Chapter 2: Childhood (Part 1)
The next morning, Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive woke up, got out of bed, put on her usual dark-blue jeans and a blouse with flower motives. She went downstairs in order to set the empty milk bottles outside, so that they would be ready for the milkman to collect and that he could leave them the new ones at the door. After collecting the empty milk bottles from the kitchen counter, she was about to open the door, when she heard a faint cry coming from outside her door. Thinking that it was probably one of Mrs Figgs' cats which had walked over to their street, she opened the door, only to drop the bottles and give a cry that would make even the devil wince in fear of losing his hearing. The sound of glass shattering on the floor woke up her husband, as well as some of the neighbours. What she saw had completely shocked her, there was a blanket on her doormat with a bloody CHILD inside. It was the first of November and the night had been very cold, she thought to herself, remembering the weather forecast of the previous day and that the temperature must've been negative five degrees Celsius that night. The child must be sick, she thought to herself, after getting over the shock of finding a human being on her doormat. When he heard her cry, Mrs Dursley's husband, Vernon Dursley, put on a bathrobe and came hurtling down the stairs to find her looking at a blanket on the doormat with shards of glass piercing through it and laying all around the blanket. "Petunia, what's wrong, my dear and why is there a child in front of our house.", he added, realising that there was a baby inside the blankets. "Vernon, could you please get something to warm the child up while I will take him to the living room?" "Of course, Petunia. Would some warmed-up blankets do?" "Yes, honey.", the woman, Petunia, said, picking up the child and wanting to go inside, when a letter fell out of the blankets, which she picked up, before re-entering her house.
When she got into the living room, she thought about her son, Dudley, but then remembered that it would be best to let him sleep. She sat down on the couch and waited for her husband, a big man, who had hardly any neck and was very short-tempered. She nodded to him when he appeared in the doorframe, confirming that the child was alive, but had a very low body temperature. He handed her the warm blankets, with which she immediately covered the child. "Vernon, there was a letter in the blankets he was wrapped in previously. I also noticed a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead." She said, laying down the child in front of them and opening the letter for the both of them to read.
'Dear Mr and Mrs Dursley,
I am certain that this will come as a shock to you, but I am devastated to say, that both Lily Potter and her husband James Potter have died tonight.- '
They stopped reading to look at each other. "Vernon let's just read the whole letter and discuss those freaks afterwards.", Mrs Dursley said, waiting for her husband to nod before they continued reading.
'- They were driving around the city of London in their car, when the drunk driver and his whore of a wife, also drunk, crashed into a five-story building. Luckily for all the people inside the building, they weren't harmed in any way. Their son Harry Potter, survived through a miracle. I know this is a hard time for you, but I beg of you to please raise Harry, the boy on your doorstep, and give him a place to call his home until he turns seventeen and is of age. It is all I can ask for and if you will not do this, a mass murderer called Voldimoldi might just turn up at your front door. Harry will be attending elementary school and a local school called Stonewall High and DO NOT let him attend any other educational facility.
Yours sincerely, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore'
Whatever they had been expecting, it wasn't this. "Glad those freaks are dead. That whore of a sister of mine and her husband were getting on my nerves with their existence. But why in God's name do we have to raise their freakish abnormality of a son?" "I agree, Petunia, but whoever this bloke Dumbdoor, or whatever his name was, is, he is very daring to force us to raise such a freak. Do you know how expensive that piece of shit will be over sixteen damn years?", her husband responded, clearly not liking the idea of having such abnormality in his house.
"And what about our sweet Ickle Dudleykins? That weirdo will have a bad influence on him!", she exclaimed before her husband brought up an idea, that he had been working on since the revelation of this piece of information to them through the letter, which they had already thrown onto the table in front of them. "It's really simple. Let's just stomp it out of him by force. Let's keep these secrets to us and if he asks anything about his parents, we will tell him the truth about their deaths, not anything else. Sounds like a plan, doesn't it?" "Oh darling, I knew that you would be enough of a genius to come up with such great plans.", his wife then praised him, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips, before standing up, picking up the boy in the blankets, walking towards the hallway and opening the door to their broom cupboard. "I think we should dump him inside this cupboard for the time in which he will be living here. Just put an old carpet on the floor and let him grow up to do our chores, I'd say. What do you think about that, Vernon?" She asked, before picking up a rolled-up carpet from the wall and throwing it onto the floor before rolling the boy like a bowling ball onto the carpet, before locking the door and waiting for Mr Dursley to agree. "Oh yes, dear. That is a great idea.", he agreed, before they both heard a thud and they knew that the boy had collided with the wall.
