Chapter 1: This Changes Everything…

Harry woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in his bed, in the cupboard under the stairs. He was used to seeing the dank and miserable surroundings of his 'room', yet he could never quite shake the feeling that he hated the place, no matter how many times he was told by his aunt and uncle that he was lucky to have it. Heck, if what his his aunt and uncle told him about his parent's deaths was true; he was lucky to be alive, yet just by looking at how differently he was treated compared to his cousin, Dudley, he couldn't help but feel that he was missing something… something… more. Harry was about to follow this line of thought, when...

Crack, crack, crack! 'Get up! Up now! I need you in the kitchen to look after the bacon and eggs!' Aunt Petunia was knocking on the door, breaking Harry from his musings. 'I hope you remember why I'm getting you up this early!'

Harry dragged himself out of bed and started fumbling for the light switch. 'Yes, Aunt Petunia, I remember.' Harry flicked on the light and started rummaging through the clothes that he had lying around, trying to find something clean and wearable, as his washing was only done once a month, compared to once a week for the rest of the family. 'It's Dudley's eleventh birthday, today and I am cooking his breakfast.' Harry was always forced to recite his instructions, whenever Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon made him do something; or planned to have him do something, before actually going off to do it, just in case he "blew all of it to pieces".

'Good, it seems that brain of yours hasn't rotted away yet, I'm surprised… HURRY UP!' Screeched Aunt Petunia, making Harry jump and fall off his bed.

It took a few minutes searching but eventually, Harry found an old t-shirt, pair of jeans, socks, shoes and a belt that weren't too dirty, but all except the shoes were old hand-me-downs from Dudley. Quickly throwing on his clothes, trying hard not to think about the unfortunate circumstances that gave him the luxury of his own new shoes, Harry open his cupboard door and rushed into the kitchen, taking the spatula from his Aunt's hand and setting about cooking the bacon and eggs.

As Harry cooked Dudley's breakfast, Harry took this time to continue his musings, as the only times he really had to himself were when he was cooking or sleeping and both of those times were short. Harry pulled forward the thought of "more" from the back of his mind. He mulled it over and over, trying to find out what this more might be. It couldn't be a home or family, he had those already… But did he really? His Aunt and Uncle were never as nice to him as they were his Cousin, after all, the only reason they bought him new shoes is because they didn't want to pay for a doctor's visit and possible surgery for a broken ankle because Dudley's old shoes were too big for him. If his Aunt and Uncle truly loved him like they did his Cousin, wouldn't he get all new clothes and get them washed at the same time as everyone else? If they truly cared for his health, wouldn't they give him a proper bedroom like Dudley's, instead of a dank, musty, dingy cupboard under the stairs?

Harry was still pondering this question as he placed the bacon and eggs for Dudley, his Aunt and Uncle onto plates and carried them all over to the kitchen table. Harry then pulled a bowl out for himself and began to pour stale cereal, and milk into it, to constitute his breakfast. He sat down at the table and kept quiet and began eating his cereal, ignoring the Dursley's conversation, which was highly unusual for him, as he was expected to always pay attention to them, especially, on important days like Dudley's birthday. Harry had was just about to dismiss the idea that was being mistreated by his Aunt and Uncle, when Dudley threw a massive temper tantrum that brought Harry back into reality.

'Thirty-six‽ THIRTY-SIX‽ Last year I got thirty-seven!' He yelled, on the verge of crocodile-tears, as he knew his parents would do anything for him, if only he threatened to cry.

At that moment, as Harry expected, Aunt Petunia rushed forward, ushering reassurances, that he would get more presents, when they went to the zoo. 'It's okay, Diddykins, when we go to the zoo we'll buy you two new presents and then you will have one more than last year!'

As Dudley and his Parents argued about how many and what type of presents to get him, several strange thoughts popped suddenly into Harry's head.

'Diddykins, what a stupid nickname for a child as rude and ugly as Dudley Dursley. Why complain about the number of presents, when the ones he'll get will actually be good?'

It's true Dudley was very ugly. Like his father (Vernon Dursley), he was short and fat, with next to no neck, matted rodent-blonde hair and watery blue eyes; kind of like a shallow (dirty) pond. Unlike, Aunt Petunia, who was tall and slender, with an almost disproportionately long next, curly bottle-blonde hair and deep brown eyes.

