The Sun's Rise

Today was just a normal evening for a young near eleven years old boy. He was currently fidgeting uncontrollably on his uncomfortable cot in the cupboard underneath the stairs as the normal nightmares plague his dreams. It's debatable whether the nightmares are just merely bad dreams created by his subconscious or memories of his times within the residence of his relatives.

Sometimes the boy thinks that it is a mixture of both or at least edited pieces of his past, like tonight's terrors where he relives his first few days of school with the good memories (like learning his name is Harry) to the average memories (the beatings at school from Dudley and his gang) to the horrible memories (like his punishment for giving his relatives the note from school telling them they needed to buy him glasses). The boy really had very few good memories let alone even possibly happy ones.

His life was one of a friendless boy being shadowed by strange and terrible events that he had no understanding of why they would occur. Terrorized; both night and day by either his 'family' or 'the dreams' (his dreams) nothing seemed to change. He did the same chores with new ones added in from time to time; he received the same cold treatment from those who should cherish him. The boy had many scars but only one that defined him differently than the others.

The boy was rather plain looking with messy black hair, and a rather pale skin tone, he was scrawny and small for his age. He basically swam in his hand me down large clothes nowhere near his size. On first glance the boy appeared ordinarily odd. But in truth he was quite strange. He has many secrets not even known to him. The boy was strange in all senses of the word but his story begins a new chapter. The rather smart and brave boy begins his new trials. The boy Harry Potter faces his new world as time passes on.

As the sun light streaks through the windows of the rather average house that was number Four Private Dr., the residence of the Dursleys' and the juvenile delinquent according to the neighborhood, the first signs of life within the house visible began. That is not to say though that this moment is the beginning of the story as it began an hour before.

In the darkness that is young Harry Potter's living quarters the slumbering boy is suddenly awoken in a frigid sweat. 'Why me…?' Harry thinks as his soreness from the "chores" the previous day once again begin to act up like every other morning this entire summer. Images of the previous night's terrors he encountered easily reemerge into his conscious mind reconnecting with the first of many disappointments that were promises of happiness and change from his torture.

'Why would my parents leave me with them…?' Harry thinks as he remembers some of the treatment other orphaned children received in comparison to his.

'Why do they hate me…?' he wonders as no other word could describe the raw emotion held in his families eyes for as long as he can remember.

'What do they want from me…?' he remembers asking more times than he should rightfully need to within a life as it seems that all around him is an utter barrier of hatred and anguish with few acts of pity slowly breaking through the temporary cracks, which are repaired too quickly to ever possibly become anything else.

Harry takes what seems like hours to him just listening to heart beat in an attempt to put his night's revisits to the past behind him just like Mrs. Figgs suggested to him before, when he told her about his trouble with bad dream. She was his sole chance at survival in the Dursley's home as he would normally be sent to her home on Sundays or special occasions, to be honest her home smelt like cabbages and he still did chores for her but it was infinitely better there than at the Dursley's even when she had him go over all of her cat's photo albums.

Harry left his eyes closed as he did his best to follow her exercise seeing as the less distractions there were the easier it would be to complete. It might have only been a short term solution but it helped more than anything else did. He focused drowning out his sense of smell and touch as they were the only two to possibly pull him from his attempt at relief in his dark oblivion.

"Thomp… Thomp… Thomp… …" He hears from above as dust begins to fall settling on his skin mixing with his sweat to create a thin coat of mud. The sound confuses him seeing as it is a Saturday and those were not the dainty steps of his aunt. The steps are much louder than that and they are even louder than Dudley's powerful heavy stomps.

'Why is Uncle Vernon up already? He shouldn't be up for another two hours minimum, he likes sleeping in on the weekends. Aunt Petunia shouldn't even be up for another hour to supervise me cooking breakfast.' The steps dissipate from above him only to continue as a shuffling sound through the whole house being accompanied by random grunts and once or twice a rather loud "Bang".

'What is he up to?' Harry thinks as these sounds are foreign to him when coming from his uncle. The sounds were very familiar to him though as he had made them more times than he could count within the last week alone but it was nearly unheard of for the man to make these sounds within his home. His uncle was doing heavy manual labor or at least his equivalent of it. This does startle the young boy seeing as this is normally his job, but this is not the biggest thing to throw him off of his normal routine.

No, that comes from the footsteps of his Aunt which head directly to the kitchen not even missing a stride as only ten minutes later breakfast is beginning to cook. 'Ok, something is wrong here. They never forget to have me "earn my keep" so what's going on? Are they preparing to get rid of me and are just beginning to have my absence become normal to them?' He thinks knowing that he would not be able to stop them at this point. 'They have been having me do more work than normal this week and they did give me less water than last summer. Damn they planned this out spectacularly.'

Time passes on only adding to Harry's conclusion as he hears Vernon quietly curse. To Harry's honest annoyance Dudley hasn't awoken to the sounds of his parents. 'Dudley has always been a sound sleeper though, just another of his blessings.' As time passes the only sounds in the house are of the grease on the frying pan cooking, if he knows his aunt's pattern well enough, bacon the aroma is the one thing that will wake his cousin from his slumber without question in the morning.

Not a minute later "Thud… Thud… Thud…" is heard as his cousin comes down the steps proving his theory on the food correct. "Happy Birthday Dudikens!" is heard throughout the home being said by the mother.

'It's his birthday?' Harry thinks.

'Why am I here then? They always have me visit Mrs. Figgs… she must be unable to have me over today.' He thinks as conversation is passed around the table. Harry doesn't truly pay attention to it though as it makes no sense to him, he having never experienced a celebration like this before and probably never would.

Time goes on as the table is emptied and the Dursley's leave their home. The three of them don't even act as if another possibly exists within the house other than by one action right before the door to the house was finally locked.

Petunia made sure to lock the additional two locks to Harry's "room" as the family takes their leave from their home. 'Trapped yet again without any food or water' Harry thinks as he hears the car drive off. He instantly connects the irony from his thoughts to his normal day finding no difference.

'It's just another day in hell… I guess I won't get the small amount of pity I'm use to.' He feels tired and weak as the sounds of life outside his prison drift into his hell.

'If only I could know what's its like?' He ponders as his lack of liquids is being felt more intensely than before by his withered body. His bodies demands begin shifting pushing towards the slumber he fights as fear of what memories will surface in his dreams haunt his mind.

Solitude and isolation break him away from the world surrounding him aiding in his oppositions cause as his eyes begin to droop. His prison he wishes to escape is unyielding in tormenting him as his thoughts drift away from maintaining his relief from his only tormentor currently able to reach him.

He feels a burst of his energy needed to fight his currently enemy fade away right before he his slumber begins.

His wish is not granted.

Please do comment on the story as I find them very useful.

I know this chapter is slow but it will pick up later.

No update yet just fixing up some errors I found and changed on my personal draft. It should make this easier to read.