A/N: Things are starting to get a bit extreme folks. Physical abuse, and sexual abuse coming up! Will the Dursleys ever get their due? I dunno. Someone will have to find out first. And from what we know, nobody still really knows. BTW, this story WILL NOT include stuff from HBP. I'm sorry, but I didn't like that story. It just doesn't work in accordance to my Potter-verse.

Sorry all! I can't do three-year-old talk that well! Just think that the Dursleys have firmly insisted that Harry talk 'normally' though Dudley will be a lot less progressed.

Oh yeah, Present-Time comments will be getting less and less. It just works better for me that way. I think the one thing that has to be remembered is that they ARE seeing this, even if they aren't saying anything.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Chapter Eight: From Two to (Almost) Eleven, Part III
OR: The Birthday to Remember

The giant screen flickered several times. It would show minute long flashes of Harry being insulted or yelled at. It was bad enough for Lily and the Marauders to hear what their son or nephew (or godson) had to go through, but it was good to know that there had been no physical abuse.

Yet.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

July 31st. Harry's third birthday.
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As always, the first noise of Harry's day was his Aunt Petunia snapping at him to get up. Today, however, such comments were unnecessary. Harry was wide-awake. He remembered a month or so ago, Dudley had turned three. He had been thrown an enormous party that Harry had been excluded from, and he had got nineteen presents from his family alone.

Today was Harry's birthday. Today he would be getting some presents, and he would be having a party. Maybe not as large as Dudley's had been, but then again, everything Dudley got was larger and better than whatever Harry got, clothes, meals, number of friends…everything.

Harry quickly clambered off of his cot. Its frame wobbled dangerously as he lowered his body to the floor, and its thin, lumpy mattress nearly fell off the rusted springs. It wasn't hard for him to pick out his outfit, he only had four different sets of clothes, all of them much to large for his tiny body. Despite his now being three years of age, he could have been mistaken for an unhealthy two year-old, except for the fact that he had very little child-pudge on him. He was very skinny, and if he wasn't wearing a shirt, someone could have counted how many ribs he had.

He pulled some spiders off of his hand-me-down pants with a slight shudder. Having lived with them for almost two years, they were still kind of creepy.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Remus drew in a breath. They were making him sleep with spiders! As if being under the stairs wasn't bad enough! And couldn't they afford to feed the boy!

He turned his head, only to see Sirius, the playboy marauder who never cried, reach for some tissues to wipe away his tears. "I'll kill them," he muttered, "No one gets away with treating my godson like that."

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Harry entered the kitchen only to find his Aunt, Uncle, and cousin sitting at the table eating eggs and bacon. There were no presents in sight. Even though his Aunt had repeatedly told him not to ask questions, he couldn't help himself. "Uncle Vernon?" he asked.

Vernon turned and glared at him. He put down his newspaper with a loud smack, and growled, "What, freak?"

Harry shivered. His Uncle looked irritated, but not mad yet, maybe he was lucky today? "I-it's my birt-day today," he stated, then glanced around the room, "When it was Dud-ey's birt-day, all his pwesents were on the table. Where's mine?" All of this was said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, and then, an innocently questioning one.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

"Yeah!" James interjected loudly. "Where are his presents? It's my son's birthday! He should be getting the best! What did you muggles get him?" His eyes narrowed dangerously, and he tensed in his seat. Despite his growing fury, he couldn't help but be a little "girly" in his reaction to Harry's slight slurring of the "r"s. It was so cute, he made them sound like dropped "w"s.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Vernon, however, refused to listen to the tone of voice. Instead, his face turned red, and he inhaled sharply, as if to yell at Harry for daring to ask for a present.

Before he could speak, Petunia cut him off. "I have a present for you, boy." She said, in a sickly sweet voice. With that, she thrust a spatula into his hands, pulled a chair up by the stove, and put him on it. "You get to make your own breakfast. And since we're so nice, you can make your Uncle's and Duddy's as well. And don't you dare spoil it!" she snapped. "You're three now, you can start to earn your keep around here. It costs money to feed you, you know!"

