Authors Note: Hello everyone! Some of you may have already heard of me or read something that I have started. If so, I am really going to complete this story one day. I know that I have abandoned 2 stories already but I didn't go through the right steps to actually making a story that could last. Now, I am planning ahead, and writing out my basic ideas ahead of time so I know what to look for and what to avoid.
This is my first shot at the Dark Lord Harry Trope and I actually haven't read any other fanfics on this trope as I wanted to write a completely new story that isn't like what is out there currently. I may steal some ideas from other authors but I will mention their characters or plot lines if I do! Please make sure to leave some reviews to let me know what you want to happen. Enjoy!
Harry woke up to his entire bedroom shaking and dust falling down from the ceiling. Well, not really a bedroom, instead, it was the cupboard under the stairs. As the specs of dust fall from underneath the stairs, and once again cover the small room, he started to get up for the day. Dudley waking him up this way was never pleasant, but at the same time, he was always thankful that Dudley came downstairs so loudly. It meant that Harry never was punished for still being asleep in the morning when he should be making breakfast.
Slipping out of his makeshift bed, and quietly closing the door to the cupboard behind him, he made his way into the kitchen to prepare the most important meal of the day. As he walked in another common occurrence was seen. Dudley being pampered by his mother and acting as if he was the most important thing on the planet. Almost as if the sun wouldn't rise anymore if he wasn't the center of attention and permanently happy. As he was starting up the stove and taking a pan out of the cabinet, he heard the grunts and vibrations that spread throughout the entire house as Vernon came down the stairs. Saying good morning to his wife and picking up the paper, he sat down and began to read. However, this was odd, by now he normally would have been yelled at for not having breakfast already completed or be screamed at to hurry up and get it going. Vernon noticing that the eggs were just being cracked turned and quickly ruined Harry's good luck.
"Boy! Hurry up in there!" came roaring out of Vernon.
"Yes Uncle Vernon" was the only response Harry gave. He knew that answering in any other way would only lead to him being punished and after years of observing the family, he had caught onto the patterns and learned how to keep himself safe.
Putting the eggs onto the pan and the bread into the toaster, he quickly took a piece for himself and flattened it to the best of his ability as quickly as he could. It wasn't often that he got to actually eat what he made and sneaking food was probably the only thing keeping him alive. Considering the portions that Aunt Petunia ate, and noticing how she was steadily losing weight just by being on her diet, Harry could tell that he was given under the amount he even needed to live.
Once the food finished cooking, Harry set it down at the table and instantly went back into his cupboard. It was his only safe spot and frankly, it wasn't even that safe. There was no way to lock it from the inside and it appeared that the only reason Vernon didn't want to enter, was because of his "freakishness." Not that it bothered Harry. If he hadn't had his safe place, he was sure that he would have gone insane.
As the day moved on, he was tasked with whatever chore needed to be done around the house. Some days that meant spending hours in the garden, either picking the weeds or vegetables that were planted there. Other days it meant cleaning out certain areas of the house. The only spot that he was never actually asked to clean was Dudley's room and the master bedroom. He could only imagine that his family would never want his freakishness to be anywhere near where they slept every night. But as the day grew old and night fell once again, Harry went back into his cupboard and fell asleep. He wouldn't know it at the time, but tomorrow was his birthday. He was turning 7 and for better or worse, everything would change.