"Freak!" Uncle Vernon roared dragging ten-year-old Harry Potter by his hair out of the kitchen. Harry cried out in pain grabbing his uncle's meaty wrist trying to relieve some of the agony on his scalp. His legs kicked and jerked, trying to get some footing. Vernon shoved him hard into a small cupboard under the stairs and Harry's already throbbing head made a sickening THUNK against the wall. He saw bright spots in his vision as the large man slammed the door shut making the wall rattle. Harry blinked for a few moments before coming back to his senses
"Please uncle!" Harry protested moving to his knees with his shaky hands pressed against the cupboard door. He didn't dare bang against the door. He didn't want to cause himself further punishment, but he needed them to understand he didn't mean it.
"I didn't do anything it just happened! Please uncle..." It wasn't the first time this had happened, after all Harry was a freak. No matter how badly the boy tried he could never be as normal as his aunt and uncle wanted him to be.
He had been in the kitchen scrubbing the floors to the level of cleanliness his Aunt Petunia demanded. Harry knew he wasn't going to be fed until he had finished the rather long list of chores his uncle had given him that morning. He hadn't finished the list he had received yesterday, or the day before, and he was very hungry. It felt like there was a big rock sitting uncomfortably heavy in his stomach. He stood up to inspect is work and, weak from hunger, stumbled against the counter knocking over his aunt's favorite flower vase. Harry jerked forward trying to catch it but it slipped through his finger and hit the floor with a loud CRASH, and Harry winced watching the porcelain shattered.
His aunt started shrieking immediately, making her way to the kitchen to inspect the source of the sound he had caused. Harry knew he would be punished for this. He was most likely going to be locked away in his cupboard where he couldn't do anymore damage and it was unlikely; he was going to get anything to eat today. Tears prickled behind his eyes and he wished desperately that he had superpowers. If he did, he could just go back in time before he knocked it over and save the vase or if he had super speed, he could fix the vase before his aunt made it to the kitchen. Harry sighed and wished even harder that the vase would just fix itself, he was already so hungry.
Aunt Petunia's shrieks became screams as she rounded the corner and saw the porcelain pieces building themselves back into an unmarked vase. The only remaining evidence that it had been broken at all was a puddle of water and the magenta petunias, that Vernon had gifted her last night, scattered over the floor.
"Vernon! Vernon! Come quickly!" She screeched over her shoulder. Harry was staring at the vase dumbfounded. This was significantly worse than the broken vase. His head snapped up as he heard Vernon making his way into the kitchen. Panicked, Harry made to run to his cupboard on his own but Aunt Petunia was faster. She snatched him by his ear twisting it painfully making Harry scrunch up his face in pain.
"Oh no you don't!" she snapped at him, "you're not going anywhere, you nasty little freak!" Harry was standing on his tippy toes to ease the pain in his ear. Vernon lumbered into the kitchen his footsteps heavy, he looked upset about being pulled away from whatever he had been doing in the sitting room.
"What has he done now dear?" He asked looking down disapprovingly at him. Petunia motioned down to the vase on the floor keeping a safe distance from it. Harry kept his eyes lowered and swallowed hard.
"He broke my favorite vase," she said before looking around to make sure no neighbors were eavesdropping and whispered, "Then he fixed it." she shuddered taking another step back from the vase as if it were some horrid creature that might start to snap at her. Vernon stared at the vase for moment his face growing red with anger. His eyes flicked to Harry, his expression was full of hatred and loathing. Harry winced inwardly under the harsh gaze. His heart was thumping hard in his chest, why couldn't he just be normal?
"Well boy?" he spat venomously, "What do you have to say for yourself?" Harry kept his eyes glued to the floor in a desperate attempt to keep his uncle from becoming any angrier.
"I didn't do anything..." He said quietly, "It just happened on its own... I swear it was just like mag-" Petunia hissed her eyes flying wide and Vernon slapped him hard in the face knocking him out of Petunia's grip and onto the floor. Harry closed his eyes mentally berating himself for his stupidity in almost saying the forbidden word. That's when Uncle Vernon had snatched him up by his hair and thrown him into the cupboard under the stairs.
Harry sighed miserably as he pressed his forehead against the door trying to ignore the rock in his stomach. As the adrenaline wore off his hunger pains returned. Why couldn't he just be normal? Why was he such a freak? Why? Why? Why? He blinked rapidly trying to stop the tears from falling. They wouldn't help. He could hear his aunt and uncle whispering he pressed his ear to the slot on his door trying to pick up their conversation.
"...almost 11..." He caught from his aunt, there was silence and then a huff from his uncle.
"We'll just have to try harder." He said and Harry moved back quickly from the door as he heard his uncle's footsteps. He wasn't eager to be caught eavesdropping. His uncle yanked the door open and Harry shrank back further into his cupboard. This was not normal. Once in the cupboard, Harry was normally ignored and forgotten. His uncle grabbed his baggy shirt and dragged Harry back out of cupboard. Harry struggled uncharacteristically for a moment (struggling always made it worse), before being savagely punched in the stomach.
"Enough!" His uncle roared angrily. He got a bruising grip on the small boy's arm and dragged him into the living room. Harry stumbled along mindlessly with him; his brain was busy. It was still focused on trying to breathe again after having the air knocked out of him. Dudley looked up from the TV and grinned at the pair. The large boy loved to see his cousin get yelled at and slapped around by his father. The only thing he enjoyed more, was pushing Harry around himself. The small boy had finally found his lungs again and had made a loud gasping noise as he sucked in air greedily.
