Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Harriet’s eyes snapped open in the darkness of her cupboard, her already terrible eyesight trying to blink away the sleep that stubbornly clung to her eyes, making her unable to discern her reality from her dreams for a moment. Reaching out just beside her headboard, she grabbed her glasses and quickly put it on. Feeling slightly better about this, she reached above her head and switched on the single, dim light bulb in the small space. She observed the cramped space in what one would call a calmly-detached manner, her eyes, normally filled with her child-like curiosity, were a dull green.
The cupboard was barely big enough to accommodate her growing frame, and between the cobwebs on almost every surface and the live spiders skittering along the walls and the bedpost, she had learned to grimly accept them, as she had done for everything in her life so far. Drawing her legs up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees and tried to remember the strange, but pleasant dream she’d had. Her brows furrowed in equal parts concentration and frustration as she tried to focus on the dream, just then, she managed to grasp at the fading edges of her dream and remember; she had been flying… on a motorcycle, and it was wonderful.
Harriet fell back on her bed and tried to fully immerse herself in the feeling again. She could still remember the odd angle she was in, as if she had been lying on her back. She could still feel the wind tousling her hair and a blurry figure just beyond her range of vision. Harriet had the strangest feeling just then, as if the dream was not a dream at all. It was almost as if… as if it was a memo-
“LILY! LILY, WAKE UP YOU SILLY GIRL!”. And just like that, her aunt’s shrill shriek broke her out of her reverie, the already faint traces of the dream slipping through her fingers like a gentle breeze. She heaved a great sigh and clambered out of bed, opening her door to the sight of her aunt just beyond her doorway. As her eyes adjusted to the morning sunlight streaming into the corridor, she raised her gaze to meet her aunt’s, carefully observing her face to determine her mood this morning.
Her red-painted lips were stretched widely in to what could not be called a pleasant smile on her long, pale face, as though they were having a pleasant conversation about the weather outside, and not as if she had been shrieking her name like the hounds of Hell were after her barely a minute ago. The sunlight had been caught in her neatly combed blonde hair, highlighting the left side of her face and her long neck, while the right side was cast in shadows. Her overall appearance resembled the villains in the TV programmes that Dudley loved so much; which was why Harriet could barely fight back the urge of a full body shiver. This will not be a pleasant morning, for her herself at least.
“Good morning, Aunt Petunia.” She greeted her with all the courage she could muster. Her aunt’s smile never faltered. Harriet thought it was creepy.
“Do you know what day it is, Lily ?”
Of course she did, how could she ever forget? They’ve been ringing it in her bloody ears since last month.
“It’s Dudley’s birthday, ma’am.”
“That’s right, and I want everything perfect for my Duddykins. Do you understand ?”
Harriet had to fight down the urge to twist her face up in revulsion at the horrid nickname. She barely did, and just in time, too, as Aunt Petunia was looking at her expectantly, with that bloody smile still planted firmly on her face.
She pasted on a near identical smile as she could manage herself and replied “Yes, aunt.”
She saw how her Aunt Petunia’s eyes flashed suddenly in anger, how her smile was strained so much that it quivered, and Harriet knew in that moment... that she had cocked up. She felt, instead of saw, her aunt raise her hand, the whip-like coil of displaced air brushing her skin like a blade. There was nothing she could do to prevent the inevitable, so she closed her eyes reflexively just as the blow came. The sharp smack resounded in the small enclosure as her head twisted to the side, her body following the direction of her head. Harriet crashed against the wall of her cupboard with a thump, shaking a few of the spiders loose from the ceiling, and slid down to the dirty floor, clutching her bruised cheek. A deafening silence echoed between them as they stared at each other; Harriet in pain and Aunt Petunia in, unexpectedly, surprise, as if her smacking the bloody hell out of her own niece was a surprise to her. A worried look immediately replaced the one of surprise as she knelt beside her niece, reaching for the red cheek almost gently. Harriet did flinch when her bony hands grasped the sore area.
"Oh, Lily, why did you have to do that? You know that I do not appreciate sarcasm. Why did you have to make me hit you?"
Harriet could only stare at her with blankly, carefully hiding her dumbfounded expression after years of training. She adopted a mask of contrition as she said: "I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia. I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean to hurt you. It won't happen again, I promise."
