Dust was the first thing I could smell when I woke up that morning; actually, dust was just about the first thing I smelled every morning. The cupboard under the stairs was full of it, and in truth, it seemed to be the only place my Aunt Petunia didn't seem to care was actually clean or not.
"Up! Get up! Now!"
Aunt Petunia's voice was also typically the first shrill noise to force me out of the little sleep I had left. She usually wanted me to watch breakfast while she spied on the neighbours through the kitchen window.
I had lived with the Dursleys for 16 years, ever since I was a baby and my parents died. However, from the state of the house, you'd never even know I'd lived there at all as the only signs of my existence were hidden here, invisible and locked away in the cupboard under the stairs.
Aunt Petunia wrapped on the cupboard door a second time.
"Are you up yet?!" Aunt Petunia often reminded me of a loon, her voice invoking dread and horror.
"Nearly," I muttered back.
"Well, hurry up. You need to watch the bacon. Don't let it burn, either. I want everything perfect on Dudley's special day."
I had to stifle a groan.
Every year, my cousin Dudley's birthday was treated almost as if it were its own memorable holiday. Every year, his parents took him and a friend to theme parks, restaurants and even the cinema on occasion. When I was a kid, they'd leave me with a neighbour, but as I got older, I was always expected to attend. It was almost as if they were trying to rub it in that they had never, and were unwilling to, do that for me. The first time they brought me along, Dudley cried like a toddler.
I dressed quickly, heading down the hall and into the kitchen. The table, completely hidden under a mound of Dudley's birthday presents, looked almost like it was going to collapse under the weight; it seemed like Dudley had gotten the new computer he had wanted. The racing bike, too, seemed useless as we all knew he would never use it; Dudley never exercised unless it involved punching someone, usually me.
I had moved on to frying eggs by the time Aunt Petunia decided it was time to get Dudley up for his 'birthday breakfast,' which she called it despite the fact that it was the same breakfast we had nearly every morning. I carefully put the plates of bacon and eggs on the table, trying not to knock anything off, as Aunt Petunia brought Dudley into the room.
His face fell.
"That's two less than last year." Dudley began to go red in the face. Despite turning 17 today, Dudley Dursley has mastered throwing tantrums to get his way from his parents. However, instead of childish wails, those at the receiving end were often met with anger and things being thrown.
Aunt Petunia also clearly sensed danger approaching. "Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present; see, it's under this big one." I started eating my bacon as quickly as possible when this clearly didn't quell the anger on Dudley's face. He was liable to flip the table after all. "And we'll get two more presents while we're out today. How's that?"
The storm subsided.
The main activities on Dudley's birthdays were often childish and frivolous things that no typical teenager would enjoy. It's almost as if the point of the entire occasion was to make me more miserable than I already was. Today's frivolous activity was the zoo. I got the same lecture from Uncle Vernon every year when we arrived: "I'm warning you now, boy, any funny business, anything at all, and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."
I never entirely understood why.
Piers Polkiss was Dudley's best friend; together, they looked like Ren and Stimpy. He was usually the one who held people's arms when Dudley punched them, and he had been since we were in primary school. I had learned quickly as a kid to walk far behind them so that they didn't fall back on their favourite activity, hitting me. Once, on a trip to the zoo, the Dursleys bought me an ice pop, which was nice, I guess.
It happened in the reptile house.
Dudley and Piers were off trying to scare a frilled lizard into showing its frills. I, in the meantime, had occupied myself with a massive snake in the corner. I read the sign.
"Boa Constrictor, Brazil." I absentmindedly read aloud. "Was it nice there?"
The snake's head darted up at me; it then jabbed its tail at the sign, and I read on: this specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see; you've never been to Brazil."
The snake nodded. I suddenly realised what was happening, and my mouth dropped open. "Can you understand me?"
"DUDLEY! LOOK AT WHAT THAT SNAKE IS DOING!" Dudley was soon shoving me to the ground, punching me in the ribs as he did.
