Prologue----A Feeling
"BOY!" The angry shout vibrated through the tiny house as a young male shuddered in fear. He had just arrived 'home' for the first couple weeks of summer holiday when things had seemed a bit off, almost down-right scary.
A few days earlier his uncle had picked him up outside the King Cross train station, not bothering to wait inside or telling him of the pick-up changes. The large man's face had been a deep purple of rage when he had to venture into the station to find his way-ward nephew. But it was his eyes, holding a strange satisfying glimmer, rather than the anger, that tore shudders of uneasiness through the boy's frame. Beneath the older male's breath were mutterings, occasionally weird glances to the side as well, that the younger male could not decipher. And for some instinctive reason, the young man really didn't want to find out.
Upon his arrival to Privet Drive #4 he had been locked away in the second bedroom, with only his familiar, a snowy white owl named Hedwig. All his school items had been snatched away by his uncle, who then padlocked the school trunk and shoved it beneath the stairs. But he had been able to save a few essentials, hidden by the loose hand-me-down clothing during the lonely wait at the train station and were now hidden beneath a loose floorboard, under his sad of an excuse for a bed.
Sitting upon the tattered blankets and old thin mattress he began trying to remember a world far different from this one, one where he truly wished to be. A world where he was known as The Boy Who Lived, or just Famous Harry Potter. But now his shattered mind could only flash through his young life, eventually landing on the recent Tri-wizard Tournament, where he had been the cause of the death of Cedric Diggory and the re-birth of an evil man, who called himself Dark Lord Voldemort. And despite those past remembrances, his Uncle Vernon's screaming voice fully scared him, as well as the shrill tones of Aunt Petunia and piggish laughter of Dudley, all successfully returning him to the harsh reality of his unwanted life with the Dursleys.
Since the arrival the Dursley's had locked and barred him in the small room for almost two weeks, no food, water, or breaks. He had been left with thin blankets, a single bare mattress, a small tin bucket, and the clothes on his back. But beneath the floorboard he had shoved some food and water, saved beneath preservation spells cast at school, for him and Hedwig.
"BOY!" The thundering footsteps echoed as his uncle finally came to a stop. In front of his door.
Trembling fearfully, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter glanced out the open but barred window. From her locked cage, Hedwig hooted unhappily in concern for her master. But he could only force himself to stand, waiting for the doom he had known for days that would soon appear, though not why.
Several locks on the door began to fall open, allowing the door to fly open in haste. From the open doorway stood a very unhappy yet smug Vernon Dursley. "This is the last time we'll deal with you, freak!"
Stuttering in a barely audible voice, "I..I don't understand."
Harry suddenly felt trapped when his uncle stalked forward, every step he went back one. Vernon reached out with a large meaty fist, grabbing the vulnerable boy by his throat and dragged him away. "Your little freak of an owl almost ruined an important deal! Poor Petunia almost went into shock when that ruddy blasted creature ruined dinner! I warned you about this freaky stuff in MY house!"
Emerald green eyes widen in pure fear as his already thin body painfully slammed against the steps, his uncle refused to remove his tight grip. That grip tightened with each pathetic whimper, causing the world to darken within his vision as he struggled to remember that Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had probably sent a letter to explain the recent tragedy he suffered. But even then he could barely make out his own trunk, carelessly tossed aside, as his uncle viciously ripped open the door to his old bedroom, the cupboard under the stairs.
Seconds later his sore body flew inside, slamming into the wall and threatening to slip into a world of darkness. Please! Let this be it! For one second he truly believed he was safe and would only fall back into routine before he started at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
But clouded pain filled eyes caught his oversized cousin laughing, his aunt Petunia holding the boy back in a loving but tight grip while his uncle forced his large frame through the small door. An evil grin crossed the flushed piggish features. Harry could only pray he would survive, unable to defend himself or move, as the door fell shut.