As for presents, Dudley was bound to receive everything he asked for, including that new computer and TV, the remote control car, the racing bike he wouldn't use. Yet for Harry, it was always the same old rubbish. Dudley's old clothes and toys, that he'd either grown out of, got bored of, broken or a mixture of the three.

The more Harry thought about it, the more it became clear that there was so much missing from this young boy's, after all, he'd never once received a birthday cake, yet Dudley always got a big, delicious looking cake with Icing and strawberries and lollies and…

Harry was now shaking, with sadness and anger that he never thought it possible for any human, let alone he, could feel. Harry was so furious about only now realising that he was so poorly treated that it felt like the whole house was shaking with him. More and more, Harry's anger and sadness flooded his mind, as everything he thought he knew and felt about his life with the Dursleys began to turn upside down. Then as Harry's anger reached a tipping point, something strange happened, the expensive champagne flutes that Aunt Petunia had bought last year, on Harry's birthday; instead of the new pair of glasses he was promised, exploded. Those champagne flutes just shattered, sending glass everywhere in the kitchen.

That and Aunt Petunia's shrill, high-pitched scream of fright brought Harry's flaring emotions down to a simmer, allowing him to fully appreciate the strangeness of it all. Aunt Petunia, leaving Dudley with her husband, immediately rushed over to see how it had happened and when she could find no possible explanation, her eyes widened in fear, as she turned to face Harry.

'How did you do it‽' She shreeked. 'Tell me how you did it or I swear I'll-'

Harry, terrified of Aunt Petunia's sudden and kill crazy turn on Harr over something he had no control over, flung himself onto the floor. 'I'm sorry!' Harry wailed. 'I didn't do it I swear, I swear on my life that don't know how it happened!' Harry was on the verge of crying real tears, when the phone rang.

'I'll get the phone, you clean up this mess.' Hissed Aunt Petunia, as she stormed out of the kitchen to answer whoever had called.

As Harry scrambled to his feet, still shaking from a mix of fear and anger, he ran off to get the brush, shovel, and vacuum cleaner. As he opened the cleaning cupboard and reached for everything he needed, he could have sworn that they jumped into his hands, just before he could touch them properly, not that he'd say that to his Aunt and Uncle of course, they simply hated anything that seemed 'abnormal'. So Harry, laden with his tools, began to clean the kitchen, picking up all the broken glass and making sure it was wrapped properly, to be put in the bin.

While this was going on, Aunt Petunia was talking to Miss Figg, the 'crazy-cat-lady' of Privet Drive. Miss Figg had broken her leg, tripping over one of her cats and was unable to look after Harry for the day. Upon hearing this news, Aunt Petunia went into a frenzy, phoning as many people as possible trying to see who would take Harry off her hands for the day. It was no use though, no one was either willing or able to take him.

'Bad news Vernon.' She said, turning to her Husband. 'Miss Figg has broken her leg and I can't find a replacement.'

At this, Harry's heart soared, he might get to stay home alone and watch some TV; or he might actually get to go to the zoo. While Harry was cleaning and dreaming of the possibilities, Dudley was having an altogether different reaction, he was wailing and screaming, throwing things and slapping his hands on the table, it was quite obvious that he did not want Harry to go to the zoo.

'He'll ruin everything!' Cried Dudley. 'It's my special day and I don't want him coming!'

But there was nothing for it, no matter how much Dudley complained, screamed and carried on, the matter was decided. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, his Best Friend: Piers Polkiss and Harry were going to the zoo. Harry got to go the zoo!

A/N: So, I know what you're thinking: "Oh god, he's not even done chapter 4 on 'On Truth's Side of the Gate' and he's starting a new story", or "Oh god, he's going to rehash the first book, right from Privet Drive. We know what happens asshole, get to the point'.

1st, I'm a lazy writer, it's not that I don't write well, I just don't write often and I have a lot of ideas. 2nd, I will, I will. But I kinda have already. An overarching 'meta-theme' (if you want to call it that), is what each main character represents about myself, eg: Harry is my fear and social insecurity and in the coming chapters, he must overcome those flaws and become 'whole'. 3rd, I am taking back my idea from my old HiddenDrakness33 account, I AM NOT stealing it, just making it better. You get the point, don't expect frequent updates, but please do enjoy.