Vernon shoved Harry on the floor. The raven-haired boy threw out his arms to catch himself and felt a sharp pain run up his right arm. He rolled over quickly looking up at his uncle and cradling his injured arm. Harry's mind was racing and his adrenaline pumping again. He wanted to flee from his uncle's hateful gaze, he wanted to hide in his cupboard until this storm passed.
"You ungrateful wretch!" Vernon yelled his face turning purple with anger. "We take you in, we feed you, we give you the clothes off our backs, and you dare disrespect us?" Harry sat up on his knees quickly, his whole-body trembling. He gave his uncle a pleading look and opened his mouth to speak, to apologize for being such an ungrateful freak, to tell him understood and appreciated the many sacrifices his relatives had given for him, and to promise he would try even harder to be the normal child they asked him to be. Uncle Vernon punched him hard in the face before he could get a word of it out.
Harry could taste his own blood as the soft flesh of his mouth tore against his teeth. His eyes fell to the floor and he closed his mouth. Vernon stripped off his belt and glared down at Harry. The young boy squeezed his eyes shut as fear gripped his heart. He had been hit with his uncles' belt before but the panic sensation when faced with it never lessened.
The first time he had been belted was when he was 6 years old. A teacher had sent him home with canned good for his family over the holidays after the school's food drive. The teacher had believed Harry's family was poor and in need of assistance based on Harrys appearance. The Dursley's took it as massive insult and Harry had been given 10 lashes with his uncle's belt.
Harry had been denied food for a whole week after that, (this was the punishment he received most often), and ended up getting really sick. His aunt and uncle had not been the least bit concerned. They had even made him feel guilty for ruining Dudley's Christmas. Harry was left alone to take care of himself the best he could. He got better as the holidays ended and when they returned to school, he was ordered to return the cans to the teacher with an apology for his lies and attention seeking behavior. After that, Harry had never let any teacher get the wrong impression about his home situation again. He even went out of his way to express that he was a problem child who was lucky to have such loving relatives to take him in.
Harry had endured several more beatings over the years, they were always his own fault. Harry was a freak after all and weird things happened to him. He never intended for these things to happen; they just did. This was never an acceptable explanation for his aunt and uncle though and after each one of these events Harry got a taste of his uncle's belt. Harry knew they were just trying to help him be normal and he wished he was better at it.
"Take off your shirt and turn around." Uncle Vernon commanded bringing Harry back to his current situation. "I'll straighten you out, you pathetic freak." A cold clammy feeling settled in his gut as Harry did as his uncle asked. The small boy turned around facing Dudley's horridly gleaming face, his eyes filled with tears of shame as he understood his punishment would be witnessed. His body tensed waiting for the first blow, his hands curled into fists in his lap as he screwed his eyes shut. There was a whoosh of the belt cutting through the air and a loud WACK as it made contact with Harry's skin. Pain erupted from the boys back and all other aches were quickly forgotten as his brain zeroed in on the new horrible sensation. Harry grit his teeth and small whimper escaped his lips as he was whipped again.
After five blows, Harry was leaning forward with his shaky arms helping him keep upright crying out with each hit. After ten strikes his arms gave out and fell further forward, his sweaty forehead pressed against the rough fabric of the rug beneath him crying freely. Uncle Vernon struck him repeatedly, with great force, and Harry quickly lost count of how many lashes he had taken. Uncle Vernon was yelling at him but he was only making out bits and pieces as sobs wracked his body.
"...you deserve to be punished freak...!"
"...never would have happened if you just behaved like a normal boy...!"
"...look what you make me do! ..."
Harry knew and fully accepted that this was his own fault.
Harry's legs gave out and he fell onto his side after a particular savage strike that hit his ribs with the buckle. Harry was weeping loudly but he could still make out Dudley's squeals of glee. His uncle began to lose control hitting him as hard as he could over and over in a rapid-fire display Harry wouldn't have believed possible of the large man. Harry curled up, his arms instinctively wrapping around his head to protect it. He wasn't sure if this had angered his uncle further or if his anger had just pushed him past any resemblance of control but his uncle foot kicked out and struck Harry viciously in his stomach knocking the wind from him again. The small boy blacked out before he could get his breath back.
Harry awoke in his cupboard up against the wall having clearly been tossed in when his uncle finished with him. He tried to sit up and let out a pained cry as his body's aches and pains rushed back to him. He covered his mouth quickly cutting off the sound and even more pain wracked his body from the sudden movement. He gritted his teeth; he didn't know what time it was and didn't want to risk his uncle's wrath if he was woken.
The small boy had never felt this much pain in his entire life. He wanted it to end, he wished his uncle had killed him. The large man had obviously wanted to. Strangely, the thought didn't make him sad or scared. Maybe if he had been successful Harry would have found peace. No, he decided, death was not something to be feared but to be welcomed. The beaten broken boy knew dying would be the only good thing he would ever do. Harry gingerly rolled over onto his stomach which had received slightly less injury. His entire body ached and throbbed with his heartbeat, his whole back felt hot and some spots felt wet. Each breath he took was painful, tears spilled down his face as exhaustion took over and he fell into an uncomfortable sleep plagued by nightmares.