Little Whinging, Surrey, 1987

It was a usual night in the town of Little Whinging, Surrey. All was silent, but the slight whistling of the sea breeze travelling north. Rows of identical houses littered the land. The dim light of the lampposts cast feeble shadows on the deserted street below. Yet, not all was as perfect as it seemed. In a house, just like any other, lay a grave secret.
Currently, that secret was curled up in a small dusty cupboard under the stairs. It was trembling, but not of cold or fear. No, it was trembling with fury, more fury than any other seven-year-old boy should be able to muster. Tears trickled down the boy's cheeks, but they couldn't hide the determined look in his green eyes.

"Never..." the small boy whispered, "never again".

His mind wandered to earlier that day, the moment that would change the course of his life.

.

Four hours before

Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead. He had just finished working on the gardens under the blistering sun. It was long, tedious work. Aunt Petunia wouldn't accept anything but perfection, and her eyes saw every imperfection.
Harry had learned a long time ago not to try to trick her. The last time he had left his work unfinished, he had been locked in his cupboard for an entire day without any food. Suffice to say that Harry had learned his lesson.

Harry was so lost in thought that he didn't see the wall of flesh right in front of him. Neither did he see the glazed look in its eyes. What he did see, however, was the furious look on his uncle's face as he bounced off him.

"Unc... Uncle Vernon! I'm sorry, I didn't see..." Harry trailed off as he saw the vein on his uncle's temple throbbing in anger

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon bellowed at Harry's face, spittle flying from his mouth.

"Hmm, I've never seen that shade of purple before", Harry absentmindedly thought as he was thrown to the floor.

It wasn't anything new. The best bet would be to take the beating. Uncle Vernon never hurt him too badly. The bruises lasted for about a week and only hurt if you touched them.
After all, Uncle Vernon knew that he couldn't risk hurting him more than that. The school turned a blind eye so far, but even they couldn't miss a bloodied face or a broken arm.

That was why he was surprised when Uncle Vernon unleashed a powerful kick to his face. Harry's light frame flew across the room, crashing into the wall. As Vernon approached to continue his assault, Harry put up his arms in front of his face and closed his eyes. A sudden jolt passed through Harry's body, and a second later, he heard a dull thud on the other side of the room.

He opened one eye, and what he saw left his mouth agape. His mountainous uncle was sprawled across the floor, his face contorted in a mix of astonishment and pain, a rare sight that even Harry couldn't help but find strangely satisfying. That satisfaction, however, was soon replaced by fear as his uncle rose to his full height a murderous look in his eye!

"How dare you use your freakishness in this household! We gave you food, clothes, a place to live in, and that is how you repay us? I knew you were rotten to the core. Your aunt had hope that you wouldn't turn out like your freakish parents, but I knew better!" Uncle Vernon's shouting turned more and more deranged as he closed up to the boy. His pupils were dilated and his nostrils flaring.

"I'm going to do what I should've done many years ago. I'll do the world a favour and free it from your freakishness" A crazy grin appeared on Vernon's face.

Harry's eyes were wide with fear. He saw on his uncle's face that this wouldn't be like last time. This time, he was serious, and nothing was going to stop him. Harry tried to summon the same jolt that had occurred earlier but to no avail. The crackling energy that had saved him before was nowhere to be seen. This was the end. No one was going to save him. No one ever did.

"Vernon!" a shrill voice reverberated through the room, "what are you doing!"

"Petunia..." Vernon seemed to deflate under his wife's stare.

Harry couldn't believe it. Never would've he imagined that his aunt would stand up for him. He looked up at his aunt. Maybe, just maybe, someone actually cared.

"You know we can't get rid of the boy! Or else the freaks will come for us!" Petunia continued

"Yes, Pet, you're right, of course"

The slight sliver of hope was instantly crushed. It was worse than any beating that Uncle Vernon could ever give him. In that instant, he hated himself for ever believing that it could've been the case. He was a freak, no one cared about him.

His thoughts were proven to be true as a resounding slap echoed throughout the room.

"What are you waiting for?" Petunia shrieked at Harry, "Duddikins is about to come home, and I want everything to be ready for his arrival, or there will be no food for the rest of the day!"

Harry scurried off to the kitchen, knowing better than to answer. As he was preparing dinner, one thought kept repeating itself in his head :

.

Back in the present

"I won't feel powerless ever again!"

Finally having gathered up his courage, Harry decided to make his move.

Harry slipped out of his cupboard and tiptoed down the hallway, making as little sound as possible. He didn't want to imagine what his relatives would do to him if they found out he was escaping. There it was! The front door. The boy took the keys to the dresser and slowly slid them into the keyhole. One turn, two, open!

Freedom at last! The boy stood right in the middle of the street. He couldn't believe that this was truly happening! He laughed in relief. Whatever would happen, it couldn't be worse than the Dursleys. A hoot awoke him from his daydreaming. Harry hesitated for one last moment, before starting to run down the street, never looking back.

.

Sorry for the dots before the time skips. I haven't figured out how to double the spaces in between paragraphs.
If anyone knows how to do that, could you please inform me? In any case, thanks for reading!
Burgundy Phoenix signing off