Chapter 1: Hope Dies Last
Harry stared at the love of his life. It was his wedding day and Ginny Weasley looked absolutely beautiful in her wedding gown. The youngest Weasley's flaming red hair cascaded down her back as she strode down the aisle of the church, and made her way to the altar where Harry stood.
They looked into each other's eyes, and time seemed to come to a complete halt. Slowly, Harry caressed his soon-to-be wife's cheek and bent down to capture her lips in a kiss. He could hear Molly sobbing and the church bells chiming in the distant background.
The bells grew louder, and Harry winced at the sound, but no one else seemed to notice. Then the sound became sharper and less hollow - like knocks on wood. He looked around, noticing that his vision was fading in and out. 'What's going o-'
"Get UP!"
Harry's eyes flew open.
"Now!"
He was in his cupboard.
"I said GET UP!" Petunia screeched and gave one last hard slap on the door.
This could not be happening. Harry glanced at the ratty calendar on his cupboard wall. It was his eleventh birthday, and all that could not have been just a dream.
Moving on autopilot, Harry got up from his cot and trudged towards the kitchen in order to prepare breakfast for the Dursleys.
'That definitely wasn't a dream'
As the eleven-year-old entered the kitchen, a large wad of gray fabric was flung at his face. He peeled the soggy fabric from his glasses and glanced over in his aunt's direction. She was bent over a tub of murky gray water, and Harry realized that she had been dying the clothes which she threw at him.
"What's this?" he questioned.
"Your uniform." she replied curtly.
"Uniform? Why?" He didn't need this sorry excuse for a uniform. He was supposed to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and they had flowing black robes with the school's emblem embroidered on the front pocket, not these pathetic worn-out rags.
Petunia gave him a disdainful look, "For school. No more questions, boy. Go make breakfast."
"What school? I'm supposed to go to Hogwarts. They don't have these uniforms there!" Harry was confused, it wasn't possible for his experiences at Hogwarts to be a dream. They were just too realistic.
"What are you blabbering on about boy?" Vernon stomped into the kitchen, his heavy steps making the floor vibrate. Petunia just stared at Harry like he was crazy. "Get on with breakfast. I don't have time to put up with your tomfoolery."
Harry turned towards the stove, and with his soggy 'school uniform' sagging over his shoulder, he began to cook a batch of pancakes. There was no way he'd accept this. There was just no way…
Harry was in the garden, on the front lawn, half-heartedly plucking weeds. It had only been a couple hours since he woke up, and nobody seemed to remember that he was a wizard. Granted the Dursleys never liked talking about the m-word, but they still acknowledged that he was somehow different from 'normal people' like them. Now, however, they just acted like he was a burden that they needed to be put to better use. Nothing more, just an unwanted addition to the household.
He started yanking the weeds out more violently and flinging them into the pile next to him. It was true, right? He really was a wizard, the Dursleys just didn't want to accept the truth. It… was the truth… right?
There was a rustling in the bushes next to him, and when he peeked over, he saw a small garden snake slithering out from under it. Suddenly Harry was hit with a brilliant idea. He didn't need his family to admit that he was magical; he could prove this himself! The young boy got up and neared the snake. He would speak parseltongue.
"Hello little snake! You can understand me, right? My family won't acknowledge that I'm a wizard, but if I talk to you, then I can prove to myself that I really am a wizard!"
The snake hissed at him, but Harry couldn't understand it. How did he speak parseltongue in the first place? Maybe he should hiss back?
"Harry?" The boy jumped, and whipped around to see Mrs. Figg "What are you doing over there? Is that a snake?"
Harry did his best to hide the snake. After all, parseltongue was not viewed as a desirable trait, in wizard or muggle societies. "Uh- Nothing Mrs. Figg!" ...wait a second... "MRS. FIGG YOU'RE A SQUIB!"
"I'm a what?!" Mrs. Figg looked at him aghast, "Harry, I don't think it's nice to call your elders names! Goodness, what are they teaching you kids in schools these day-"
"Mrs. Figg! I'm a wizard right? Remember that time I fought off the dementors? And you were sent here by Dumbledore to watch over me, right? To protect me from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, right? Because I'm the boy-who-lived, right?! RIGH-"
"HARRY!" Petunia yelled at him from the front porch. He turned around and saw his aunt looking about ready to blow a gasket. Mrs. Figg, on the other hand, looked concerned for the boy's mental health. Petunia took a deep breath "Harry, didn't you say you wanted to help weed the garden? I don't believe weeding involves talking to others." His aunt's smile was very strained.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia…" Harry went back to plucking the weeds.
Petunia Walked over to Mrs. Figg, an apology on her lips, when the elderly woman asked, "Harry was saying some rather strange things, just now. Is… Is he alright?"
"What do you mean?" Petunia hedged.
"Well. I… I saw him attempting to converse with a snake, and then he called me a squib - lord knows what that even means - and then he mentioned something about dem-dementies? Deminties? Anyway, he said that he was the boy-who-lived and that I was meant to protect him from a pair of moldy shorts? Did he bump his head this morning? Petunia dear, he's acting awfully strange…"
Petunia swallowed down the lump in her throat, "Ah, yes well, he had a... terrible dream last night, and I think he um... hasn't gotten over it yet. You know, strange things affect him a lot more lately - ever since we told him about his parents' death, the tramp and her sorry excuse of a husband."