"Let's wake up our little baby boy, shall we?", he then continued, before making his way towards the staircase that led upstairs, where the five bedrooms and a bathroom were.
The first room to the right, coming from the staircase, was a room where their guests, usually Vernon's elder sister, Marjorie Dursley, or Marge Dursley for short, slept when they visited. Opposite of it, the first room on the left was their bathroom with a shower, bath, and a toilet. Next to it, the second room on the left was the master bedroom, the room, where Vernon and Petunia slept. Across from that one, was the room where their son, Dudley Dursley, who was sixteen months old, had his bed. The third room on the left, the last on that side of the hallway was a spare room, where they kept their clothes and souvenirs as well as most of the presents they had gotten. The last room on that floor was on the right and next to Dudley's room. It was a spare bedroom, which they kept empty in case they ever needed the space it had.
With his wife just about three steps behind him, he opened the door to Dudley's room and the sight that met them was of four walls, painted in a beautiful Persian blue. On the wall opposite of the door was a large window, about three-by-three feet in size, from which you could look down into their garden. Before the left wall was a wardrobe with clothes for their child, as well as a large mirror, which was on the inside of the right door of the said wardrobe. The right wall just held the presents they had gotten him, put on or inside of a shelf, and on the floor, spread all over the room, were about seventy toys, which their son often played with.
"Good morning, Dudders. Slept well and dreamt about your future car and house?" Vernon greeted his son, while his wife walked up to him, took him out of his crib, and silently tickled him, so he would wake up quickly. "Ohhh! I see. Already awake Diddykins.", she whispered for Vernon and him to hear before the boy shook in her arms and opened his mouth. "Ma', da', food!" he demanded of them and they happily went back downstairs, Mrs Dursley with Dudley cuddled up in her arms, and into the dining room, striding towards the table, where Petunia pushed her son into a highchair, while Vernon sank down into a chair, both facing the door, which Dudley's mother had just left the room through. She went into the kitchen, opening a few drawers and doors, while getting some knives and plates, as well as three glasses, before walking back towards the dining room, setting the things on the table, and heading for the kitchen again, while her husband began to distribute the things. She came back with a large bottle of water and some toast, cheese, ham, and butter. They began preparing some toast for Dudley, cutting it into small pieces for Vernon to feed to his son. Petunia began eating her own two toasts, until after she had finished, starting to feed Dudley his third toast, while Vernon started eating his seven slices.
When they had finished, Petunia picked up Dudley and began to move upstairs to play with his toys inside his room. Vernon meanwhile opened the door of the broom cupboard, took the blankets off of the child, took a wet tissue, and tried to clean the weird scar on the freak's face. When it didn't work and the child stirred awake because of the feel of cold water on its face, he grabbed the freak by his messy black hair and pulled him up about a foot, and then dropped him. Hopefully enough to get the magic out of him. When Harry began to cry, he turned around, left the cupboard, and locked it again.
It wasn't until a few hours later, that they gave him some cold and hard bread so he wouldn't starve to death.
That night, Harry lay in his cupboard, asking himself, where his parents were, why he wasn't with them and why the last thing, he remembered about his parents was his mother being hit by some green beam before she dropped to the ground. He then remembered being pulled up by his hair and dropped onto the floor and starting to cry. Harry started dreaming about the smoke, his dad had produced the previous night and how he had been transfiguring it. He slept really well and, for whatever reason, the next morning the pain had left his body.
This treatment went on for months and months, he often got hit, kicked, locked inside the cupboard for more than just the night, or starved for asking questions or not doing as the Dursleys wanted.
On his second birthday, he wanted to know about his parents and where they were. The Dursleys had told him, that his whore of a mother, and to be honest, he had no idea of what the word whore meant, and her drunk idiot of a husband, had died in a car crash and that he should be happy to have survived. The moment he had asked about why he remembered his mother being hit with some green beam of light, they had starved him for four days and hit him the moment he got out of his cupboard after being locked inside for the same time. The first thing he did after getting out of the cupboard, was to ask, what the word 'whore' meant, to which he just got lashed at with a belt and after that he kept quiet. Life was very repetitive and he learned to not ask anything and to always do what the Dursleys wanted, whether it was cleaning the house, mowing the lawn, taking care of the garden, or just staying out of their way.
