Harry was lying on his mattress in his cupboard. He had been locked in again after his usual morning beatings. Harry knew his uncle had always hated him. But he never asked why. It was the first rule of living with the Dursleys.

Harry desperately wanted to turn onto his side and curl up into a corner of his cupboard but thought better of it. His back hurt too much and he needed to come out soon to do his chores.

Aunt Petunia came to bang on the cupboard door again. She shoved a list at Harry as soon as he came out. It was a list of chores. The first one was to weed the garden, and then there was: paint the garden bench, scrub the windows, clean the bathrooms, polish the shelves and then cook lunch.

Harry was not excited about these. It was practically the same list of chores everyday. And when he wasn’t at school he was expected to make up for them when he got home.

Harry Potter was nine. He was short for his age but he was hardly ever seen in public. His uncle Vernon was always hitting him and locking him into the cupboard under the stairs. He had always hoped that there might be someone. Someone to take him home. A proper home, with a mum and a dad. He wouldn’t have even minded a stranger. At least they wouldn’t hit him. Harry always got rather annoyed as his aunt and uncle always said it was natural for children to be beaten. But Dudley had never been hit once. Plus he was always being given new toys and games, even something to eat that was nourishing. Harry rarely got anything to eat. Even if the did it was stale or very little. Once he had gone a full two days without anything.

At the moment he was hungry but he would never show it to his aunt and uncle.

Harry dragged his feet outside into the garden where he knelt down and began puling up the weeds. At least his uncle and Dudley were out, so they could not torment him.

Dudley had punched him a few times. No, he had actually punched him about fifty times. Harry hated to admit it, but this was the worst place on Earth.

After Harry had at last finished all his chores, he collapsed in his cupboard not even bothering to get changed.

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Harry quickly sat up. He had heard the front door slam shut. His uncle was home.

Harry knew what this meant. It was time for another punishment. He tried to hide himself under the thin sheet in a corner of his cupboard but it was too late. Uncle Vernon was already pulling him out.

Harry tried desperately to struggle free for his uncle’s grip but he was too strong.

His uncle ripped off Harry’s shirt and took a strip of wood from the kitchen.

Harry knew what was coming, and gritted his teeth together. He would not scream. That was a sign of weakness, and that was exactly what the Dursleys wanted.

Harry felt like his Uncle had been hitting him for hours. Every time the strip of wood smacked onto his back he gritted his teeth tighter and tighter. He could not struggle free as his uncle had pinned him against the wall.

A last uncle Vernon pushed Harry back into the cupboard under the stairs.

Harry lay curled up on his mattress. His knees were held up to his chin. The pain in his back was unbearable. He could feel the blood splashing onto his sheet. They were not the only things that were making his sheet wet.