Bad Boy
Author: Arithonne
E-mail: arithonne@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Fifteen month old Harry Potter adjusts to life on Privet Drive.
Keywords: Harry, Dursleys, pre-Hogwarts, 1981, angst
Rating: PG
Spoilers: PoA

* * * * * * * * * *

He's in the dark place again. He doesn't like it here; it's cold and it smells funny, and when they open the door to let him out it's too bright and hurts his eyes. He doesn't scream of fuss when they put him in here anymore; that just makes them leave him there longer.

They only put him in here when he does something especially bad, otherwise they just swat his bottom. He doesn't like being spanked, either, but it's better than this. He tries not to be bad, he doesn't like being punished after all, it's just that he doesn't understand their rules. Things that used to be okay get him in trouble now. He doesn't understand why things changed, doesn't understand anything.

Like why Mummy and Daddy left him here.

Before, whenever they had to go away, Moony or Padfoot or Wormtail would come to stay with him. Usually Moony. But that was okay, because he liked Moony. Moony liked to read to him, and play with him, and cuddle him when he was tired.

Padfoot was fun too, but very tiring. Padfoot seemed to get bored easily, moving from one thing to another, sometime faster than Harry would have liked. And he was always tired after Padfoot watched him, never getting a chance to nap because then he might miss the next adventure.

Wormtail didn't spend much time alone with him, and Harry thought that might be because he seemed uncomfortable with him. Wormtail's discomfort gave Harry a funny- bad feeling in his tummy, so he didn't mind too much that Wormtail didn't stay with him a lot.

Harry'd tried asking the mean lady – Aunt Petunia – why Moony or Padfoot or Wormtail weren't taking care of him while Mummy and Daddy were gone, back on his first day here, but she hadn't understood what he was saying. Her face had gone all pinched and had told him to 'stop babbling nonsense and be quiet!'.

So Harry had gone back into the other room with the fat boy – Dudley – and had tried to play with him, but the fat boy had started crying and screaming when he'd noticed Harry touching his things, and the mean lady came running into the room, and when she'd seen the toy in Harry's hand she'd screamed and yelled, calling him a bad boy, and had swatted him on the bum.

Thinking maybe he'd taken the wrong thing, he'd watched carefully to see which ones the fat boy wasn't using, and had tried playing quietly by himself with those, but the fat boy started crying again, and that time the mean lady had swatted him again, harder, and put him in the dark place for the first time.

Harry screamed and cried, banging on the door, hoping that there'd been some mistake when he'd been left in here, but when the mean lady opened the door it had only been to spank him some more, harder this time, until his bum was stinging from pain, and then she'd shut him back up in here. He hadn't made the mistake of being loud after that, whimpering quietly any time they saw fit to lock him up.

When few days had passed, and Mummy and Daddy still hadn't come to get him, Harry decided to watch for them. He wasn't allowed to play with any of the toys and hadn't anything else to do. So, he climbed up on the sofa and pulled back the curtains so he could watch for them coming up the walk. It made him sad when he didn't immediately see them, but he vowed to continue to watch anyway.

But then the mean lady had come in and yelled at him for climbing on the furniture and dirtying her nice clean drapes, and once again he'd found himself in the dark place.

Eventually, after more days than he could count, Harry had gathered the courage to try asking the mean lady about his parents. Her face went all pinched again, and she said, quite tersely, 'they're dead'.

Now, that was all fine and dandy, only Harry didn't quite know what dead meant. Oh, he'd heard the word before – Mummy and Daddy would use it in unhappy conversations over the morning paper, usually in relation to other people – and while he gathered that it wasn't something good, that didn't mean that he really understood it.

But the look on the mean lady's face hadn't invited more questioning, so Harry had toddled back into the front room to hide himself in a corner.

As he sat there, trying to go unnoticed so that the fat boy wouldn't start to pick on him (ultimately resulting in a spank or possibly a trip to the dark place), he pondered his dilemma.

He didn't know what dead meant; he wanted to find out what it meant so that he would know what had happened to Mummy and Daddy, and when they might be coming to get him. He knew that answers could be found in books (he wasn't stupid, after all), but he would be put in the dark place for touching any of the books, even though the fat boy never used them.

He hated the dark place, but he wanted to know what had happened to Mummy and Daddy more, so, gathering his courage, he made a beeline for the unused books lying in a haphazard pile. Seizing the first one he came across, Harry began desperately searching for answers.

An ear splitting shriek rent the room and a chubby fist was pulling the book from his grasp. The mean lady cam racing into the room and immediately spotted Harry by the books. When she saw that the fat boy was in tears, her mouth settled into the now familiar thin, angry line.

She picked Harry up and delivered a number of hard, stinging swats to his bottom, yelling at him the whole time. "You ungrateful wretch!" She started carrying him toward the dark place and, desperate not to spend any more time in there, he tried to explain.

"Def? Def? Def? "

The mean lady paused mid-step, and for a second Harry thought he'd been spared. Then he saw the look on her face.

"You horrible little freak! How dare you threaten me! How dare you contaminate my precious angel's things! You're nothing but a miserable, disgusting creature, and you're going to stay in that cupboard until you learn how to behave properly!"

Harry was all but thrown into the dark place, landing on the floor with a loud thump. The door was slammed in his face before he could even think of escaping, and he heard the sound he knew meant that the door was being locked.

He wailed, beat his tiny fists on the door, and begged for his Mummy and Daddy to come and get him, but his cries were ignored. Eventually he stopped, having worn himself into a stupor.

Was this dead, then? He thought miserably while fat tears dripped down his face. Had he done something so bad that Mummy and Daddy had been forced to send him to this place to learn to be good? If he was good enough for long enough would Mummy and Daddy come to get him?

He would do it. He might not understand the new rules, but he would try to follow them so he could go back home, where he was loved.