Aunt Petunia grasped her chin as she gazed at her face with all the intensity of a hawk observing it's prey. Harriet felt sweat beading on her brow under the intensity she was subjected to, as she sincerely hoped that her aunt had been convinced, because if not, she will be getting the belt from her uncle later. Her act must have been passable at least as Aunt Petunia's face smoothed out and then settled on a mockery of a gentle smile.
“Good. Now, go make breakfast.”
….…………………………………….
Harriet was just four-years-old when she first heard her real name.
She could still remember that day as if it were yesterday, how her aunt had rudely roused her from a rather fitful sleep with the same recurring dream - the one with the green flash - and quickly forced one of Dudley's old t-shirts and a loose sweater over her head. The confusion was apparent on her small face as she had wanted to ask what was going on, but cleared up somewhat when she saw that her Aunt Petunia was bedecked in a fine dress. She was probably still feeling groggy from her interrupted sleep, because the next thing she knew, as they were walking toward the front door, was that her face made a rather mortifying collusion with Aunt Petunia's backside.
The young girl immediately recoiled from the contact. As her eyes welled up with tears, she took several steps backwards and looked up at her aunt’s face with barely constrained panic written plainly on her face. The reason she had gone for so long without being called her rightful name was apparent in this brief interaction, though she had not known this at the time. Because she went by another, one that she couldn't comprehend at the time, but knew instinctively was a bad word, because of how it was being said, and it was...
"Do mind where you step," Her aunt's face curled up in disgust, "Freak."
The poor girl had closed her eyes and tensed up in anticipation of a smack, but for the first time in her life, it didn't come. She had opened her eyes slowly, one first, then the other and blinked in confusion at her aunt who had opened the front door and was now waiting for her impatiently outside.
"Well, come on then, I don't have all day you know. I have to come back to take care of Dudley, you know how sick he is." She hurriedly ran past her aunt as she shut the door, and what happened after were a series of surreal experiences for the little girl.
They got into Uncle Vernon's car, the one he wouldn't even let her touch, only to give it a wash, and her aunt drove them off. She didn't dare to voice her disbelief as she sat on the rather comfortable seat in the back. She didn't know where they were going, and although that should have been a cause for alarm for an older person, she was more excited about the view they were passing by outside. She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew was that she was being shaken awake.
"Get up, we're here." She blinked slowly as she tried to process what the older woman had said, trying to figure out where 'here' was. She clambered out of the car and her aunt led her inside the large building they had parked by.
They walked up to a lady sitting at a tall desk that she could barely see over, and she and Aunt Petunia started talking, but she hadn't minded this much, instead picking at a loose thread on her sweater. She had been told to behave, so she was trying her best to so. She must have completely tuned them out because her aunt lightly tapped her on her shoulder to get her attention. She looked up and saw the smiling lady looking at her. She thought the smiling lady was pretty.
" What is your name, love?" She felt warm and fuzzy with that kind smile being directed at her. No other adult had done that before. Also, she didn't know what this 'love' the lady had said was, but maybe it was a good thing, since she had said it so kindly. It didn’t sound the same way her aunt says her name. That was probably what made her bold enough to reply.
"It's Fr-"
"Her name, as you had seen in the documents I had handed you, is Harriet Lily Potter."
She was startled by her aunt's voice, as she had completely forgotten she was there. Also what did her aunt just say?
.................
The ride home was filled with silence, leaving the young girl to her own thoughts. 'I thought my name was Freak, but it's Har-, Har-, Haret something.' Her small face scrunched up in a frown as she tried to remember the strange name she had only heard once. She knew what she had to do to know it. She has to ask a- a- a question, which she was forbidden to do.
She kept glancing at the driver's seat in front of her, repeatedly dreading it, but oh so curious. She then made the mistake of glancing at the rear view mirror, and squarely met her aunt's eyes. A stifling beat of silence seemed to stretch in the space between them as they held each other's gaze for what seemed like an eternity. The poor girl suddenly felt like she was choking on her breath, drowning in the sea of panic that was engulfing her. Aunt Petunia finally tore her gaze from hers and replied to her unspoken question.
"We'll talk when we get home." And that was that. They didn’t say anything to each other for the rest of the ride, her aunt staunchly ignoring her and herself trying to make herself sink into her custom-leather seat and disappear.
