It was a normal evening- there was nothing special or extraordinary about it. The rain fell in thin sheets and made soft sounds as it calmly interrupted the silent city streets. Harry sat in front of the window of Dudley's second bedroom with his legs pulled up to his chest, green eyes wide with awe. He wanted to count every single raindrop. Sometimes it was the simplest, most mundane things that fascinated him the most. It was a breathtaking scene, watching the rain wash away all the dirtiness. Moments like this reminded him that there was beauty somewhere in the world, and that thought was all he had left. That thought gave him hope. Sometimes when the beatings came, they'd be as fast as the rain coming down. This counting was good practice- he practiced counting a lot. He closed his eyes and gave in to sleep, wondering vaguely if his uncle would ever notice, and if he did- would it matter?