Because of this, he had been counting the days until he would be told to take care of more of their work, so the day of Dudley's fourth birthday, his aunt opened his cupboard, woke him up, and pulled him into the kitchen, where, on the radio, he heard the 6:30 am news. His aunt got him a high chair, put a few pans on the stove, and got some eggs and bacon from the fridge. "Cook! Don't burn anything. It's Dudley's birthday, so if anything isn't perfect, you'll be put in your cupboard without food for five days and get kicked.", she instructed him, before he decided to ask, "But I don't know how to cook. I have never done it before Aunt Petunia." "Turn on the stove, let it get warm while you put some oil in both pans and when it's warm, put the bacon and eggs in different pans. Turn the bacon and eggs around a few times. And now start!" Not daring to speak again in fear of the treatment he would get if he would, he started doing what she had told him to do. Waiting for the oil to heat up, after he put it into the two pans, he slowly opened the pack of bacon and the box of eggs, picking them up with his left hand, while getting some of the hot oil onto his right index finger to smear, where he wanted to drop the bacon, but instead he was surprised by the heat and dropped the bacon onto the stove, letting out a yell of pain, alarming his aunt that something might have burned. She came running into the kitchen but seeing that the freak had a burned index finger and had dropped the bacon on the stove, she picked up the belt, which they had hung on a nail in the hallway, for it to be in reach in case her nephew needed a beating. She lashed out and the belt hit his back hard. "Pick the bacon up and cook. Now. No more sound until you're finished. When you are, you will get everything on a plate for Dudley and bring it into the dining room." "B-b-b-but mm-my ff-f-fin-gger hu-urts.", he brought out, crying. "Just get some cold water on it but hurry up. Also, stop crying. It'll wake Vernon or Diddykins up." Giving a nod as a response, Harry got some cold water on his index finger, before wiping away his tears and starting to put the bacon inside the pan. He didn't know how, but just a minute after the belt had hit him, the pain had gone as fast as it had come. He didn't know how this had happened, but he was happy, nonetheless.
Roughly fifteen minutes later, he got the eggs and the bacon onto a plate and got some cutlery for them. Walking to the table, careful not to drop anything, he handed out the cutlery and placed the warm food in the centre of the circular table. Going back into the kitchen, he got three plates and handed Dudley, his aunt, and his uncle one each. Being used to either being starved for days on a time or, if he was lucky, getting the remnants of Dudley's food, he patiently sat down on his chair, waiting for everyone to have finished eating. Watching Dudley fill his plate with his sixth egg and twelfth piece of bacon, while Petunia ate one egg and three pieces of bacon and, shockingly, Vernon just ate four eggs and seven pieces of bacon. After they had finished, there was a quarter of an egg and one piece of bacon left, which Harry eagerly ate. It was not that cold and it tasted quite good, which he thought to himself, was because of his devotion for cooking the meal. After he had finished, Dudley pleaded, "Where presents? I want!"
They all got up and went to the living room, where a giant pile of presents had been put all over the room. "How many?", Dudley asked. "Twenty! Counted them myself this night. That is three more than last year, Ickle Dudleykins.", Mrs Dursley responded. "Good.", was the only response they got, before Dudley opened his first present, which had been placed on the large table. When he unwrapped it, he found a pile of money that he had gotten from his aunt Marge.
A little while later, Dudley finished unwrapping all of his presents. To name a few of them, he had received a hundred and fifty pounds in total, as well as some toys like a tank, a bicycle, and a toy guitar. "Thanks.", was all that Dudley had said after having finished unwrapping all of his presents. "A pleasure, darling", Mr Dursley waved it off. "Now freak, into the cupboard! Dudders, let's get you some ice cream, shall we?" "Chocolate, Strawberry." Not even wanting to protest and happy to be alone again and maybe get some more sleep, before doing the rest of the chores, Harry just complied and went into the cupboard. "Boy. We'll be back in an hour. All chores are to be finished and you'll evade all of us for the rest of the day." "Yes, Uncle Vernon. Enjoy your day, Dudley." He had totally no idea at all, as to why he was being friendly to his cousin, but he suspected it was because he didn't want to upset his relatives.
When he heard the sound of the door closing and a car slowly driving away from the house, Harry got up and left the cupboard. Because it was still early in the morning, he went into the garden and commenced to water the flowers, remove the weeds, and then he mowed the lawn. The work was exhausting and drops of sweat started to form on Harry's forehead. He started thinking about the dream he'd had last night and about the hooded figure killing his mom with a green beam of light. He had figured out that the Dursleys had been lying to him about the cause of his parents' deaths. Finally, he cut some of the bushes, so they stayed in normal shapes and so that their twigs wouldn't get out of control.
When he cleaned himself of the dirt, that he had collected on his hands, shoes, and clothes, while being in the garden, he went inside to clean some of the windows and to scrub the floor in the master bedroom, as well as his cousin's bedroom. It was a lot of hard work and when he looked at the clock that hung above the bed in the master bedroom, he could see, that his relatives were to return in about ten minutes from then. Hurrying up and cleaning the bathroom, which took him roughly five minutes to do. Feeling the relief of finishing all his chores in time, he hurried into his cupboard, closing the door behind him, and slowly drifting to sleep.