"That's a lie." Harry murmured, but apparently not quite enough to evade his aunt's ears. "My parents were killed-"
"WELL THEN! I think the heat is getting to Harry!" Petunia scurried over to her nephew, grabbed his shoulders, and steered him towards the house, "I apologize for Harry inconveniencing you, Mrs. Figg," Petunia hollered over her shoulder and shut the door behind her.
"What were you thinking?!" Petunia hissed, grabbing her nephew by the scruff of his neck and shaking him hard. "Were you thinking?!"
"You're the one who lied about my parents' death! They were heroes! They died protecting me, and you told me they died in a car crash! So, what were YOU thinking?!"
Petunia was livid. Her face was fire-engine red as she raised her hand and slapped Harry across the face. She shoved Harry into the cupboard under the stairs and locked the door.
"I will hear no more of this nonsense you freak! Your parents were good for nothing, and they died in a car crash!" she whispered venomously, "I don't know what has caused you to act more like a lunatic than usual, but you will stay in there until you can get your act together, or you won't have meals for a week!"
And with that, Harry was left to spend the rest of the day in his cramped and dank cupboard. He would most likely be without meals for today anyway, but that wasn't what bothered him. Why didn't anybody believe he was a wizard. Mrs. Figg was supposed to be on his side…
'Was it really a dream after all?'
The sun had long since gone down, and Harry had been in his cupboard fuming for the entire day. He had felt confused and betrayed, but he refused to believe that he had dreamt up the entire wizarding world.
Now, however, the boy was desperate. Harry was starting to question whether Hogwarts and everyone really had been a dream. Hell, as long as it wasn't a dream, he would even be fine dealing with Voldemort all over again! Harry had even tried praying to any deity that was willing to answer his calls but soon gave up after a couple failed attempts.
Why would they care about him anyway? If any divine being had cared about him, then he wouldn't have been stuck with the Dursleys in the first place.
Harry bit his nails and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing for something magical to happen - anything that could tie him to the world which he so longed to be a part of.
…nothing…
He glanced around the cupboard looking for an item that he could use to cast magic with. Maybe he put his wand underneath his pillow!
…nothing…
He shut his eyes again and focused really, really hard. He willed his magic to rise and heed his call.
...nothing…
'No. No! Nonononono!' This could not be happening. It could just not be happening!
"Think, Harry! What's a spell that you know? Something that is simple and easy to cast without a wand… Ah ha! That's right!" the boy cleared his throat, and stuck out his palm, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
It didn't work.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he tried again.
Still, nothing happened.
"Leviosa! Levi-OH-sa! WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"
There was no sign of anything floating.
Why? Why did life decide to play cruel tricks on him?
Tears were streaming down the boy's face, his glasses were fogged over, and he knew that his attempts at magic had failed miserably. He sobbed and sobbed. It wasn't fair! What had he done to deserve this? It just wasn't fair…
'It really was a dream...'
That night, Harry curled up into a ball and cried himself to sleep.
'Magic, my friends, Hogwarts... It had all been a dream...'
Petunia Dursley was never one for the physical aspect of romance. She hated the way her body looked - tall and lanky with no amount of curves or shape - and she resolved to never use her body for floozy practices, unlike Lily.
Perfect Lily, her sister had brains and beauty. She could have been so successful in life, but she fell in love with that broke photographer, Potter, and decided to go into modeling. Her sister had whored herself out in front of a camera all for the sake of 'art', and Petunia was absolutely disgusted by the girl's ignorance towards her own potential. Petunia never wanted to be like that, so she promised herself to never sleaze around.
There were only two exceptions, in her life, when the conservative woman chose to let loose. The first being when her and Vernon decided to have Dudley, and the second being right now.
Vernon had called on his way home, saying that he was in for a promotion. She was so proud of her Verney, for working hard and gaining success the normal way, that she decided a proper congratulations was in order. Currently, she was in the master bathroom dousing herself in the rosewater perfume Marge had gotten her last Christmas. Vernon was on their bed watching the telly, and she took the moment to collect herself.
"Okay, Petunia. You can do this. There is nothing wrong with a little private display of affection as long as it's in the confines of your own home. It's for Verney, you can do this."
Petunia adjusted her fluffy, lavender bathrobe, and in a moment of sheer resolve, she proceeded to open the bathroom door then lean sensually against the frame.
"Congratulations Verneykins~" she cooed.
The dumpty man looked over at his wife, eyes widening and face flushing fuchsia, as the remote fell from his hands.
"Pe-Pe-Petunia dearest!" Vernon spluttered as he took in the image of his wife posing sexually against the door frame, "I… uh um…" he gulped, "thought you didn-"
"Sh sh sh, Verney-pooh. Tonight, it is all about you~" God this was embarrassing. 'How did Lily do it?'
Petunia prowled her way over towards Vernon, and made to straddle his legs when-
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
'What in the world?' Petunia and Vernon shared a look.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
"Is that the brat? Why that good for nothing little- What is he doing?" Petunia didn't even have time to respond.
"Leviosa!"
"I think-"
"Levi-OH-sa!"
"I think he-"
"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"
"GOOD GOD VERNON! I THINK THE BOYS FINALLY CRACKED!"
They heard loud sobs coming from down stairs.
"That's it! I have had it with the boy's freakish tendencies! I'm not putting up with this blasphemy anymore! We're sending him to St. Brutus!" With that, Vernon stormed out of their room in order to call the correction facility.
Petunia sighed.
So much for a proper congratulations… Then again, maybe it was just as well.
Chapter 1 End