He was standing on a chair so he could reach the pictures. Harry noticed Dudley enter the room. Dudley waddled over to the sofa with a glass of milk in one hand and a chocolate chip cookie in the other hand.
"Do you want a cookie?" asked Dudley innocently.
"No, thank you," replied Harry. He ignored Dudley and continued with his chore.
Harry wasn't fooled by Dudley's deception. Dudley wouldn't offer Harry anything out of kindness. Harry had learned that the hard way. He had offered Harry a ride on his bike a few days before. While Harry was riding the bike, Dudley went crying to his parents and told them that Harry had stolen his bike. Harry had spent the rest of the day locked in his cupboard.
Uncle Vernon made is perfectly clear that if he ever stole from Dudley again, he would be sent to an orphanage. Uncle Vernon had made this threat before, but Harry always took it seriously. Harry knew what the orphanage was like. Uncle Vernon had told him all about it. Harry didn't fancy being sold into slavery. Harry's guardians treated him like a servant, but they never shackled him or beat him. Harry shivered at the thought of being on the receiving end of such treatment. Knowing what happens at the orphanage made Harry feel lucky that his aunt and uncle allowed him to live with them. The stories that Uncle Vernon told him about the orphanage were scary enough to give him nightmares.
"Mummy! Daddy! Come here! Harry spilled my grape juice on the carpet!"
Harry turned around on the chair he was standing on. He noticed that the white carpet had a dark blue stain. Vernon and Petunia entered the room.
"What have you done, boy?" roared Vernon.
"I didn't do it!" Harry protested. "I was dusting. Dudley spilled the juice."
"How dare you blame my Dudleykins for your behavior!" Petunia shrieked.
"Remember what I told you about the orphanage, boy?" threatened Vernon.
Harry's faced paled and his eyes widened with fear.
"Please, Uncle Vernon, I'll be good. I promise. I'm sorry that I spilled the juice," said Harry.
He hoped that Uncle Vernon wasn't considering sending him to the orphanage.
"It's good that you're sorry," said Vernon. "I think you should apologize to Dudley."
"I'm sorry, Dudley," said Harry. He tried to make his voice sound sincere. Harry tried to push down his anger when Dudley smirked at him.
"Alright, we won't send you to the orphanage," said Vernon.
Harry felt relieved, but he held back a smile. He wasn't out of trouble yet.
Harry was sitting on his cot in his cupboard. His uncle had banished him to the cupboard for the rest of the day. The worst part about being locked in his cupboard was boredom. He would be let out before bedtime to take a bath.
Harry tried to brighten his mood by thinking about a band new shiny red bicycle. He hadn't asked for the bike yet. A sudden thought occurred to Harry: If he didn't get a bike, it would be all Dudley's fault! Dudley had caused them to be angry with him! Harry's anger towards his cousin made him forget his boredom. He brooded over what Dudley had done for quite a while.
Aunt Petunia let him out for his cold bath. Dudley had used up the hot water when he opted for a shower. He finished his bath within ten minutes and went back to his cupboard. Harry eventually fell asleep. His dreams were quite strange. Can motorcycles really fly?
It was two days before Harry's sixth birthday. Harry had tried to be really good. He had completed every chore that his aunt and uncle gave him, he didn't ask for seconds at mealtime, and he avoided being alone with Dudley. He didn't want to give Dudley another opportunity to get him in trouble again.
After washing the supper dishes, Harry got the courage to ask the question. He found his uncle relaxing in his armchair watching the evening news. Aunt Petunia was sitting on the sofa. Dudley was playing on the floor with a toy truck.
"Uh, could I please get a red bike for my birthday?" Harry blurted out.
"What!" shouted Vernon. "Why would we get you a present? Is it not enough that we raise you, feed you and give you a roof to live under!?"
"Uncle Vernon, I'm really grateful for everything you do for me. I really am," said Harry. He showed his uncle his 'grateful smile'.
"Well, you're not acting very grateful," said Petunia. "You're just like your parents. You don't appreciate with you have."
Harry tried to push away the pain he felt when Aunt Petunia mentioned his parents. Would his parents have given him a bike?
"I can be more grateful. I'll try real hard. You got Dudley a bike for his birthday and he's never grateful..."
Harry knew he had made a big mistake when he saw Uncle Vernon's face turn purple. According to the color code system that Harry invented, purple was the angriest color that Uncle Vernon's face could get.
"How DARE you?!" Vernon shouted. "You will not insult my son again!"
Before Harry had time to apologize, Vernon grabbed him by the arm and pulled him onto his lap. Harry knew what was going to happen next.
"I'm really sorry," said Harry meekly as a last-ditch effort to avoid what his uncle had in store for him.
"I bet you're sorry now, boy," said Vernon as he positioned Harry over his knee.
After Uncle Vernon had spanked him, Harry needed to be alone so he could cry without Dudley calling him a crybaby. He went to the only place where he had any privacy - his cupboard. Harry lay on his cot and cried softly into his pillow. He wondered if Uncle Vernon would have spanked Dudley if he had known Dudley spilled and juice on the carpet and lied about it. Dudley never got punished. He tried to console himself by thinking of something happy. He thought of his flying motorcycle dream.
'Maybe if I'm really, really good and more grateful, they'll get me a bike next year,' Harry thought hopefully.
'When I grow up, I'm going to buy me a flying motorcycle!'
Harry smiled at this ridiculous thought. 'Flying motorcycles don't really exist, do they?'
In five years, Harry would find out the truth about flying motorcycles.
a/n: Thank you for reading my fic. If you're wondering why Harry believed the lies Uncle Vernon told him about the orphanage, here's my explanation. Harry isn't stupid but he's still young enough to believe everything that adults tell him.
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