Vernon smiled. Yes, the boy was three now. Three is a perfect age to start… disciplining. His smile widened as he thought of his new belt he had bought. The one with the large, sharp buckle. He patted his stomach. It was fate, of course, that decided he should wear it today, and who was he to deny fate? After all, the boy had better learn to do his jobs correctly the first time around. He watched as Harry climbed down from the chair, and pulled it over to one of the cabinets.

Harry reached up, and pulled out a bowl, and, getting down from the chair again, got a fork from the drawer. He remembered that when Aunt Petunia made eggs, she would take some eggs, and break them into a bowl. She would then mix them with a fork, add milk, salt, and pepper, then put them in a pan with some butter until they turned stiff. He gave a quick nod, and smiled to himself as he once again dragged the heavy chair along the floor to the fridge. He pulled out the egg carton, and put five eggs into the bowl. Two for Uncle, two for Dudley, and maybe one for him, if he was good. His hands trembled as he replaced the carton, but he took it slow, knowing that if he dropped the eggs, Aunt Petunia would get very, very mad.

He tapped the eggs against the side of the bowl until they broke, then dropped the yolk and white into the bowl. However, since Harry was only three, he then dropped the shells in as well. Vernon smirked. One… Harry then pulled the milk bottle out of the fridge, and poured it over the eggs until the bowl was almost full. Two… He smiled to himself, and gave a decisive nod. Now Aunt Petunia would mix them together. He slowly lifted the heavy bowl, and moved it over to the stove. Harry pulled a fork out of the drawer, and began to mix the eggs with the milk with slow, stirring motions. When the yolks broke, and the milk turned a pale yellow, he nodded again, and reached for the salt and pepper.

Harry paused, how much salt was he supposed to put in? He remembered that he had to change the amount for each egg, so he turned the salt shaker over, and shook it one, two, three, four, five…ten times, two for each egg! He repeated the shaking process with the pepper, and began to stir again. He then looked at the heavy pan that was on the stove. It still had leftover egg bits in it, but surely, because he was making MORE eggs, that wouldn't be a problem, would it? He didn't think so. He pulled out the butter stick from the fridge, and plopped the whole thing into the pan. Luckily for Harry, there had only been a quarter of the stick left from the Dursleys' toast, so he didn't put too TOO much in. With that, and another little nod, he turned the flame on.

Vernon now held his hand in front of his mouth, trying to keep his chuckles in. Oh, the freak would get a 'present' today, and more than one! One was the cooking, two was the beating that he couldn't wait to get to, and…hmmm…the boy turned three today, so there should be a third…Vernon's eyes widened as he got struck with an idea. It was illegal, but who would know? Petunia wouldn't care, and later on, Dudley could join him… An unholy glee filled Vernon's whole expression, and Harry would have trembled to see it if he hadn't been turned around.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

"What's he planning on doing? I don't like the look on his face!" James blurted out.

Lily shook her head. Vernon's face was so twisted at the moment, it was hard to tell what he was planning. All she knew was that it was bad.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Harry was now trying to cook the eggs. It was taking forever for them to solidify, and parts of the paler places were kind of clumping together and smelling weird. Aunt Petunia gave the boy a look of disgust. He had added way too much milk, and now some of it was curdling! How dare the freak waste their food that way!

After a few more minutes, Harry spooned the once-eggs onto a plate. He looked at them in dismay. Instead of Aunt Petunia's fluffy, yellow eggs, his were a very milky color with a bit of green, and rather slimy. They also had a nasty smell to them, as well as bits of shell sticking out of them at random points.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Peter, who had been sitting quietly, and in horror, shifted in his seat, and tried to lighten the tense atmosphere. "Well," he said, "At least you won't have to deal with his 'breakfast-in-bed's." He then gave a small, quivering smile, which quickly faded at the glares he received. He sadly shook his head, and sunk further into his seat. Why couldn't they understand that even if he had gone bad, he wasn't bad yet!

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

"Come here, boy," Vernon snarled. Harry looked up in shock.

"What?" he sneered, "You expected to be given a present, and not get punished when you ruined it? You've wasted our food, freak! You've made a complete and utter mess of the kitchen! AND you've almost used up our eggs and milk! Come – here – now!" Vernon's face had turned red, but he still had that disturbing gleam in his eye. "Take off your shirt, and turn around."