They arrived home shortly and Aunt Petunia, after instructing the girl to wait at the table, dashed upstairs to check on her “wee Dudykins.” The girl wasn’t allowed upstairs of course, a fact she had learned early on in her years. This was probably a small mercy, as barely a minute later a wail echoed through the otherwise silent house, making her fight down a flinch for God knows how many times today. She knew that her cousin Dudley was vocal when he wanted something, but at times when he was sick, like now, it was just plain ridiculous.
She went to the dinning table and scrambled up one of the chairs, waiting for her aunt to come back down, and desperately trying to remember her own name. It took quite a while before her aunt came back, smoothing the noticeably wrinkled and damp spots on her dress from where the girl supposed Dudley had grabbed and cried on his mother. She held a soft smile as she gently shook her head, muttering how her “Duddykins” was suffering from a cold, seeming to have forgotten that her niece was there. The girl adjusted herself in her seat, which drew her aunt’s attention. She cleared her throat and walked over to seat herself across from her. The girl tried to sit still enough to listen to her aunt speak across from her, since she knew how much she hates when she fidgets. Aunt Petunia cleared her throat once again and spoke.
“Now then, I want you to listen to me closely, Fre-” Aunt Petunia stopped and inhaled sharply.
“Ahem. As I were saying, I want you to listen to me. Starting next week, you are going to be attending school with your cousin, and I don’t want to be phoned for any of your freakishness at school…”. Aunt Petunia went on and on about a new set of rules which she should follow at ‘school’, and the girl listen as attentively as she could at the moment. She must have zoned out for a moment because the only thing she heard next was : “Am I clear, girl ?” She looked at her small form with her eyebrows raised.
“Yes, Auntie Petunia.”
Aunt Petunia rose from her seat with finality, not even bothering to glance back as she tossed out : “Good. Now, off to your cupboard with you. I need to go back to Dudders.”
The girl scrambled out of her seat and dashed to her door, but she hesitated just as her aunt was about to climb up the stairs overhead. She didn’t want the conversation to end yet, after all, there is still something her aunt haven’t told her. She stood in the hallway, starring at the black shoes Aunt Petunia was sporting that day, and stilled herself to ask a- a- a question, the mere thought of it making the sweat that had broken out against her forehead chill almost instantly against her skin. She didn’t know when she will get such a chance again, but for the life of her, she couldn’t get the words out, so she just stood there, trembling, and starring at her aunt’s shoes… and the feet in them which had suspiciously stopped moving.
She slowly moved her gaze upwards, past the bottom hem of her aunt’s dress, and to the red-painted fingernails whose white-knuckled grip on the banister made her hesitate to move her gaze further upwards. She kept her gaze pointedly on said hand, not daring to move it anywhere else, which was probably why she noticed the grip getting tighter, so much so that a bit of paint chipped off from under one of her nails. She didn’t need to look Aunt Petunia in the face to know that she was being murderously glared at.
“Well ?” She heard her aunt snap, and she flinched, “Out with it, then.”
The poor child was visibly shaking now, her clammy hands desperately clinging to the hem of her oversized sweater to muster her courage. She had to speak now, or else her aunt will punish her for wasting her time. She finally raised her head to see her aunt’s face in all its murderous glory, and felt her throat go dry again in panic.
“Why, speak up you little-”
“M- MY NAME.” The girl had yelled so suddenly that her aunt had been startled in to snapping her mouth shut. The girl tried again.
“B- Back there, y- you said my name.” She squeaked out, much more quietly this time. She gulped loudly, seeming to muster her courage again, and continued. “I- you said it back there an- and I- I want to know what it is. Please ? Please ?
Her aunt, who had been startled earlier, was now regarding her silently after her initial outburst. The silence stretched out between them for what seemed like forever. The girl, for the first time in her life, kept her gaze stubbornly level with her aunt through this. She thought she must have imagined it, but something seemed to flicker in her aunt’s eyes. And then she smiled. The sight of it being directed at her made her so gob smacked that her mouth dropped open. Before her mind could link the usual image she had of Aunt Petunia with this new development, her aunt had swiftly descended the stairs and, leaning over the small form, grabbed her by her chin, forcing her face up to look at the one looming over hers. She seemed to be searching for something as her gaze roamed the small face below hers. In the tense silence that followed, the girl held her breath in anticipation as she tried not to cry out in pain from the nails digging into her chin. Whatever it was that she was searching for, her aunt must have found it, because the iron-like grip loosened from her chin and instead smoothed a palm on the girl’s cheek.