I didn't see it happen. I don't even really remember what I was thinking when it did, but all of a sudden, I heard screaming as I was turning to get up. I turned around and realised the glass in front of the boa constrictor tank had vanished. The snake was now rapidly escaping. A low voice hissed, "Thanks, amigo," and it was gone.
We left the zoo almost immediately. Dudley's birthday celebration was officially over. Uncle Vernon dropped Piers off at home before heading back to Privet Drive. He was angry; I didn't know why; it wasn't as if I had done anything.
Before I was even out of the car, Uncle Vernon had me by the back of the shirt, dragging me to the cupboard under the stairs, tossing me in and hitching the latch in its place.
It was the summer holiday before they allowed me out of the cupboard for anything aside from school and using the bathroom. Actually, it was nearly my birthday by the time they did.
School was the only place I was able to escape the Dursleys. Dudley went to Uncle Vernon's old Private School while I attended Stonewall High, the local comprehensive. I didn't exactly have friends, but there were at least people who tolerated me at lunch.
"Get the post, Dudley."
I had just walked into the kitchen for the first time that morning.
"Make Harry get it."
I hadn't even gotten to sit down yet.
"Get the post, Harry."
I rolled my eyes.
"Make Dudley get it."
I sat down.
"Hit him with your Smeltings stick, Dudley."
Fortunately, I dodged it in time and made my way to the front doormat, where the post already lay.
Three things lay there.
A postcard - From Uncle Vernon's sister, who was on Vacation.
A Brown Envelope - likely a bill.
An important-looking grey envelope with a big letter M monogrammed on the front - Addressed to me.
I stared at it for a moment; no one had ever written to me before, but there it was.
Mr H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
Little Whinging
Surrey
I turned the envelope over in my hands; it felt thick and elegant—nothing like the mail that usually comes in.
"Hurry up, boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted from the kitchen. "What are you doing? Are you checking for letter bombs?"
I knew Uncle Vernon would take the letter from me the second he knew I had it, so I ripped it open right then and there.
Ministry of Magic
Department of Magical Education
London, United Kingdom
Wednesday, July 24, 1991
Dear Mr Potter,
Subject: Upcoming Wizarding Placement Examination – Action Required
We are pleased to inform you that as you approach your 17th birthday, it is time for you to participate in the Wizarding Placement Examination, a rite of passage for every young witch and wizard. This examination will determine which of the 11 prestigious magical schools you are best suited for, guiding you towards a future that befits your unique magical talents and inclinations.
Examination Date: Wednesday, July 31, 1991
Time: 9:00 AM sharp
Venue: Ministry of Magic, Examination Hall 3B
Please arrive at the Ministry's visitor entrance on Whitehall Wizarding Annex, London, WC2A 2AE, where you will be greeted by our staff and guided to the examination hall. A basic wand will be provided for the examination, as it is essential for the practical components.
Enclosed with this letter is a Magical Examination Permit. Keep it safe, as you will need to present it upon your arrival. Additionally, ensure you have read through the Examination Guidelines Booklet sent to you earlier this month.
We wish you the best of luck and look forward to welcoming you into the next stage of your magical education.
Warm regards,
Artisma Lurfkin
Head of Wizarding Examinations
Ministry of Magic
I was sure it was a prank. I simply put it back in the envelope, walked into the kitchen, and handed it to Uncle Vernon along with the rest of the post, sitting down at the table and looking at my breakfast.
"P-Petunia-" Uncle Vernon gasped as I cut into one of my eggs. My head shot up. He was staring at the opened letter that had been addressed to me.
"Oh my goodness." Aunt Petunia's eyes widened as she looked over his shoulder.
They stared at each other, and I watched them curiously. "It's just junk mail… isn't it?"
