Chapter 2: Slave to Your Memories

A familiar sight greeted Harry, it was the interior of the Dursley household except it looked to be different from what he knew. Everything in the house looked bigger and taller than usual. Harry was about to pass everything off as his hallucination until a black screen popped up in front of him. The screen was translucent and illuminated a soft glow, with silver letterings on it.

-Door of Trials-

Objective: Reach the end of the reminiscing

Conditions: survive

Time Limit: - - -

"Door of trials?" Harry murmured and went to touch the black screen, but his hand went through it. Harry's eyes widened, not because they went through the screen, but at the sight of his small hand. Harry inspected the rest of his body and saw how similar it was to his 3-year-old body. He was wearing different clothes, similar to the ones he used to own, and had a smaller body to fit the clothing. He touched his face and felt the baby fats under his touch, and his glasses seemed to have vanished.

"Freak!" Harry jumped at the booming voice of his uncle. He looked up at the looming figure of Vernon. If his eyes weren't wide before, then it was definitely wide now as Harry gaped at the abnormality. It was Vernon, who looked the same as few years ago, except for the mosaic that covered his face. Despite the mosaic, which made Vernon's face indecipherable, Harry could still feel the simmering fury of his– not his? uncle.

Vernon– not Vernon– harshly tugged on Harry's arm, making Harry yelp in pain, as he got pulled into the kitchen. There, Harry saw an ominously standing Petunia, with the same mosaic face as Vernon. She didn't move nor give a glance in their direction, despite the heavy footsteps Vernon was making.

'Creepy..' Harry had thought at the sight. For once, Harry wished he could see the usual horse face of his aunt and the walrus face of his uncle. This situation was starting to creep him out, his instincts to run aren't helping in calming his nerves either.

"What is this freak doing out of its cupboard?!" Vernon growled. Imposter Petunia finally twitched and went to stand in front of Vernon and Harry, but she never emitted any sound until she looked at Harry.

"I don't know, just lock him up again," She finally spoke after the long silence. Harry could somehow recall this scene from his childhood. It was when he performed his first accidental magic and unlocked his cupboard lock due to sheer desperation. If he remembered correctly, he got locked up the whole week after that, with barely any food supply.

"Or… you could just punish him. That freak needs to be taught a lesson, who knows what freakiness my Dudleykins will get from being near this… 'thing.'" Harry was flabbergasted at the audacity of this woman, and at the deviation from the real memory he remembers.

'Didn't the black screen say reminiscing of memories? How come this is different?' Harry's pondering was cut off by a gruff laugh from his uncle. "Hah! You're right about that." Vernon cackled again. Harry did not want to know what was going on in Vernon's head. What Harry did know was that he needed to run, now.

Harry found the opportunity to slip from Vernon's grasp, however, a stubby hand grabbed onto his collar. Suddenly, Harry could only feel the thudding pain on his face, his ears were ringing and vision was swimming from the impact. The imposter Vernon had punched Harry with no remorse. Harry was too disoriented to realize he was getting tied to a dining chair by his uncle.

"Don't think you can escape that easily, boy." Vernon spat.

Harry was on the verge of passing out, but that was quickly replaced by panic and dread at the sight of the pot Petunia was holding. Even with the ringing sound and swimming vision, Harry could make out the sizzling sounds from the oil and see the smoke rising from the pot. He instantly knew what was about to happen.

"G-get that away from me!" Harry managed to draw out in his state of panic.

"Tsk, so the freak can speak and think!" Vernon exclaimed, already sitting on the sofa as he watched the scene unfold.

Harry growled at Vernon's impudence, then struggled to free himself from the restraints.

"Now, now boy. You're creating too much ruckus, we don't want to make this messy now do we?" Imposter Petunia said sweetly to Harry, as she now stood in front of him with the pan in hand. Harry caught his breath at the sickening sight of Petunia's face inches away from him. Her eyes were disturbingly bulged out of her eye sockets as if it was about to fall off any moment now. Her pupils were extremely constricted, to the point it only appeared to be a black dot. And her mouth was stretched beyond normal, completely showing off her complete set of teeth. Harry could make out the blood dripping from her ripped cheeks because of the inhumane grin Petunia supported.

Harry couldn't help but shiver at the cackle his aunt released as she backed away from him, Vernon's soon followed suit and cackled at Harry's reaction. Mosaic had already fallen off his face, replaced by the same inhumane face as Petunia.

'This is wrong. What's going on? This never happened!' They watched him in great amusement as he struggled further from his restraints.

"That's enough amusement for now. Better not bite your tongue now." Was what Harry last heard from Petunia as the sizzling oil was poured onto his head.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAGHH!"

Was it Harry who was screaming? He does not know. 'It's hot, it burns!' His throat was starting to hurt, and his eyes were drying out from tears. But Harry did not care, he only wished for the pain to end.

