Year 1 - Chapter 6
With every step he took, Harry could feel is legs shaking. His heart hammered in his chest, and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Harry’s mouth was dry, and no matter how many times he swallowed or licked his lips nervously, nothing could moisten it. Eventually, he reached the front door, and he pushed it open. Immediately he was accosted by his uncle’s large figure looming over him, pushing him against the wall just inside the door.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Coming back here! After the trouble you’ve caused! Freak!” Uncle Vernon bellowed, spit flying onto Harry’s face. The boy cowered in front of his uncle, pressing himself into the wall praying that it would swallow him up. He felt himself starting to shake but he steeled himself pretty quickly. No way was he going to show Uncle Vernon how scared he truly was. Whilst the boy did not raise his head, Harry could hear his uncle raise his fist. He could hear his heavy breathing and the rustle of his shirt. He felt the blow land deep into his stomach, knocking the breath out of the child. Harry saw his parcels scattered carelessly on the ground – they’d been knocked from his hands when Uncle Vernon had accosted him. The large man saw Harry’s eyes move to the parcels and he scoffed.
“Those make you even more of a freak! No doubt we will receive the bill-” Harry shook his head adamantly. He wanted to scream and shout and cry that he had paid for those himself, but no sound came out. “-just like for everything else we have had to do for you. After putting food in front of you, giving you space in this house, treating you like our son! We have done everything for you, and this is how you repay us? By bringing even more of your freakish nonsense!” Uncle Vernon wheeled around. He turned briefly and stared at Harry, grinning madly, an evil glint in his eyes. He raised his foot and brought it down with force on top of Harry’s parcels. Harry winced and flinched as every stomp echoed through the silent hallway. The boy heard cracks as things broke under Uncle Vernon’s immense weight.
“That’s what I think of your freakishness!” Uncle Vernon spat. He threw Harry one last menacing glance and stormed away, slamming the kitchen door behind him. Harry was left alone in the hallway, curled up in a ball on the floor with tears finally streaming down his face. So afraid that Uncle Vernon would come back, Harry hesitantly reached out for his parcels and scooped them towards him. He piled them into his arms and crawled away to his cupboard.
Harry wasn’t sure how much time had passed after he entered his cupboard. Everyone had ignored him. No sharp raps on his door to cook and clean, no thunderous banging from Uncle Vernon coming to punish him for no reason at all. So Harry was alone and he had no sense of time in his small prison. But, by there being no one checking on him or needing him there was also no food and Harry’s stomach clenched painfully at the absence. He curled into a tighter ball, desperate to muffle to noise of his protesting stomach. Tears fell from his eyes and through bleary eyes, Harry saw the parcels again. They were piled carefully in the corner and whilst Harry had tried to fix them the best he could, they were still dented and the paper torn. Tears fell harder as the hope of being able to leave Privet Drive slipped away.
Hours, maybe days, later, there was a sharp knock on the door of his cupboard. Aunt Petunia. She was the only one to knock like that. Not polite and friendly but not murderously angry either.
“Get out. Make us dinner.”
Harry groaned and rolled over, preparing to leave his bed for the first time in god knows how long. He pushed the door open and clambered out, blinking at the bright light that contrasted so horribly to darkness of the cupboard. He walked slowly to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge door. He surveyed the contents and decided that he could make a cottage pie. That was easy. Grabbing the ingredients, he closed the door but froze when he noticed the calendar on it. 31st August. It was the 31st August. He would be going to Hogwarts tomorrow. Harry shook his head though. No. That was stupid. How would he get there? Would he be any good? Who would care if he didn’t show up. Snape’s words echoed in his mind. There wouldn’t be any more rescue missions so clearly no one would care if he didn’t show up. But Harry wanted to try. He didn’t know if he was killed for asking but Harry knew that if he didn’t ask and had to stay here, then he would definitely be dead by Christmas.
Harry set about making the dinner. He chopped carrots and boiled potatoes like the good little servant. He kept his mouth shut and made sure not to burn the dinner – or himself – when putting it in and taking it out of the oven. Harry knew that if he didn’t mess up, kept quiet, then he might get his wish. Whilst he was cooking, Harry scribbled his request to be taken to King’s Cross station tomorrow for 10am. When Harry put the dinner on the table, he waited patiently to the side. He knew he wouldn’t be invited to join them, but he thought he might be thrown some scraps, like a dog. Instead, he was ignored as his relatives shovelled their dinner into their greedy mouths. Eventually, he was noticed.
“What do you want boy?” Uncle Vernon snapped. He slammed his fork down angrily and turned to glare the at the child. Harry dropped his gaze to his feet and shuffled awkwardly towards the man, handing him the note he’d penned. Uncle Vernon scoffed and unfolded the note. As his eyes scanned it, his face grew purple with rage.
“What is this?” He asked incredulously. Harry nodded towards the note. He tried to explain himself but still no sound came out.
“You want to go to this school and you get there by train? What? No flying carpets available?” Uncle Vernon laughed at his joke. “Fine. If it will get rid of you then fine. But I’m dropping you off outside the station and you can find your own way from there. And we don’t want to see you again until at least the summer. Even better – find one of those other freaks to stay with.”
Harry nodded and turned away from the table, smiling to himself. He’d done it. He was leaving! And he was sure as hell that he was never coming back here again.
“So, did you find Mr Potter?” Albus asked Severus. It had been a few weeks now since the rescue mission but both men had been so busy that neither had had a chance to debrief.
“Obviously. You’ve seen his enrolment confirmation. You know he will be here tomorrow.” Severus drawled. He’d thought of nothing besides the boy since he’d left him. Merlin knows he’d tried not to. Severus had pulled on his strongest magic to erect occlumency shields to force him not to but little snippets of the boy he seeped through the cracks. The little flinches, the size of the boy and the obvious silence had worried Severus but he didn’t want to worry about the boy. He didn’t want to care.
“Excellent! I look forward to having him. Was everything ok with his guardians?” Albus asked hesitantly. Snape wondered his maybe Albus knew about Harry’s behaviour. Had he been watching the boy?
“They were rather unsavoury. They did not seem pleased to send him here. Harry seemed quite withdrawn and a lot quieter than I expected him to be.” Snape replied slowly. He was conscious of his words. He knew Albus would not take kindly to any negative words about the golden boy or his guardians.
“Ah well. That’s to be expected, I’m sure. No doubt Petunia raised him to be a polite child, and you are a stranger to Harry.” Albus murmured. With that, Albus clapped his hands together and stood up, signalling that the conversation was over. With a flash of lilac robes, Albus left Snape’s office. Severus sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. What would happen tomorrow, would happen and all Severus needed to focus on was his new and returning snakes – and not Harry flaming Potter.