“You looked so much like her just now.” Aunt Petunia breathed in barely a whisper, turning the girl’s face left and right. “Oh, so much, my dear Lily.” The hand still caressed her cheek gently, scaring the child even more. Aunt Petunia’s blue gaze then stared deep into green ones, and her expression shifted so fast the girl had to blink to catch it.
“But you aren’t her, are you?” She dropped her hand as suddenly as she had held the child’s face, making the little girl fall on her tushie. She now loomed over her at her full height, her glare returned. But this time, it didn’t seem as intense as before, and the girl still couldn’t make sense of the situation.
“I’ll only say this once more, so you better listen. Your name, is Harriet Lily Potter.”
She turned and proceeded up her original route on the staircase, only stopping once more to glare down disdainfully at the child still seated on the floor.
“Don’t make me repeat myself once more. Go. To. Your. Cupboard.”
The newly dubbed Harriet Lily Potter skittered through the door next to her so fast that she couldn’t even remember how she got in at all if it wasn’t for voice that called after her closing door.
“Oh, and no dinner for you tonight.”
The child collapsed on her small bed and curled in to a ball. Her stomach growled loudly in the darkness and she desperately tried to ignore it. She wasn’t too sad however, as she finally knew her real name.
She shimmied under the thin sheet as the chill got to her, chanting her newly acquired name over and over. ‘Harriet Lily Potter. Harriet Lily Potter.’ She decided then, in that moment, that she rather liked the name Harriet, and started to fall asleep.
She was just dozing off when two thoughts popped into her mind.
‘One, who was this Lily person her aunt spoke about?’
‘Two,… what is love ?’
She fell asleep the sound of her growling stomach, being used to it by now. Deciding that those were questions could wait for another day.
….………………..
“…y.”
“...ly.”
“LILY.” Harriet snapped out of her thoughts as she felt herself being spun by bony hands on her shoulders, to face her rather disgruntled aunt. Her thin checks looked slightly red, displaying her annoyance.
“Didn’t you hear me speaking to you?”
“...no, ma’am.” Aunt Petunia searched her face to see if she was lying. Finding no evidence of deception, she relaxed her hands slightly from where her nails were digging into skin, and smiled.
“As I was trying to tell you, you’ll be coming with us to the zoo today.” She must have noticed Harriet’s questioning gaze, because she elaborated. “Mrs. Figg had an accident, so she won’t be watching you.”
Harriet felt happiness flow from her core in waves, and she couldn’t help but smile widely at that. The Dursleys never took her with them on their trips, so this will be the first time for her. ‘Sorry, Mrs. Figg. It’s a shame what happened to you, but you have granted me an opportunity here.’ She was so ecstatic that she actually forgot that Aunt Petunia was standing right in front of her. She snapped back to reality however, when she felt her chin being grasped again for the second time that day, forcing her face up.
“Of course, I don’t need to remind you to behave, do I ?” Aunt Petunia caressed her cheek as she searched Harriet’s expression once more. Of course Harriet didn’t need a reminder, the slap from earlier that morning stinging as her aunt smoothed a palm against her abused flesh. ‘ I have all the reminder I need at the moment.’
“No, ma’am. I promise that I’ll behave.” She replied resolutely.
Aunt Petunia smiled again, making her feel like Harriet feel like she was going to have a heart attack. ‘Goodness, she’s too close.’ Her hands dropped from her niece’s face.
“Good girl. Now, go dress up. We leave in fifteen minutes.”
Harriet spun on her heel and dashed to her ‘room’ in record speed, thinking : ‘It’s going to be a good day.’
….…………………..
It was not a good day.
It was a disaster.
‘How could I have been so stupid. I should be used to it by now, nothing ever goes well for me.’ Thought Harriet as she curled up on her bed in the darkness, her back and bottom smarting as her skin pulled from being in the fetal position.
Uncle Vernon had wasted no time in taking off his belt to whip her like the whelp he said she was, with Dudley laughing, and Aunt Petunia expressing her disappointment in her, as soon as Dudley’s friend, Piers Polkiss, had left and the door closed.
She laid there in the dark, wondering what was wrong with her, why they couldn’t love her the way they do Dudley, and sighed. She didn’t even have the energy to cry, having used up all her tears all these years living with them.
She crept under her sheets and just stared blankly at the walls, letting her misery consume her.