The Boy
The Dursleys did not like their new charge. If he had been a normal child, perhaps it wouldn't have been too bad – Petunia was by nature a motherly sort of person, and the idea of a sibling for her precious Dudley appealed to her greatly. Unfortunately, circumstances around her son's birth had resulted in his twin sister being still born, and Petunia herself unable to bear more children. So baby Harry at first seemed like a gift from heaven, and she was all set to love the child to pieces – until, that is, Harry used his freakish powers for the first time.
The powers that ruined everything.
Why? Why did it have to happen? Petunia felt heart broken – almost as if the child had been her own son, and those – freaks – had destroyed him, killed him! For what? They replaced Dudley's beloved sibling with some unwanted burden they had no choice but to care for.
Harry's reserved nature, his calm thoughtfulness and drive to excel, staying quiet and silent until he was sure he had everything perfect – gone. Harry's beautiful, emerald eyes, which reminded her so much of the sister she had before Hogwarts stole Lily away – gone. Harry's adorable smile and unassuming nature, his will to please – gone.
Gone, gone, gone, Petunia repeated, almost like a chant as she placed the tiny baby clothes, the special bowl they'd got Harry with his name in bright letters emblazoned across the rim, the few toys that were just too much Harry's for her to give to Dudley, placed them all in the small white cot. Gone, she repeated, with tears threatening to spill down her cheeks as she gently folded the baby blue blanket with the initials HJP stitched lovingly in the corner and tucked it in to the cot.
Gone, she repeated, sadness threatening to overwhelm her as she shut the cot in the attic, next to the box that held Petunia's memories of Lily. Gone, she repeated, the word falling heavily in her heart as she turned to look at the boy sitting quietly where Harry's cot used to be. For a second the tears blurred her vision and she thought she saw her Harry – but no, it wasn't to be. Harry was gone, and his death hurt her.
Gone, she repeated, the sound echoing like a gong around her head as she shut the boy in his cupboard, her grief finding outlet as hatred for the boy.
The boy was freakishly quiet, and always trying to show Dudley up. He learnt everything with unnatural ease just to make Dudley look stupid – he probably used magic to absorb knowledge, just like the cheat he was. His abnormal eyes, so much more beautiful than Dudley's, were just another reminder that he wasn't normal. Every time Petunia saw them she remembered her sister as she was at Hogwarts, the attention seeking freak whose life was perfect in every way. The sister who betrayed her by accepting the magic, as if the differences between them were a gift, not a curse that tore the family apart.
The boy tried to worm himself into their good graces by doing the work for them, tried to manipulate them with put on looks of confusion and hurt betrayal. He realised soon enough of course that none of them fell for it, that his acting skills weren't what he in his arrogance thought they were, and instead hid his feelings behind a blank mask. The sobbing Petunia sometimes heard from the boy's cupboard must also have been fake, because otherwise she would have pitied him, wanted to help him – and that couldn't happen. So the heart rending muffled sniffs were yet more proof of the boy's manipulation and freakishness.
And if in Petunia's dreams she saw her sister's reproachful gaze, saw a defenceless child holding pleading arms out to her, she hid her face in shame and hated the boy even more for destroying Dudley's brother, Dudley's wonderful, soft spoken brother who existed only in the memories stored in the attic.
And all the while no one noticed Harry slowly dieing in the cupboard under the stairs, retreating further and further until only the boy was left, the cruel, heartless boy who manipulated, who destroyed, who hated as he was hated.
No one cared.
- Fin -