In what will one day be a long, long time ago, somewhere between the second year and the sixth, the Dursleys had set fire to Harry's hair.
"nnnNnOOOoooOOOoooOOOOOOO111" screamed Harry, to the world in general. Pulling out his diary, which he never mentioned having at any other point nor had big enough pockets to contain, he wrote this in an entry so he could angst about it later. "curze uuuuuuuuuuu dseuleyyyyyys!"
The Dursleys had been a general pain in the back for years. Especially that time when they had tried to kill and eat him. But this was going too far. Mulling over his previous sentence, Harry paused, then shouted the word "one".
But Harry had a feeling that soon things would all change. Soon he would be going to school, and would have some sort of adventure or other. And then things would change. He was sure of it.
To pass the time until then, he pretended to be a plane for a bit.
'Twas a dark and ominous setting. Crows and ravens, the ultimate sign of evil and suffering, floated around, proving that even birds were incredibly racist. Graves littered the place, including some who were probably Native Americans and thus would have had magical powers of some kind. Two men loomed over the graves with their backs bent, thus likely giving them back pains later in life; teaching us all a valuable lesson to hold to our hearts.
"MuawaHAHUHaehUAhAUhAHAH" evilly laughed the Dark Lord. "i haf this brilliant plan to vrame hAiry pOtting for vor teh murdur of someone in particular!"
"Wow, that's amazing sir said the secret agent of the Dark Lord" said the secret agent of the Dark Lord.
"And u, my secret agent of the dark Lordd, must be the vone to frame him, for he vill never suspect you because he wuld not suspect you!"
"that is quite amazing sir will you have my babies"
"maybe latter," said Voldemort, after some consideration.