Nightmares on Privet Drive

A bloodcurdling scream. A flash of green light. Silence.

Harry sat straight up, gasping for breath. Sweat poured from his forehead. His heart was banging out of his chest. He'd had the nightmare again.

Suddenly, dust fell from the ceiling as heavy footsteps descended the stairs above Harry's head.

"Harry!" a shrill voice whispered forcefully as the door to the cupboard under the stairs swung open. "What the devil is going on in here?"

"Nothing, Uncle Vernon. Nothing," Harry responded, still trying to catch his breath. "Just another nightmare."

"Boy. I did you a huge favor allowing you into my house!" His uncle, a large and hairy man, stepped closer to Harry's pallet on the floor with each word. "I didn't have to be so gracious, you know." He was practically stepping on Harry.

"Yes, sir."

"I let you into my house, and how do you repay me? Screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night, horrifying my family! One more stunt like that and you'll be out on the street. You hear me, boy?"

"Yes, sir."

"To sleep. Now!" Clouds of dust rose from the floor as Vernon Dursley slammed the door shut. Harry tried to cough as inaudibly as possible; however, it was still too loud for his uncle, who proceeded stomping on the staircase, boisterously demanding silence.

Harry lay back down, distraught at waking up from one nightmare only to find himself in another.

The next morning, Harry sat alone at the table in the kitchen of Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England. He sighed as he slowly stirred his cold oatmeal. Harry wasn't allowed to eat breakfast with his so-called family. His aunt, uncle, and cousin had finished their warm breakfast of bacon and eggs and were now in the sitting room watching television—one of his cousin Dudley's favorite activities.

Harry forced himself to take another bite of his breakfast. The only way for him to swallow was to close his eyes and try to imagine what his mother's homemade waffles would have tasted like.

Happy birthday, Harry he joked himself as he ate. What can possibly be happy about this day?

When Harry finished his "meal," he washed his dishes and slowly went back to his cupboard. He lay down, hoping to sleep off a few hours. Sleeping was the only way to pass time at the Dursley house. He hadn't closed his eyes for two minutes before he heard a pounding on the door.

"Boy! What are you doing in there?" Suddenly the door swung open and before Harry could react, a large arm reached inside, grabbed Harry's shoulder, and yanked him out of his tiny bedroom. "You know better than to have leisure time after breakfast! As long as you're under my roof you are carry your own weight around here! What do you think this is, a babysitting service? Now go!" He threw open the door to the kitchen and hurled Harry onto the hard floor. "Clean, boy!"

A bit later, Dudley grew bored with watching television. He decided to go into the kitchen and pester Harry, who was almost finished cleaning the kitchen. Bullying was another of his favorite pastimes.

"Dudley! I just scrubbed that!" Harry shouted as Dudley marched around the kitchen, leaving a track of muddy footprints. Dudley sneered. This happened every day, and every day Harry got angrier and angrier at his cousin.

"Mum! Dad! Harry raised his voice at me!"

Harry heard the couch's squeal of relief as Uncle Vernon clambered to his feet and swiftly clomped into the kitchen. "That's it, boy! I've had enough of you!" His face turning a strange shade of purple, Vernon came at Harry. And just before his hand clasped over Harry's shoulder, the doorbell rang.

"Petunia! Get the door, will you?" Vernon bellowed at his wife in the living room. Hope filled Harry's entire body. Was this the light at the end of the tunnel? Out of excitement, Harry wriggled out of Vernon's grip and ran as fast as he could out of the kitchen.

"Harry! Get back here, boy, I'm not finished with you!"

The door swung shut behind him as he ran to the front door. Aunt Petunia was already there, peering through the peep hole.

"Oh my…" Petunia muttered to herself, half elated, half frightened. She unlocked the door and opened it slowly. Harry was filled with anticipation. Finally, when the door was opened, he saw green sparkling eyes staring into his own. He was overwhelmed with the warmest feeling he had ever felt.

Harry ran to hug the tall, pretty woman standing in the doorway.

"Mum!"