Year 1 - Chapter 2
Harry’s life continued like this for the years that followed. He grew quieter and quieter until none could remember the sound of Harry’s voice. He learnt to stay silent as the punishment’s took place. Once, he was confused as the why he kept getting punished, why he was beaten for looking at his family, why he was locked under the stairs for eating something. But eventually, Harry learnt that his punishments had no reason – only for existing. The anger came more though when something happened that Harry couldn’t explain. It started on that night when he was 8, when Uncle Vernon was thrown backwards, halting his punches. Harry couldn’t understand what was happening. He didn’t know why Uncle Vernon was thrown that night, he didn’t know why his hair grew back when Aunt Petunia brutally attacked it with shears after complaining it was too long or even why he still survived when his head was repeatedly smashed against the wall to the point where the cream walls were streaked with his blood. All he knew was that he was a freak. He finally accepted the words hurled at him for ten years.
“Get the post boy!” Uncle Vernon barked from his seat at the dinner table. Harry was cooking breakfast at the stove, stopping tears from falling as he hid the pain that he felt as the hot oil jumped from the pan and onto his thin, tiny hands.
Harry nodded. He walked into the hall and picked up the small pile of letters that sat on the mat. Harry flicked through them until his eyes caught on a piece of thick parchment addressed in elegant, emerald ink.
Mr H Potter
The cupboard under the stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey
Absently, Harry wondered back into the kitchen, holding the letter in his shaking hands. He was Potter so it must be for him. What does the H stand for. His name was Boy. Dudley looked up from his enormous breakfast and saw the letter in his cousin’s hands.
“Dad! Boy has a letter!” Dudley shouted, eagerly. Uncle Vernon’s head snapped up sharply. He snatched the letter from the boy. Harry tried to protest but no sound came out. Uncle Vernon turned the letter over in his great, shaking hands and Harry watched his eyes widen at the small symbol on the back. Aunt Petunia let out a small gasp. Uncle Vernon held up his hand and Harry flinched.
“Boy. You are a freak. This confirms it. No one would want to write to you.” Harry was shoved from the room and thrown back into his cupboard. He was confused and angry but he knew not to fight it. He just accepted the unfair punishment. Why did he get put in his cupboard because someone wrote to him – somebody he did not ask to write to him. But he would not get the answers and he accepted that. He just curled up instead.
The letters kept coming over the next few weeks. First, more through the letterbox. Then, through the windows and the cracks in the door after Uncle Vernon boarded up the letterbox. And, with each arrival, Harry was punished harsher and harsher. Before long, Harry was black and blue and his whole body ached. One day though, Uncle Vernon reached his breaking point. He was bombarded with these letters flying through every crack and crevice in the house – even down through the chimney. The man grabbed Harry by the neck and dragged him out of his cupboard.
“That’s it. We are leaving. Somewhere they cannot find us!” Aunt Petunia and her large son exchanged terrified looks but did not question the mad man’s order.
Before long, the car was packed and the family was bundled into it. Harry was shoved in the back, squished up next to Dudley who took up two seats. Uncle Vernon drove like a crazy man for hours, ignoring Dudley’s cries of confusion. Rain had started to fall, lashing at the road and the car fell silent. Finally, Uncle Vernon got out and walked to a small shack on the side of the road and returned quickly carrying a long parcel. He barked at his family to get out and soon they were sat in a small, rickety boat, sailing across the dark lake to reach an island that sat in the middle. Reaching the shore, the family entered the crumbling, wooden barn. The wind whipped and howled, shaking the structure the 4 people now stood in. Uncle Vernon walked away quietly and sat on a chair in the corner, staring intently at the door. Aunt Petunia followed and sat beside her husband, stroking his arm and whispering in his ear. Dudley groaned and sat on a third chair, staring at his parents. Harry, noticing that there were no more chairs, curled up quietly in the corner and shivered as the cold washed over him.
Hours later, Harry woke to a loud banging. He flinched, eyes roaming the dark room they were in. The terrified boy feared that he would see Uncle Vernon bounding towards him, blaming his for the noise that woke them in the middle of the night.
“What on earth is that noise. Is that you boy?” Uncle Vernon yelled, his eyes finding Harry still curled in the corner he had chosen hours ago. Harry shook his head, his voice still not being found. There was a blast of light and the door blew off its hinges, crashing to the stone floor. Shadowed by the dark outside, but illuminated every now and then by the flashes of lightning, stood a tall, slim man. The strange man stepped into to dwelling and the fire cast light onto him. He wasn’t large, but slim and athletic looking. He had a pale, sharp face with jet black eyes. He wore a sneer on his face, as if he was smelling something horrible. He had long, black hair that fell lankly down to his shoulders. It was greasy but looked well kempt and smooth. As his eyes fell on Harry in the corner, the sneer got larger.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Aunt Petunia asked quietly, her voice shaking. The stranger looked away from Harry and turned to look at the woman who spoke.
“Oh Tuni. Don’t you remember me? I am upset.” The man faked feeling hurt, a smirk gracing his face.
“You! Leave. Now.” Aunt Petunia spat, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. She whispered into her husband’s ear and Uncle Vernon’s twisted in rage. He opened his mouth to speak, but the stranger raised his hand, stopping the venom that Harry was sure Uncle Vernon spew from coming out.
“I am Professor Severus Snape and I am here to take Harry Potter to school.”