It was a beautiful summer's day behind the bushes under Number 4 Privet Drive's kitchen window. Across the street, Mrs. Figg was walking briskly alongside several of her cats. Harry waved and she waved back.

Suddenly, Harry cringed as screams and wails came from inside the house. His aunt, Petunia Dursley, must have done something to anger her husband, Harry's uncle Vernon, again.

Not a moment later, the boy heard the front door squeak open and Dudley came wandering outside. He sat up, glancing momentartily at his cousin. Dudley hated Harry to the point where he treats his cousin as if he doesn't exist, but something seems to bring the two boys to be close for a moment when occurances happen to Petunia or to Dudley. (But never when it happens to Harry, though.)

Dudley sat not far from from where Harry lay, wishing as much as the next boy that his mum's screaming and his dad's punching would cease.

Tears brimmed in his sea-blue eyes and not for the first time, they wondered why this happened to them all.

"Wish we could do something." Harry muttered.

As much as Harry was hit, he wouldn't wish this pain upon his worst enemy.

"It'd be us next even if we tried. Mum's screaming is giving me a headache."

For a moment, no sounds of punches being thrown or verbal anger were heard. They did hear, however, hear the sound of a cupboard opening and then slamming shut and a Alcohol lid popping off. So his uncle had been drinking. That explained most of what was happening today.

The front door squeaked open again and Petunia limped out.

"Hey! You!" She always yelled at Harry unless they were outside, for fear of what the neighbors would think. "Bring me some ice! And don't take forever doing it!" Her voice sounded hoarse and newly formed purple brusies were growing bigger by the second on her arms and under her eyes.

Harry sped into the house as she heard his aunt say sweetly to Dudley:

"Dudders, you can either go to the Polkises or go up to your room if you would, please."

Which one Dudley chose, he wasn't sure. But he found Aunt Petunia in her bedroom, covering her wounds with makeup.

"Here you go, Aunt Petunia."

"About time! You're not nine anymore, freak! Move more quickly next time! Now leave my sight!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." But it was like he wasn't there, for she seemed not to have heard him.

He headed back to his favorite spot, the roseberry bush under the kitchen window. Not only were the berries a delight to snack on, but he was left alone there. Most of the time. On his way to the door, his drunk uncle blocked the path. Before he knew it, he found himself on the ground, deflecting a knee to the stomach. He got up, slowly, and attempted to cover his face and won. This time. But much as the 10 year old wished he could save himself from the usual emotional torment he endured, he couldn't. Phrases like, "Unwanted!" and "freak!" came out of his uncle's foul-smelling mouth.

Soon, black dots were beginning to form in his peripherials (feom yet ANOTHER punch in the head) and then the world faded from view.

- - -

Several hours later, Harry awoke to darkness and silence, which meant that everyone was asleep. The first thing that registered was pain. He HURT. Everywhere. His heart felt like it was being squeezed to death. His arms hurt and he had a massive headache. He knew because of the darkness that it was very late. He peeked at the clock on the wall. Midnight. He sighed. He wondered if he should just go to bed in his cupboard. No, he decided. He would go out to his favorite spot. It's not like his relatives would care where he was, anyway.

- - -

Tears slid down the little boy's cheeks. He wondered, not for the millionth time, what it was like to have a mum and dad and maybe even a sibling who loved you. He looked up at the night sky, sparkling with stars. A small smile showed on his face, just for a quick moment as a shooting star flew through the sky.

"I wish I may..." He whispered, though no one was around to hear his words.

"I wish I might...I wish something wonderful would happen in my life..."

His eyes drooped tiredly. As the next hour passed, he drifted off to sleep under that bush.

- - -

Harry wanted more than anything to be appreciated and loved in one way or another.

He seemed to have forgotten that in just two days, he would have his eleventh birthday.

And boy, was he in for the surprise of his life.