Summary: The Dursleys reaction to Harry receiving a letter from Hogwarts was, in reality, much different from what JKR portrayed. 5 years later Harry is still suffering the repercussions of that day when he hides from Dudleys gang in the Leaky Cauldron. Abuse fic.

Warning: This fic is based on material that may be sensitive to some, including rape, child abuse, physical abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, and coarse language among other things. I do not mean to offend anyone.

Dedication: To Little Miss Mione, the Godmother of this fic. To Rebecca, who supplied the pen and paper. To Mrs Clare Malfoy, for the awesome advice. And to Son Of Harry Potter, for all his help.

Letters poked through the letterbox.

Twitch.

Letters pushed under the door.

Sneer.

Letters stuffed inside the eggs.

Growl.

Letter shooting out of the fireplace.

The nearly eleven-year-old Harry Potter tried hard not to shudder as the metallic scarping of bolt from lock shook him from his troubled riviere. Harry felt his heart pound quicker as his uncle bent down and shoved his porky head inside Harry's cupboard.

"Harry. You can come out now."

Scrambling to obey his uncle Harry got himself out of the cupboard as soon as he possibly could. He was in enough trouble already.

"Four hundred and twenty seven letters." Vernon Dursleys voice shook with suppressed anger, "Four hundred and twenty seven letters all but destroyed my living room."

"Uncle Vernon, I—" Harry started, biting his lip nervously and looking anywhere but at his uncle.

"Look at me when you speak." Vernon hissed dangerously, stepping forward and taking advantage of his hight compared to the boy by leering down at him.

Harry's eyes snapped to his toes. His entire body was trembling. No… Please, please, please. No… I can't… No…

"Turn around." Vernon sneered, pushing Harry further into the room until the small of Harry's back hit the nearby dinner table.

"I don't know who sent me t-those letters," Harry whispered shakily, eyes darting around the room for a means of escape.

"I said, 'turn around.'" Vernon growled, grabbing Harry's shoulder roughly and turning him so his back was to Vernon.

Harry's small body froze up as his uncle planted his hands flat on the table in front of him and the first of the tears ran down his face, "N-No…"

"Shut up, boy." Vernon snarled, "This is compensation for the letters."

"Please, Uncle Vernon…" Harry whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut in a desperate hope that this was all just a bad dream as he listened to the zip of his uncles pants being undone, "N-Not again… Please, n-no more will c-come…"

"Shut up!"

A sharp crack of skin on skin attacked the room, accompanied by a harsh, choking sob from the boy.

"Now," Vernon panted sickeningly and bending his nephew over the table, "Stay still or I'll make worse."

Harry rested his pounding forehead on the table and stayed as still as he could with his violently shaking body.

Sitting just on the other side of the thin, swinging door was Petunia Dursley hugging her son tight and whispering soothingly to him, 'Not to worry, it'll all be over soon…' over and over again as her nephews agonizing screams pierced the otherwise cheerful summers morning.

A/N: Hey guys, back again. I'm glad I've re-written this prologue. I like it much better then the original. Well, gotta go. Don't neglect that little button down to your left that says REVIEW!