Meanwhile, At Privet Drive

Harry rubbed his shoulder. It still ached from when he ran into the banister on his way down the stairs. God, he hated summer vacation. Potions class would be better than this. It had to be. He set the towel aside and began putting the dishes away. Vernon and Petunia would be back soon, and then he'd have to go back to his room and sit in silence. He was sick of being a freak to his aunt and uncle. He thought about writing a letter to Ron when he got upstairs.

A car door slammed outside as Harry put the last cup in the cupboard. He turned around and walked into the living room. Vernon was standing in the front hall shaking with anger. "Damn bloody neighbor! Why can't she just mind her own business! He must have put some sort of spell on her! Where is he?"

Petunia and Dudley were watching Harry with beady eyes.

"Come here, boy!"

Harry stepped forward and mentally braced himself for whatever Vernon had to say.

"What did you do to Mrs. Figg next door? She was asking about you!"

"I didn't do…"

"I'm sick of your lying, you stupid boy! Get over here!" Vernon reached out and grabbed Harry by his shirt collar. Although Harry had grown some over the first part of the vacation, he still didn't have the physical presence needed to fight Vernon off. "Get in there!"

Harry found himself shoved into his old closet. He sat quietly as the locks outside turned leaving him in the dark, smelly room. He wanted to scream at his uncle, to hit him, to… well, he didn't know what he'd do just yet, but he knew it would make him feel a little better. He wallowed in his misery until he could smell smoke.

Harry scrambled up from the moldy couch pillow and tried to see out the keyhole. What he saw terrified him. Vernon was burning something. And as Harry tried to see what it was, he noticed Hedwig's wooden cage setting next to the fireplace. "Stop! Bloody stop! Please!"

He watched as his uncle threw his books and parchment into the fire. He scraped at the door with his fingers, trying to get out and stop Vernon from going any further. He could hear Dudley's hearty laugh as the pudgy boy helped his father burn item after item. Harry shrieked when he saw Petunia carry a struggling bag past the closet. He began beating on the door. "No!"

Vernon watched his wife carry that dirty bird out the door and toss the bag into the bushes. He smiled indulgently at his son who was tossing more of Harry's books into the fire. "See what happens when you lie!"

Harry pounded weakly on the door as the fire burned down and the Dursleys went about their business. He wiped his eyes and found that his hands felt sticky. He looked down at his palms and noticed streaks of blood from deep scratches on his hands. They must have come from the wooden door. He stared at the blood and started shaking.

He bumped into a box sitting on the shelf next to his bruised shoulder and knocked it to the floor. It opened and spilled papers out across his pillow. He reached up and turned on the small light above his head and looked down at the mess on the floor. Vernon would get angry if he didn't clean it up.

Harry picked up a paper and noticed that it wasn't paper at all. It was a picture of three girls. He stared at his hungrily. He somehow knew that the girl in the middle was his mother. And Petunia hadn't changed much over the years… she still looked like a horse. But it was the third girl he couldn't place. He recognized her somehow, but he didn't know where he would have seen her.

He quickly grabbed the rest of the pictures and shoved them back into the box. He tucked the first picture into his pocket and settled down to wait Vernon out.