"Consider yourself lucky that we can't kill you just yet, boy." Harry unsteadily looked up to see who was speaking but the only thing he saw was the metal pan swung down to his head. With a burning whack, Harry fell into darkness, no longer in pain and suffering.

Harry woke up to the familiar sight of his cupboard. He placed his hand on his forehead and winced from the burning sensation. He inspected his face, gently this time to avoid aggravating his sensitive skin. All of his hair is intact and his skin didn't feel like it was scarred by the burn, though it was sensitive to even the lightest touch.

'Magic must've healed me…' He thought to himself. Out of nowhere, the black screen materializes.

[Congratulations on surviving! Prepare for the next memory, player]

"So I'm still inside the black door…" Harry couldn't help but laugh at his misery. "What kind of fucked up sorcery is this? Was it because I murdered someone? Is this some sort of jail cell or punishment for my crimes?" He asked, but no one answered. He wasn't expecting one to begin with, so he lay on the ratty mattress in silence. A few minutes later, Harry drifted back to sleep, exhausted from the stress he went through and the magical depletion.

*knock knock*

"..."

It's still dark, no one should be awake yet.

*knock knock*

The knocking persisted and woke Harry from his slumber.

"I suggest you not open your eyes."

An unfamiliar voice echoed in his head, different from the voice that brought him here. Harry chose to ignore the voice's warning, the last voice brought him here, and look where it got him. Under the ratty blanket, Harry peeked at the person knocking at his door with one eye. His breath hitched and abruptly closed his eye.

Through the door slits, Harry saw a 3-year-old Dudley staring at his prone form. He was smiling, but his smile did not reach his missing eyes. It was hollow, just like his mouth. Harry could hear the blood, coming out of the hollow eye socket, drip onto the floor from the sheer silence that enveloped the house. Harry was sure that their 3-year-old bodies shouldn't be able to reach the door slits, but the thing by the door did.

"Harry… open up, Harry.." The thing drawled out, disturbingly sounding like Dudley.

"I know you're awake…" It starts knocking again.

"Don't you want to play, Harry?"

Harry kept his hands on his mouth, to prevent himself from creating any noise.

'Go away, go away, go away, please just go away!'

Harry chanted in his head while trying to keep himself still. The knocking persisted for the next five minutes, which felt like an eternity to Harry, before he heard the thing leave. Harry kept his eyes shut and remained utterly still, he does not want to know or test if the thing was still there waiting for him to drop his guard.

Nothing happened for the rest of the night, but Harry did not go back to sleep.

It was 6 A.M. when Harry heard the locks on his door open. Harry immediately stood up from his mattress. He tried making out who had opened his door, but his vision was too blotchy for him to make up anything. His eyes weren't this bad yesterday, does it have something to do with the reminiscing of memories?

'If I remember correctly, I was four years old when I got my glasses, so that must mean I'm in my four year old body.' Harry concluded in his head.

"Hurry up brat, we don't have all day!" Vernon grumbled. Harry shortly went out of the cupboard, trying not to bump into anything on his way out. He can't see jack shit with these eyes! He was sure that they aren't this bad outside the door. The door was immediately slammed shut by Vernon, cutting off Harry's silent ranting about his bad eyesight.

"What are you standing around for?! Go do the damn dishes!" Vernon must have ran out of patience at Harry's unmoving form and smacked Harry on the head with his plump fist. Harry crouched in pain and tenderly rubbed on his abused head. Harry hears Vernon grumbling as he presumingly went to the living room– leaving Harry alone in the corridor.

"What in Merlin's name is his problem?" Harry mumbled irritatedly. He couldn't stop his childish impulse to put out his tongue in the direction his uncle went. He then stood up and went to the kitchen without any support– which he immediately berated himself for as he smacked onto the door frame.

"Oh Merlin, I'm so glad no one saw that." Harry covered his face in shame. 'Alright, let's do this again carefully.' He stood up and stayed close to the walls to navigate where he was going. Midway through his walk, he paused to rethink his decision of going to the kitchen.

'They won't try to fry me alive again right…?'

Harry strained his ears for any sound of sizzling in the kitchen and found none. He could only hear Petunia and Vernon on the other side of the room, seemingly talking about something Harry could not decipher. Harry continued his way to the sink after hearing nothing wrong.

'The quicker I finish the task, the sooner the memory ends.'

Harry tried to get himself familiar with the sink before starting with the dishes. He was slightly getting bothered by the lack of proper eyesight. Despite being half-blind at the moment, Harry was confident in his skills. He was certain he could cook, clean, do the dishes, do laundry, and do gardening even with his eyes closed in his normal body.

'Except, I'm not in my normal body… I'll just need to be careful.'

Harry slowly cleaned the dishes, not wanting to drop anything, lest he trigger a death trap. He did not account for a plate suddenly falling off the counter for no reason.

Crash!

The sound of breaking porcelain echoed in the kitchen, drawing the attention of the Dursley couple in the other room. Harry heard the clacking heels from Petunia, as she got closer to the broken porcelain plate.

