"My secret power is love," I whispered to myself in the dark of my tiny bedroom on Privet Drive.
A small laugh bubbled up my throat, but I shook myself and forced it away again.
"It's not funny," I muttered to myself. "Not really. How can it be? My grand secret weapon to defeat the most powerful evil fuck living today is love."
I fought down another urge to dissolve into hysterical giggles. "Love. I don't even know what that is. No one's ever loved me," I went on telling myself. Or maybe I was talking to that shadow on the wall that moved with the leaves of the tree outside by the street light. Didn't know. Didn't care.
"How am I supposed to wield this great, grand mythical power when I can't even comprehend the definition on any real level?"
I couldn't stop the laugh this time, but I kept it as quiet as possible. Wouldn't do to wake my loving family. "No. That won't do at all," I giggled. "It's all your fault Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore… Stupid name… Stupid man. Force me to grow up hated. Loathed. Despised… Think I can understand love after that? Think I ever will?"
I was laughing harder now. Louder. I couldn't seem to stop. It really wasn't funny. But that's why I was laughing. It was hilarious how absolutely unfunny it really was.
And now I was really chortling. I could hear Vernon yelling, but I couldn't make out the words through my gales of laughter.
The door opened and heavy footsteps pounded across the room. Vernon was yelling right in my face now. That wasn't funny either.
So I laughed harder.
Pain. "Ow, that really… hurt," I wheezed through my laughter. He'd hit me, I realized. Damn. That really wasn't funny. Yet, still, I could not control myself. I was probably losing my mind, some detached part of myself noted. Yep. The Chosen One was going to go insane and be beaten to death for laughing. By his own oh-so-loving uncle.
No, I decided, it was funny. It was so fucking pathetic, it was hilarious. And the best part was that Albus Dumbledore was entirely to blame. When his precious fucking hero turned up dead before given permission to die for the cause, he'd have no one to blame but himself. And that was definitely funny.
I laughed until the darkness of the bedroom became the blackness of unconsciousness.