Releasing the Tide - INTRODUCTION
AN: This is my first upload !! (Please be kind!!!)
Warnings: Possible Violence and slash in later chapters.
Disclaimer: ITS ALL JK ROWLING, I'm just borrowing her world for a time
It's a funny thing this life, the way it emulates the uncontrolled moods of tides, skies, the land and perhaps, most wilful of all, the dark.
Intro
One event, one tiny thought, one tiny lack of thought can change the course of ones life. Many people come to realise this, but even more remain oblivious. As a rather small dark haired boy shivered in his cupboard, he contemplated this anomaly. His stark green eyes stared into nothingness as a dark bruise formed on his cheek.
"What if I'd payed more attention to the bacon…?" Harry trailed off.
'No what ifs… this is life, this is all there is.'
The small boy wrapped his arms around his legs. A foreign though coming to him;
'What if there was more? Dudley has more, Piers has more.'
Harry snickered to himself, 'other than mass, what do they have that I don't? What about outside, away from this? It can't get much worse…'
Harry shook his head, he mustn't think; thinking led to ideas and ideas were dangerous in the Dursley household.
The outside was bustling, morning seeping through even the darkest parts of Privet Drive. Petunia Dursley woke up to a morning filled with birds chirping and the rising sounds of reluctant neighbourhood children. She scowled darkly and rolled out of the grasp of her meaty husband. The blob of flab grunted rather grotesquely into his pillow as Petunia snickered. 'A pig if ever there was one'.
Petunia slunk over to the bathroom and stumbled fully clothed into the shower. She sighed in relief as the water washed away her grogginess. She unclothed and went about her morning routine; drying, dressing and applying make up. Petunia stared into the mirror, eyes glued to the bruise forming on her cheek bone as she slowly applied foundation: asking herself if there was something better.
'Of course there is, I think I even had it once…" She let the thought hang. Thoughts like that led to ideas and ideas were dangerous in the Dursley household.
Dudley Dursley tossed in his bed, hearing it creak under his weight. He squinted his pig-like eyes in an effort to stay asleep, the effort barely need as he drifted back into slumber. Snoring and grunting through the morning.
Vernon was in his room and he was not a happy man, it was almost midday and nothing was going right. It all started with that Potter brat. He'd woken up to find his bacon burnt, and his newspaper torn in the corner. Little things; but added up they equalled a very bad day; A bad day for Vernon and a worse one for the brat.
Vernon grunted down the stairs and waddled his way into the kitchen, muttering to himself.
"PETUNIA!" he boomed, "Where the bloody hell is my lunch!?"
"Coming dearest" her sickly sweet voice echoed back. Vernon shuddered, too sickly, too sweet, too thin, too pointy, too nosey, too sharp. No, he liked his women with a bit of meat. He thought about divorcing her often, actually he'd almost forgotten why he married her. He always remembered though, money was hard to forget. But the dowry had run out long ago and Petunia was cut out of her family's will. Come to think of it, if Petunia was gone, the brat…
"Vernon, dear?" he lost his train of thought.
"Duddykin's birthday is tomorrow, did you organise the zoo trip?"
Vernon had started with a thought.
It was now and idea,
And ideas were never good for the Dursley household.