"Boy! What on earth did you do!" Vernon shouted, greatly displeased by this occurrence.

"AAAAAA! YOU STUPID FREAK!" Petunia soon shrieks at the mess Harry made. "That was part of my expensive Chinese plate set!" Petunia continued to cry at her loss but Harry could care less as he shuffled away.

'Shit, that was not supposed to happen!' Harry last thought before he felt something sharp thrown at his head. Harry staggered in his movement and plucked the plate fragment on his head. Blood trickled down from the head wound. Harry brought his hand up to cover the wound, it didn't stop the bleeding but it brought him comfort.

Harry was startled by Petunia grabbing a fistful of his hair and dragging him close to the porcelain fragments. He was suddenly brought to his knees, Harry winced at the fragments that dug into his knees. The prickling pain made him want to scream in pain, but it was not enough to make him cry.

"Look at me you freak!" Harry tried to look into imposter Petunia's eyes but could not. Everything was a blotchy mess, and the blood was only making it worse. But Harry guessed that the mosaic on their faces had melted off, replaced by those inhumane faces from the other night.

The imposters had sensed Harry's weakness and cackled at his demise.

"Look, Vernon! The freak has become blind!" Petunia exclaimed to Vernon who stood by her side.

"Hah! There's no point in it having eyes if it can't even use them properly! Just take it out." Vernon barked out an ugly laugh.

Panic immediately crept into Harry's bones after what he heard. He learned from early on to take everything seriously, or else he is doomed. He should've been more careful, now his eyes are at stake! He doesn't know if his magic can regrow them back or even heal them if he ends up losing them now.

Harry heard Vernon's heavy footsteps shuffling somewhere in the kitchen. He didn't have to wait long to know where Vernon had gone to, as he heard the distinct sound of a knife pulled out from the knife sheath. Heavy footsteps neared him, and Harry found himself repositioned by Petunia. Petunia tightly gripped his hair and craned his head upward, fully exposing his face to Vernon who now stood before Harry.

Even with his blotchy eyesight, Harry could make out the glint from the knife, slowly closing in. With no escape available, Harry wished for his magic to do something. Harry feels something tug from within him, enveloping his body with the warmth that he is acquainted with after a year of doing magic.

Suddenly the knife that was millimeters away from his eye disintegrated. Vernon suddenly yowled in pain as his arms were deformed, then it exploded, shredded into thin paper strips. Nothing of the arm remained, not even the bones were spared from the explosion.

Vernon stepped back in shock and released a horrible screech. Petunia had immediately let go of Harry in favor of checking on Vernon. Their screaming made Harry snap out of his trance and wipe away the splattered blood on his face. He took the opportunity to run away and hide in his cupboard. Harry could hear the imposters screaming bloody murder, but Harry ignored them.

Harry went into his cupboard and slammed the door shut. He tried to recall every spell he knows about locking and reinforcements. He heard the heavy footsteps and clacking heels heading to his cupboard, completely throwing Harry further into panic.

"Colloportus." Nothing happened.

"Colloportus!" He tried again. The imposters were getting closer.

"Colloportus!" Harry felt the tug in his magic and heard his locks click shut. Exactly as the locks click, the imposters banged into his cupboard door and peeked through the door slits. Harry may be half-blind, but he can still imagine the unnerving faces that are peaking through his door.

He heard the keys being inserted into the lock, but it got repelled by magic. Harry sighed in relief at that but he dared not to drop his guard. The imposters got infuriated by this development and aggressively banged on the door. For each bang on the door, Harry feels the tug on his magic. It's been hours and reinforcing the door was slowly draining Harry, he wasn't confident in being able to sustain the door much longer.

'Magic, please don't give up on me yet.' Harry begged the gods above to hear his prayers.

As if hearing his plea, the imposters stopped banging on his door and went away. Greatly displeased and unsatisfied that they didn't get to mutilate Harry. Harry went to sit on the corner of his cupboard and plucked the porcelain fragments sticking out of his skin.

He was starting to get dizzy from blood loss, and his protesting empty stomach was not helping either. The last time he ate was back in Hogwarts Express, and the continuous act of wandless magic was straining him further. Harry reached for his ratty blanket and wrapped it around his body, it did not give the warmth that he needed but it was enough to give him a false sense of security.

A familiar black screen materializes in front of him. As the screen appeared, Harry felt the weight of his glasses on his face, making his vision clearer.

[Congratulations! Prepare for the next memory, player.]

"Player… is this what they call me in the door?" No one replied so he answered himself, "Yeah, most probably."

Harry wished he could go back to Hogwarts. At least there, he has Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Hedwig, and the others. In there, he won't starve, and he won't be deprived of his sleep. In there, he does not have to worry about surviving.

"It's alright Harry, few more memories to go.." He assured himself as he slowly drifted to sleep.