aldersprig: drawing of the author (LynLyn)
I have an idea, but these are the false starts on the way. Content warning on the second one: child abuse

All apologies to J.R.R. Tolkien



Harry Potter lived in a hole. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing to sit down on or to eat. No, Harry Potter and his Aunt Petunia, his Uncle Vernon, and their son Dudley were currently living in the finest hole money could buy.

It was a very nice hole, with a large-screen TV, all the latest in video games, and three separate bedrooms, or, at least, bed-sections. It had food enough to last for several years, or, with Vernon and Dudley eating, three or four weeks.

It belonged, in title, to a co-worker of Vernon’s, and it was quite a ways out in the country, as such things went. The cooking in and of itself was an adventure, the place was large enough to have many places to look around, and it had no stairs and thus no cupboard under them in which to lock Harry.
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