Uncle Vernon clearly saw this as a prime opportunity. "Yes, precisely, junk mail. It was addressed to you by mistake; there's been no 'examination guidelines booklet' sent to us. Barking Mad. Besides, We have an important trip to take on that day anyway; we'll be nowhere near London."
"What-"
"Don't ask questions." Aunt Petunia snapped, and the subject was dropped.
The days that followed were among the strangest of my life. It was almost as if the Dursleys were trying to be kind. It started with Uncle Vernon visiting me in my cupboard, telling me that he thought that I had now outgrown it and would be moving into Dudley's second bedroom.
It only took me one trip to carry my things up to the room amidst Dudley's tantrum. I found myself grateful that the door had a lock so that he couldn't come in the middle of the night and smother me in my sleep.
The morning of my birthday, I came down the stairs and almost walked straight past it. Another thick, elegant grey envelope with the monogrammed M on the front.
My curiosity got the best of me, and I opened it.
Ministry of Magic
Department of Magical Education
London, United Kingdom
Wednesday, July 31, 1991
Dear Mr Potter,
Subject: Reminder – Wizarding Placement Examination Today
This is a friendly reminder that today, on your 17th birthday, you are scheduled to take the esteemed Wizarding Placement Examination. This pivotal assessment will unveil which three of the eleven renowned magical schools align with your magical prowess and potential.
Examination Time: Today at 9:00 AM
Venue: Ministry of Magic, Examination Hall 3B
Please make your way to the Ministry's visitor entrance on Whitehall Wizarding Annex, London, WC2A 2AE. Our staff will be there to welcome you and direct you to the examination hall. A training wand will be provided for you, as it is indispensable for the practical segments of the exam.
Your punctuality is crucial. Ensure you have your Magical Examination Permit and a thorough understanding of the Examination Guidelines.
We eagerly await your arrival and are excited to facilitate this significant step in your magical journey.
Best wishes,
Artisma Lurfkin
Head of the Department of Magical Education
Ministry of Magic
It wasn't junk mail, after all.
I rushed angrily into the kitchen to confront my Aunt and Uncle. "What are these letters?" I nearly shouted, holding it in my uncle's face.
"It doesn't matter, you're not going."
"So they are for me." My throat tightened.
"No, they aren't, you're not going."
"What does it mean, Wizard School?"
"You're not going," Uncle Vernon said, snatching the letter out of my hand. "Eat your eggs unless you'd rather starve. It's almost time for us to leave."
"But-"
"Car. Now. No arguments." Uncle Vernon pointed me out of the kitchen, and I followed his instructions before he decided to flog me.
It was nearly a half hour before the Dursleys joined me in the car. I watched the rain on the windows as I waited for them.
When they finally got in the car, Uncle Vernon seemed erratic. He didn't say a word, simply starting the engine. He didn't tell us where we were going, but now and then, he would mutter, " Shake 'em off, shake 'em off," and turn onto a new intersection.
"Dad's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley muttered indignantly.
It was nearly nightfall when we stopped at a service station. After grabbing something to eat, we waited for Uncle Vernon out by the car.
"Found the perfect place." Uncle Vernon announced as he approached.
Uncle Vernon's 'perfect place' turned out to be a hut on a rock in the sea that we had to take a boat to get to.
It was freezing and horrible in the hut, and it smelled. There were gaps in the walls, and the wind whistled through them. I was shocked that the thing was even standing, much less that it had a second floor.
It began to storm. Uncle Vernon seemed to be in an excellent mood, but he was the only one. Aunt Petunia made a bed for Dudley on the sofa with the few moth-eaten blankets she found in the spare room, tossing the thinnest, holiest one to me to make a bed on the floor.
As I lay on the floor trying to fall asleep, I drew a birthday cake in the dust, seeing as it would likely be the only one I would get that day. I closed my eyes for a moment, my wish simple: that tomorrow would be a better day than today.
I blew 'out' the candles.
BOOM
Someone was at the door.