About two minutes later, he woke with a start, when he heard the rumbling of an approaching car engine. Waiting for the Dursleys to get inside, he remained quiet. The door opened and he heard his uncle's voice in the hallway. "Everything done freak?" "I did everything as I was asked to, Uncle Vernon," Harry said. "Good. Stay out of our way for today." Not having any interest to do otherwise, he happily complied and stayed out of their way for the remaining twelve hours of the day.
He slowly lowered his head onto the carpet and thought about how a beam of light could kill. He slowly drifted to sleep with the image of his dying mother in his head.
Harry suddenly woke up to hear his aunt rapping her fist on his door. "UP! FREAK! Make breakfast!" she yelled at him. Getting up quickly, Harry put on some clothes and remembered the day, three years ago, when he had burned his hand during his first experience with cooking. It was Dudley's seventh birthday and his friend, Piers Polkiss would be staying at their place for the day, probably keeping to their usual sport of hunting Harry and hitting him, like they did every day in elementary school. He hated them and he didn't have any friends, because Dudley's gang would bully anyone who came in close proximity of Harry. They would hunt them and hold their arms behind their back for Dudley to beat them up. One time where they had been hunting Harry, the said boy just vanished from sight and reappeared on the roof of the school kitchen. Another time, when Dudley wanted to frame Harry for the beating, he and his gang had given a student, the teacher that was taking Harry to the principal had her clothes turned purple and her hair dyed green. For those two things, Harry had been severely punished by the Dursleys.
After making breakfast and letting his relatives eat, he went to do the chores while his cousin unwrapped his presents. The moment he had finished and wanted to get back inside, he saw Dudley and Piers standing at the door.
"Hey, Big D, let's hunt the boy and get some punching practice with him again, shall we?", came the annoying voice of Piers over the lawn. "Yes, Piers." Dudley just said.
Harry instantly went onto the run, being much thinner than what was recommended for his age, he was faster than Dudley and Piers, both having the form of a baby whale. The weight as well, he added in his mind. Snorting at the thought, he picked up his pace, when he jumped over the fence that separated the lawn behind and the lawn in front of number four, Privet Drive. Making his way over as fast as he could towards Magnolia Road, to get to the playground located there, he didn't see the puddle of mud at the entrance of the playground. 'I can't get caught by them. They are too brutal' he pleaded in his mind. The moment his feet made contact with the small puddle of mud, he slipped and fell, face-first to the ground. "Now look what we have here. The freak was stupid enough to fall over his own feet.", Piers said in a mocking tone of voice. The sneer on his face was enough to scare Harry and shivers went down his spine as he thought about the pain that was to come. "Hold him in place, Piers" Dudley commanded and his friend did just as he had been told and went up to Harry, who had turned around as soon as he had been able to after he had fallen to the ground and pulled him up by his hair before he grabbed Harry's hands and held them behind the freak's back. When Dudley pulled his arm back in order to slam his fist into Harry's gut, Harry desperately wanted Dudley to not hit him. He was so desperate and focused on the fist never connecting with his stomach. He closed his eyes as Dudley's fist came steadily closer towards him. Yet, the expected impact didn't come for ten seconds, which made Harry look up, to see that Dudley had flown backwards and landed twelve feet away from him. "What did you do? Freak? How did you do that?" Piers asked, fear evident in his voice. He let go of Harry's arms and very cautiously went back to Dudley in order to check up on him and see, whether everything was alright with his friend. Harry meanwhile didn't have any clue as to what might've happened in front of him, but suddenly, he remembered something his mother had said to his father about Harry becoming a powerful wizard. He didn't know, where the thought had come from, but it did explain, why all these strange things were happening around him. His mother had been a witch. She was probably killed by some magic, which was resembled by the green beam of light that he remembered. His father casting those clouds of smoke, he had been a wizard. Harry himself, knocking Dudley back twelve feet, appearing on the school kitchen's roof, changing the colour of his teacher's hair and clothes, as well as the one time he had dreamed about the smoke and how he transformed it, was a wizard. He'd had the dream on his fifth birthday. He was excited. All this was magic. That was what the Dursleys thought to be freaky about him. They had known about his magic all this time. He desperately wanted to practice this gift whenever he would be having the time for it until he could master it. And master it, he would. He'd never been so determined about anything in his life before. He quickly went back home though, thinking about the reaction of his relatives on how he treated Dudley, he'd be starved for about seven days, he thought. Yet, when he came to think of it, he had things inside his cupboard, which he could use in order to explore his magic.
