The first year at primary school affirmed much of what the Dursleys said about her. None of the other children wanted to be her friend or stay within close proximity. Dudley had told everyone in the schoolyard about how much of a freak she is at first chance. A stigma arose around her quickly and nobody wanted to transfer that onto themselves. The other girls would poke fun and laugh at her poor oversized clothes, which were truly awful in comparsion to theirs.

To make matters worse she was labeled the dumbest child of the class as she had basically no prior education before starting school. She could not spell or write out her name. Her classmates that did not totally ignore her would joke and laugh about that as well. Though with much attention by one of her teachers, she nearly caught up to the level of the other children by the winter break. For the most part people would pretend as if she did not even exist her at school, same as home.

Among the worst memories Holly could remember happened a few days before Christmas when she was six years old. Her aunt recently taught her how to use the vacuum cleaner as part of her growing list of chores. At first Holly did not use it as perfect as her aunt since the device stood taller than the girl, perhaps heavier as well. The loud noises it made frightened her and she had obvious trouble controlling it, thus bumping into walls and furniture. Eventually she improved to the point where Petunia no longer watched over her. Every other day she would clean the carpets in the living room, hallway and the staircase. Though she did not clean the carpets on the second level as she was not allowed to be up there for any reason.

Around noon, while busy vacuuming the living area for the second time, since the first wasn't good enough for her aunt. Dudley was able to easily sneak up behind her owing to the noise of the machine. Holly didn't know what happened at first when she felt herself nearly flying to the left from her cousin's harsh shove. Her feet suddenly trying to regain balance and stop her movement but it was no use. Her head slammed against the side of a wooden end table that stood in her path. But the worst came when an antique vase on the table's surface tottered and crashed onto the carpet, leaving it utterly shattered.

Holly screamed out as the pain on the side of her head caused her to collapse beside the table. Petunia then entered the room, her expression changing to horror upon seeing the broken vase near the feet of her neice. Dudley remained standing where he was with his hands behind his back, looking innocent. The vacuum lay on it's side, still on and emitting a terrible noise mixing with the little girl's high pitched shrieks. Petunia crossed the room to shut if off before rounding on her neice with a furious scowl.

"Why did you! You-you-shut up!" Petunia appeared lost for words in her fury.

"Noo-I didn't-" Holly tried to say what happened through her sobbing, but this kind of pain left her equally thoughtless.

"I saw her do it," Dudley pointed at her, speaking for the first time. "She broke it mum!"

Petunia stomped over and yanked the girl up by her oversized shirt collar. Holly braced herself, though her aunt wasn't the one to deal out physical punishment. She never struck her before but now seemed as good a time as any for her to start. Holly kept her tear streaked eyes shut, expecting her aunt's bony hands to behave like her uncle's fat ones, thankfully they didn't.

"You-you knew that is my favorite vase!" Petunia seethed, pulling her towards the cupboard by her collar and roughly pushing her inside. "Your uncle will deal with you when he gets home!"

"No please, please don't tell-" Holly's desperate pleas were cut short by the slam of the cupboard door followed by click of the lock.

Fear of what was to surely come later filled her. There is nothing she could do to prevent it, only to wait for the inevitable. Her head throbbed as a lump grew larger. Eventually her tears stopped allowing her to become silent in the dark cupboard. Though the sound of cartoons could somewhat be heard as Dudley sat in the living room, enjoying his lunch.

Vernon Dursley came through the front door a few minutes after five. He entered his home already in a foul mood. The past few weeks of work counting for nothing when the corporation chose another business to purchase a large quanity of drills from.

"The French! Those damned French drills!" he seethed through gritted teeth for about the tenth time since leaving his office.

His briefcase slamming down by the door, then agrily pulling off his overcoat to hang up. Petunia emerged from the kitchen, trying to force a cheery smile towards her beloved husband, but not quite doing it. They were both terrible at masking their anger when it lurked barely below the surface. In the one of Petunia's hands held a few pieces of the broken vase which she attempted to glue back, though it was pointless.

"Is that..." Vernon questioned after taking notice of the shards in her hand.

Petunia nodded stiffly, still not having said a word. Vernon took a few steps to look within the living room and confirm that the one vase his wife prized above all others wasn't there.

"What happened?" he asked, through confused at first, he was not surprised when she said.

"The girl," Petunia said, her lip curling a bit.

The Dursley's almost never used her name, 'the girl' being their preferred way to address her existence. Holly couldn't help but hear everything from the moment her uncle's car pulled into the drive. His heavy stomps now becoming louder and closer to the cupboard.

"What have you done!?" he yelled upon unlocking and swinging open the door.

The sudden brightness caused Holly to shut her eyes tight after being in near total darkness for the past few hours. She pressed her back against the wall as far as she could get from the door. Her hands covered her face, shielding her eyes from the light and her uncle's furious glare.

