AN from SonofLuffy: Again, I didn't write this. J. R. Tancredo. Minor editing and proof-reading done by me.
Disclaimer: Anything recognizable is not owned by us.
Chapter One: The Boy in the Cellar
The cellar door opened, a shrill voice rang out "Harry! Wake up!" the she-demon's voice ordered. The young boy of 10 woke in a rush. He was an average boy, of average height, average weight, his dark brown hair, was of course, ever-so average. However, what set the young boy apart from his school mates was the lightning bolt-shaped scar over his eye, and, his eyes themselves. They had a glow, nearly a vibrant green color. As such, he was an outcast, for whenever someone was unfortunate enough to glimpse these ocular intensities, they became overcome by fear.
Harry scurried to get dressed as fast as possible, but he had no light in his little living space in the cellar. He tripped over something, fell face first to the floor, cracking his glasses, in yet another spot.
Before he could lift himself up, Harry heard almost a hiss, followed by "Ssssssorry, Ssssssonny" and felt his glasses pushed back into his hand. Scared out of his wits, he jumped to his feet and ran upstairs.
Dear ol' Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were sitting at the breakfast table, staring at him as he passed through the door. "It is about bloody time!" Vernon began, followed by Petunia "Get in the bloody kitchen and try not to burn breakfast!"
As Harry approached the skillet, his rage overwhelmed him. Who were they to treat him like this? These fat, filthy animals! And in the blink of an eye, fire covered the stovetop, hot enough to actually melt the cast iron pan!
"Stupid little tosspot!" His cousin Dudley cheered, having walked in, just in time. Vernon, seeing this damage, grabbed Harry by the collar, and pulled off his own belt, as Petunia ran to grab the fire extinguisher.
Harry rested on his side, sitting caused him pain still. How could they blame him? He had not even touched the stove! He was confused and afraid. This sort of event was not all that uncommon: something random happened, something he could not explain, and Uncle Vernon would belt him. And if that was not bad enough, he could swear he was hearing voices. Small snakes would find their way to him, and if he did not know better, he could swear they whispered to him.
Some time had passed. Harry pulled himself out of bed. He was shaking. Partly from the cold, partly from the anger, but mostly, he was afraid. 'What is happening to me?' he thought to himself, on the verge of tears. It was morning, and he thought to get an earlier start, hoping that he could avoid any unneeded problems.
He dressed, climbed the stairs, started breakfast and collected the post. 'A letter for me!?' He wished, jokingly. No one even knew who he was. He was just the boy in the cellar.
-end-of-chapter-
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