Harry glared at his toy soldier coldly. He tried concentrating again but it was no use; he has found that if you weren’t calm you can’t use the "thing’. He huffed and put his knees to his chest, laying his cheek on the two of them. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. Whenever he caught himself straying from this, he viscously squashed the unwanted thoughts. Ironically enough, he thought of "squashing thoughts" as well. It was infuriating. He sighed and sat up, stretching his arms as much as he can in his confined cupboard. A rapping noise brought him out of his peaceful stupor, "UP!" his aunt shrieked. Her voice honestly made his ears bleed, he wondered how Dudley can deal with it and still be the favorite.