Misplaced

Things to Break

Hello, my darlings,

I hope everything is going amazing for y'all. I hope y'all like my chapter and are getting excited for when it slowly picks back up!

The question is:

What are the Dursleys, thank you very much?

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Chapter 1:

Percy did not hate much. He hated closets, skull masks, and being away from his mother.

Oh, and the Dursleys. 

Unfortunately for Percy Jackson, he slept in a closet, skull masks haunted dreams since he was seven, he hadn't seen his mother after grabbing a potted-plant, and Dursleys were who housed him. So, yes, Percy Jackson struck out with what he hated, but he also lucked out with what loved he loved. He loved the sea and the stars. He loved story-telling, fake fighting, the colour blue, pancakes, fish, horses, bathtubs, his mother, water, sea creatures, magic, and most importantly Perseus Jackson loved Harry Potter.

Though he didn't get to enjoy most of what he loved he had Harry Potter to keep his days going. When one cooked, one cleaned, one told stories under the dark, the other jokes in between breaths, and they both held hope.

Harry Potter was just about as scrawny as Percy Jackson with the same black hair and build. There were two defining features that set them apart. First, the lightning bolt scar that rested on Harry's head under the large bangs. Secondly, their eyes. While Harry Potter's was green as emeralds, Percy's reflected the sea. 

So, Percy didn't hate a lot of things but being woken up by a heavy hand slamming against the closet door was quickly finding its way onto the list.

The sound shook the two away, and they waited for whoever was at the door to open it. Trying to untangle from each other, the two boys struggled in the confined space that they were quickly growing out of. The door shook open and Harry shot out while Percy took his time crawling out.

"Uncle" Vernon -while Percy thought as Harry as his brother, that was one thing he did not want to inherit because honestly, who would want to inherit that as a family?- stood there, angrily hunched over, his face purple.

-So it was going to be one of those days-

Percy tuned out as his "uncle" started spitting at the two. By three years, he knew the drill.

First, they were ungrateful little brats who didn't deserve the Dursleys "kindness" -Percy always wanted to get Vernon a dictionary for his birthday, so he could tag the pages and words he had trouble understanding the meaning- and that the only way he could pay them off is to do whatever he wanted.

Second, Breakfast. Percy didn't need to listen to that because that was Harry's job. Percy normally worked outside because he didn't have "that freakish thing that stood on his face" -Percy swore that the next time someone called something of his brother's freakish, his dam was going to break and Percy would start throwing punches.-

Third, Ungrateful. Basically the same deal. Worthless.

Fourth, more chores.

And so on. By the time Percy finished counting the number of veins on Vernon's face and neck, they were released to "work".

Walking to the kitchen together -Percy would branch out and go to the backyard soon-, Percy leaned over to his quiet brother, "I swear, if that man gets anymore purple, Petunia is going to have to do the Heimlich." Snorting, Harry shook his head and Percy smiled.