"Harry James Potter! You come down here this INSTANT!" screeched the voice of the Resident Queen Bitch, the one and only Loraine Potter. Harry ground his teeth in frustration.

What the hell did she want now? He'd finished repainting the doors, cleaning the windows, giving the dog a bath, scrubbing the bathroom, and too many more chores for him to

remember. Needless to say, his whole body was aching like hell. He stiffly rose from his chair and winced; this was going to be a long summer "vacation". Harry, only 8 years old, hated

it here. His oh so lovely family seemed to make it their life's mission to make his a living hell.

'Well, they're obviously succeeding,' thought Harry bitterly as he walked down into the living room where James, his so-called father, Loraine, and his bratty half-sister, Princess, sat.

Her name was actually Princess, no joke. Princess was sobbing big, huge, fake tears into her mother's arms.

How dare you treat your poor sister like this you selfish, undeserving freak!" yelled James, whose face was tomato-red with anger." First you refuse to giver her money, buy her

ice-cream or toys, clean her room, and give her your food when she is starving to death, but now you don't even buy her a birthday present! You dare to look me in the eyes after

abusing my Princess! Well? WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAYFOR YOURSELF!?!"

Harry narrowed his eyes at his five-year younger sibling. She was smirking at him gloatingly from behind Loraine's arms, who was telling Princess that her and James would take care of

'that nasty brat, Harry'.

"First of all, dearest father, you TOOK all of my money and gave it to her. Second, I wouldn't have had the chance to since I've been locked in this house ALL SUMMER. Third, why

do you care so much? When it was MY birthday, you took Princess to the mall for the day, and left me here with a list of chores. I didn't even get ONE present, and this year I can see

she got at least 40! Your parenting skills must be exceptional, because I'm really feeling the love here!" Harry spat bitterly.

Things had been like this as long as Harry could remember. Except for the dreams. When he didn't dream about making those fat-assed bastards pay, he dreamed about a fiery,

red-haired woman with brilliant, emerald green eyes just like his own. She was always singing him a song, one he couldn't quite place. He supposed that she must be his mother because

there was no way that Loraine was his mother. She was singing to him and the door was thrown open as a man with crimson red eyes, skeletal white skin, a flat nose, and a snake-like

face stepped into the room. This is where everything began to fade out. He could hear, "Not Harry, please! Take me instead!" There was a high, cold laugh then the dream became clear

again. The man pointed his wand at Harry and said, "Avada Kedavra!" There was a flash of green light and everything blacked out. He could hear a man screaming, "Harry! Harry! Oh,

God! Lily where are you?" he felt strong hands take him and the voice said, "Shh, Harry, it's okay we'll get you to James in time." He always woke up at that point.

"Boy! You're going in that cupboard and you're not coming out until school starts again!" Harry pulled himself mentally back down to earth as James grabbed the back of his shirt and

tossed him into the cupboard under the stairs.' One day, I will get my revenge.'