The Darkness And The Light Inside Us

Chapter 1: Prologue

BANG BANG BANG!

The tiny 'room' shook, dust fell from the 'ceiling'.
BANG BANG BANG!

The door to Harry's cupboard shook with each pounding.

Harry's eyes opened.

"Wake up boy!" Came the voice from outside, the voice of Harry's Uncle Vernon; a walrus of a man whose temper was only matched by his hatred of all things 'abnormal'.

"Yes Uncle," Harry replied, wearily with a wince.

"It's breakfast time and there's no breakfast waiting for me!" Vernon exclaimed incensed.

It was difficult to tell the time inside the cupboard, especially since Uncle Vernon had closed over and glued the vents in the door. The only light came in from under the door and was not enough to tell the time of the day. It was hard to tell even what day of the week it was when it was school holidays. Except when it was the weekend of course, on the weekends Harry didn't hear Uncle Vernon's car start up prior to his drive to work.

"Sorry Uncle," Harry apologised, pointlessly, "I was up late cleaning after you and Dudley watched the football last night."

"Excuses, excuses!" Vernon exclaimed and Harry sighed before heading out of the cupboard.

Harry was jerked to the side and collided with the hallway wall in a blinding flash of pain.

"You know better than to talk back to me boy!" Harry heard before everything went black.

Harry awoke again to a blinding pain and an exclamation of, "Muuuum! Harry tripped me up deliberately!" From a voice that could only belong to his pig of a cousin, Dudley Dursley.

How Harry could possibly have tripped Dudley deliberately would forever remain a mystery. How do you trip someone deliberately when you are unconscious?

Footsteps entered the hallway and the sickly sweet voice of Harry's horse faced Aunt Petunia carried over Harry's prone form, "Oh my poor widdle Dudders, are you okay ickle Dudleykins?"

"Yeah mum," Harry's cousin simpered, "why can't Harry be nice to me?"

"I don't know Duddly-wuddly, he's just a bad egg." Petunia pondered, " some people are just so ungrateful for the sacrifices you make for them, going through life without a care in the world except for themselves," she bent down to kiss Dudley on the forehead, "why don't you go into the living room and watch some more cartoons?"

"All right mum," Dudley answered and Harry's entire body shook as the elephant like stomps clomped towards the living room.

Petunia bent down to Harry and whispered harshly, "you'd better get up boy, and get breakfast started before your Uncle comes back with the Sunday Sun or there'll be hell to pay!"

"Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry intoned indifferently with a wince and limped to the kitchen.

Once there Harry began by setting the burner on the stove and placing a frying pan on top. Butter from the fridge went into the frying pan, followed by rashers of bacon. While the bacon was frying Harry set the table and started a pot of tea, some bread in the toaster and a tin of baked beans into a pot on another burner, set to low. It was a challenge, cooking breakfast for three people; especially when you were only five years old. Everything had to be done in a certain order, any step miss-timed could result in burned bacon or cold toast or heaven forbid, no tea ready for breakfast. Harry had made that mistake once and the lesson was learned: forget the tea and spend two weeks locked in the cupboard, nursing the bruises that still hadn't healed once the two weeks was up.

Harry knew it was wrong… but everything was wrong, so why should Harry's treatment at the hands of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon be any different, no matter how differently Dudley was treated. Dudley could do no wrong, Dudley was perfect in the eyes of his parents. Even to the teachers at 's Dudley could do no wrong, especially when it came to his treatment of Harry. Harry had made the mistake of trying at school, in the beginning. When Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had found out that Harry was doing better than Dudley at school, Harry had to stay home nursing a broken arm courtesy of a "fall on the playground." Harry didn't try very hard at school after that. Dudley's treatment of Harry had turned all the boys at St Gregory against Harry and so Harry was forced to play with the girls. In the eyes of the teachers at St Gregory's, this marked Harry as queer and a pansy. Harry didn't mind, honestly; the girls were much better playmates than Dudley's friends. Of course, even with the girls Harry didn't fit in; while all of the girls were getting Clarks magic step shoes, Harry was forced to continue wearing Dudley's old holey Plimsolls. Harry knew better than to even ask for new shoes, or new clothes for that matter. Even the girls made fun of Harry for the sello-tape repaired spectacles. Everything was just… wrong.

It didn't help that strange things always seemed to happen around Harry. One day Harry was being berated by the teacher for not concentrating (never mind that Harry was hungry and tired from cleaning the house that night) and the teacher's wig turned blue! How Harry could have done that was a mystery, but it didn't stop the teacher from blaming Harry. Another day, Harry was being chased by Dudley's 'gang' and between one fleeing footfall and the next; Harry was suddenly on top of the school roof! Strange things always seemed to happen around Harry. Everything was just… wrong.

Today, Harry had timed everything perfectly, with breakfast on the table the moment that the door opened to admit Uncle Vernon's paper carrying abundance.

"Breakfast better be ready boy!" Came the call from the hallway as the front door slammed shut.

"Yes Uncle Vernon," Harry winced and called back, "breakfast is ready!"

The walrus, the pig and the horse all shuffled into the dining room and sat down at the table to enjoy their breakfast. Harry stood by the table, patiently waiting for an order for "more tea, boy!" or "more toast, boy!" or "more beans Harry!"

This morning however; as sometimes happened, the orders came one after the other. Except, by some freak chance, on this occasion Dudley didn't call Harry by name.

"More tea, boy!" Ordered Aunt Petunia and Harry winced.

"More toast, boy!" Ordered Uncle Vernon and Harry winced.

"More beans, boy!" Ordered Dudley and Harry winced.

And Harry shook. And Harry exploded…

"I'M NOT A BOY, I'M A GIRL!"

And there was a flash of light that lit up the entire dining room. Nothing happened for a few moments, as if everyone and everything had frozen or time had decided to stop for a tick. Harry was so surprised that there wasn't even time to cringe when Uncle Vernon stood out of his chair and his meaty backhand went flying towards Harry's head.

Harry's unconscious body sailed six feet across the room to collide with the, up to that point, surgically clean pink wall with a thud. Harry's crumpled form bounced off the wall slightly to crash into the floor in a small mis-formed unmoving mass.