"I said...What have you done!" Vernon yelled louder this time.

His shouting reverberated louder in the confines of the cupboard. The six year old began trembling worse still, vibrating her whole body. She didn't answer him, she tried her best not to make any sound at all. She already knew that trying to talk her way out of trouble never worked out very well.

"COME HERE!" her uncle roared.

Holly moved her hands to cover her ears, her eyes still firmly shut. Hesitantly she shook her head. She was afraid, terrified even but sought to delay the punishment coming as long as she could. This only enraged her uncle further, causing him to lodge his massive girth in the doorway. One arm reaching in to violently snatch and pull her out. Holly pressed as far into the wall as she could before a baggy leg of the oversized pants she wore were seized. Easily she was pulled closer towards her uncle's other large hand to grab onto her arm, yanking her up to her feet.

"After all we do for you, this is how you act!?" Vernon reprimanded, his large hand at the back of her neck to lead her into the adjacent room.

Holly felt her breathing cut off from the pressure. She half-lead, half-dragged to the living room. There she was pushed face down across a corner chair. She knew the type of punishment coming, one of the worst. Vernon unclasped his belt, thick leather and several feet in length.

"Go up to your room Dudley!" Vernon shouted, seeing his son for the first time watching the television on the far side of the room.

"Dad, I wan-" he began to protest.

"GO! Now!" Vernon shouted him quiet, he seemed far angrier than usual.

Dudley got up and ran from the room much faster than one might think for a boy his size. He didn't bother to shut off the television before doing so. Vernon snapped his belt with a loud clap as he drew his attention back to the task at hand.

"I'll teach you not to destroy our things you wretched girl! You will get five!" he yelled down at her.

His arm reared back and in an arcing motion whipped the back of her legs. Holly screamed out in agony from the first blow. The second came soon after, striking higher across her backside.

This punishment had happened before, but this time is different. Her bottom half going nearly numb already. She couldn't let the belt hit her again, she wouldn't. When her uncle reared back for the third, she scooted off the chair and tried to run. Of course, she could not get very far. So she did the only thing she could, get somewhere where her uncle wasn't able to reach.

The crawled under the nearby couch, barely escaping his hands from already grabbing and pulling her back. Vernon let loose a howl of anger and frustration the likes of which she'd never heard. He went down to his knees, his arm reaching in but she squirmed further away. The man's foul mouth letting loose every awful word and threat he could conjure.

Petunia came back into the living room. She was content to ignore what was happening from the kitchen as the mourned the loss of her vase. But the noise is becoming too much.

"Vernon, the neighbors-" she had to raise her own voice so that he might hear.

"TO BLOODY FUCKIN' HELL WITH THE NEIGHBORS!" he roared back at her, his face redder than ever. "THEY DON'T HAVE TO COME HOME AND DEAL WITH THIS SHITE!"

He took hold of the couch and flipped it forward, crashing it into the coffee table. Holly's relative safety disappeared in an instant. Before she had a chance to move he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her back to the chair.

Petunia stood rooted in the spot near the kitchen door. She had never seen her husband like this. He pushed her back into position, keeping one hand on the back of her head so she could not escape. The third blow swung down with even greater force than the previous two. The fourth made the loudest sound yet, like a thunderclap inside the room. Holly became silent now, the tears still flowed down her cheeks but her mind and body seemed ready to shut off from shock.

"I said five before you tried to run away idiot girl!" Vernon yelled, not as loud as before since the last two blows let out a bit of steam. "Now you will get it until I say enough!"

His arm pulled far back for the fifth. A frighteningly loud crash filled the room then. The most devastingly loud bang yet, like an expolsion from a grenade going off. The belt still high in Vernon's hand went to cover his ears.

The television had somehow blown up with the force comparable to a cannon being fired. Dark smoke rose up from above it, rapidly filling the room. Tiny bits of glass and wire laced themselves into the furniture and wall that faced the electric box. Holly felt her mind go blank, losing consciousness slumped over the chair.

Vernon Dursley never lashed his fifth strike on his niece. Such was his state of shock at the condition of his living room. For a moment he thought the girl was the cause, but she did not touch the television. He held onto her the very moment it spontaneously exploded. His thoughts next went to the notion that he himself could have sat in front of it at that unfortunate moment. He then flew into a rage at the manufacturer, calling several times to yell what happened to them. But of course at this hour nobody was available to answer his calls.

Holly awoke early the next morning inside the cupboard. Her backside and legs swelling up painfully. By Christmas she could nearly walk smoothly again. The Dursleys returned to paying her as little attention as possible. Again this year Santa did not bring her any gifts.

Thus the years passed much the same to Holly Potter. She spent much of her time alone, other times wishing to be alone. Nearly a decade of living at Number 4 went by and world outside hardly changed. But such days were soon to be at an end.