This isn't a home, nor has it EVER been a home...
Harry soaked his skinny hands in the Dursley's bathroom sink (seeing that they went out with family friends, leaving Harry home alone). His hands were only barely dirty with stains of dirt smudged against the palms. The real sight to see was his face. Vernon had given him a blackeye and he could've sworn that his nose was broken.
Beatings like this were normal everyday activities. If Harry did something to upset Dudley, he'd get wailed on. If Dudley made a lie about Harry that they believed (which was always), Vernon socked him a painful one. If Harry even LOOKED wrong, his face would be beat in.
His Aunt Petunia never did anything to stop her husband. She just watched, giggling at her battered nephew. The wounded face in the mirror began to shed tears...something he didn't dare do around everyone else. The only person that ever saw Harry cry was Harry.
But usually, beatings were the lesser of two evils. Sometimes, though not too often, Vernon would pin Harry to the floor and steal his innocence for a night. Those were the evenings whenever the nine year old Harry Potter hated his life the most. And tonight was one of those nights.
Whenever the Dursleys finally returned home, Petunia headed straight for bed after tucking Dudley in. Vernon stalked Harry in the bathroom. First, he smacked Harry hard on his left cheek. Then he turned Harry around and pushed him onto the cold floor.
Harry fought hard to break away from Vernon, but was just too strong. All he could hear after Vernon had shoved Harry's face into the floor was the disturbing sound of a zipper unzipping. With Vernon's large hand still shoved into Harry's back, all the boy could do was beg him not to do anything. Not to rape him.
But, these cries went unheard as Vernon removed Harry's lower wear...pushing himself into the boy. All Harry could do was cry, beg, and pray that one day somebody would take him far,far away from this place. The pain seemed to kill every bit of Harry's being. One of those moments that made him really consider suicide.
Pain.
Agony.
Fear.
Humiliation.
This house is not a home.