As Harry hurried to obey his uncle, Vernon removed his belt, and gave it a few testing flicks. The leather thong responded nicely, giving a loud crack every time Vernon snapped it.

Harry trembled as he heard the loud cracks. He hadn't meant to ruin the meal, he really hadn't! But Uncle Vernon would never believe that, would he? Another loud crack came, and the belt snapped right by his ear. Harry flinched.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

The school was silent. That man wouldn't……he couldn't…it was wrong…how could he…what was he doing? He shouldn't…couldn't…be going to do…that…could he?…would he?

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

"Count each one, boy!"

Harry nodded, then screamed as he felt a strip along his back burst into pain.

"I said COUNT boy! You'll get an extra one for each time you mess up!" Vernon glanced around the kitchen. Petunia had hurried Dudley out before the first hit, but now she was standing in the doorframe, grinning. He could see her getting turned on by the red welt along the brat's back. Vernon grinned. He loved it when it was clear that they shared the same … tastes.

Crack.
Harry screamed. "O-one, sir."

Crack.
He screamed again. It hurt so much! "T-t-two, s-sir."

Crack.
By only the fourth hit, Harry was screaming and crying. It felt like his back was being shredded, and he was sure he felt blood running down his back. "Th-three, si-i-ir," he gasped, the words nearly becoming lost in his sobs.

Crack.
"F-f-four, s-si-sir." Vernon's pants were becoming very tight as he watched the freak scream, cry, and as he watched the blood trickle down his back. Petunia's eyes were slightly glazed, she clearly enjoyed this as well.

Crack.
Another scream. "F-f-f-f-f-fi-five, s-ss-ssssssssss……." Harry couldn't finish 'sir', but it wasn't noticed by Vernon. After six hits, Vernon's arm was sore, and tired. He smirked, it would take time, and practice, to get it back into shape.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

If the screen hadn't been protected, it would have been shredded, burned, and completely put out of its existence due to the multitude of hexes that hit it. Even the first years were standing up and yelling jinxes, worthless ones, yes, but they needed something to destroy. Seeing the three-year-old get whipped, on his birthday, was too much to bear.

Then it got worse.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Vernon started to put his belt back on, then paused, his erection making things difficult.

"Are you hungry, freak?" he asked Harry.

Harry, still crying, nodded his head. He hadn't had anything to eat in the past two days.

"Well," Vernon said, "stop crying, and I'll feed you."

Harry looked up hopefully, and quickly choked down his sobs. It took a few minutes for him to control himself, and his back was still aching, but his hunger overtook his pain.

Vernon smiled nastily, and dropped his pants, revealing his erection.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Lily screamed. She dug her fingers into the sides of her head, covering her ears, and screamed for all she was worth.

While on the screen a disturbing scene took place, with Harry, clearly uncomfortable, giving his ecstatic uncle head, inside Hogwarts, a loud, low rumbling started.

Headmaster Dippet quickly turned his head in the direction of Lily Evans. She was the only one making noise now. She was standing, her hands almost clawing out her ears as she let out one continuous scream.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? Please. Every single wizard knew :

Hell hath no fury like a witch in mourning.

Witches who had lost their families, their husbands, their children, had ended up destroying their own homes in their grief.

Lily Evan's shock, anger, and pain was bringing down Hogwarts.

As Dippet started forwards, Lily's magical cry was cut off by the most unlikely person.

James Potter, well known enemy of Lily Evans, had his arms wrapped around her and was whispering in her ear. Above their heads, their only son was locked in his cupboard after Vernon had orgasmed.

Dippet shook his head sadly, and thanked Merlin that everyone was obliviated before they would leave the room.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O

A/N: This, folks, was why this story is rated 'M'.

I'm not going to be going straight to the first book, (the zoo incident), because this story isn't dealing with the books, it's dealing with HARRY. And the books never really say how Harry became who he is. I'm bringing that out. I honestly don't know how many chapters will be spent on his pre-Hogwarts life, but it won't be the whole story! I promise!

Thanks to all who reviewed!

More reviews please!