Black and Smokey
“They found a body in a car by the lake.”
“Do you think-” “She’s fifteen, she can’t drive and doesn’t have a learners permit yet.”
“I was just asking, jeez.”
“Yeah, well don’t ask stupid questions.”
“It’s crazy that she hasn't come home yet though.”
“Can we just go to class? I don’t want to hear about this stupid shit anymore.”
…
Harry Potter is almost eleven years old. He has a lot more chores to do and he is not allowed to do any type of magic. He gets up at 5:30 in the morning to make sure the kitchen looks so shiny you could see your face in it, and then has to make a breakfast so big you’d think they were having a christmas dinner with half the block and their children, and then he has to make sure that the whole kitchen is clean once more before sweeping the tiles in the house, vacuuming the carpets, cleaning both of Dudley’s room under the watchful eye of Petunia, cleaning both bathrooms until they’re spotless, prep everything he’s going to need for dinner, and then go out at 2 pm when its hottest outside to pull the weeds and plant new flowers.
Then, at exactly 2:45 pm everyday Petunia and Dudley go outside so Petunia can get her steps in and pick up Dudley from school afterwards and get him something to eat. Harry is not allowed to go to school because when he did go Dudley would beat up someone and then say that Harry did it, causing him to get in trouble at school and at home, until he got expelled. Petunia just tells everyone that Harry is homeschooled, but she just makes him do chores all day. We’re going off track. At 2:55 pm Harry comes in from gardening, picks up the phone, and starts to dial Yvet’s number. He clears his throat, and gets ready to do his best impression of Petunia. He’s been doing this for about four and a half years now, and it is always the highlight of his week. Today, he’s going to act out how Petunia thinks Vernon is cheating on her with a girl three blocks down. Or he was, before Petunia opened the door to grab her keys and saw him with the phone in his hand. For exactly 8.02 seconds they’re just staring at each other before Petunia realises that he has the phone in his hand, something he is forbidden to touch, and not outside gardening. She looks outside to the garden, seeing it still has the holes he put in there for the flower seeds that are not in the holes.
“Who are you calling, boy?” She says flat and calmly, which scares Harry more than he would like to admit, and he’s still just staring at her with a blank face and wide eyes. He tries to call on his magic, but he doesn’t remember the feeling of it, and it doesn’t work. “Do Not. make me ask you again. Who. Are. You. Calling.” she says it with the same amount of flatness, but no more calmness. She’s angry. Harry hates when Petunia gets angry, because that's when she gets physical. Petunia isn’t particularly strong, but for a malnourished ten year old that bruises easily, almost any and everything hurts his small body. Harry quickly hangs up the phone right as Petunia starts flouncing over to him. She grabs his wrist right when he drops the phone on the receiver and throws him to the floor. His wrist is already turning a shade of purple on his medium brown skin. Petunia immediately picks up the phone and starts to dial a number. “Hello, may I speak with Vernon Dursley please?” And now Harry knows he’s in deep shit. Whenever Petunia calls Vernon at work it always ends badly for Harry. Last time she called him Harry was sure he had gotten a concussion and a broken arm. It had not healed right and now Harry could pop it if he rolled it. And every single time it was always a worse punishment. He immediately ran off into the front yard and hopped over the fence and ran down the street. He didn’t have any shoes on and it was hot outside, but nothing could stop him from getting away from the punishment he was going to get.
<<<
Vernon Dursley was furious. First, he was woken up half an hour earlier than he usually did by that freakish boy they were forced to take in, but he had decided not to do anything because if he had he wouldn’t have his usual breakfast on time. Then when he got to work he found that his favourite bakery had closed down, so he had to drive 20 minutes to the other bakery that had higher prices, on top of that he had gotten a call from his lovely wife saying that that boy was on the phone while he was supposed to be gardening. He had asked her who he was on the phone with, since the boy couldn’t possibly have a reason to talk to anybody at all, And his wife told him that he didn’t answer her and hung up the phone before she could figure it out and then ran down the street. So Vernon not only had to clock out early, but now he had to drive around to look for this boy also. He was driving around for most of the day and even into the night and had to stop and buy gas twice. He then had given up and drove home only to find that one of the neighbours had found him and dropped him off. Now he was really irate. He grabbed the boy by the back of his neck and forced him on the floor while he sat on the couch. “Who the hell were you on the phone with, boy!” He bellowed, keeping the struggling Harry pressed to the ground. He could hear muffled sounds coming from the child and lifted his head. “What did you say!” The boy was teary eyed and his nose was a little red from what probably was carpet burn. “I wasn’t on the phone with anyone!” “So you’re yelling at me now boy!” Vernon let go of his nape and backhanded him so hard he fell on the carpet. “Get up!” The boy scrambled to stand on shaky legs, he was breathing heavily and the tears were coming down his cheeks. Vernon also stood up and grabbed his belt. Harry’s eyes widened and he wished more than anything to be anywhere but here. “Who were you calling on the phone!” “I wasn’t calling, um, anyone.” He stuttered. Vernon lifted the belt. “Stop lying! Who the hell were you calling!” “No-” Before Harry had even gotten a word in he was hit with the belt. In the face, since they didn’t have to worry about the school teachers seeing. Harry immediately went to hold his face. He was crying loudly now. “Shut your mouth unless you’re telling me who you were on the phone with!” Harry kept crying. Petunia and Dudley were just sitting there watching him. Vernon whipped him with the belt again, on his stomach this time. Harry had folded over and cried louder. Vernon had enough and grabbed his left arm and squeezed. “Who were you calling, boy!” You could hear the crack as Vernon squeezed harder when Harry wouldn’t answer. And Harry started screaming now. Vernon started shaking him and screaming at him, and Harry couldn’t take it anymore.
Everything blew up with black smoke. That's the only way he could describe what had happened. Harry stopped crying and looked around. It was like a dystopia. There was nothing but rubble. No neighbours, no houses, no park down the street, no Dursleys. Just Harry.
An owl had come to drop off a letter.
Mr. H. Potter, Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4. Privet Drive, Little Whinging, SURREY.