Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter, all that is for the Lovely JK Rowling…
Warning: Child abuse, pedophilia, child rape. For mature audiences only
Clouds rolled through the darkening sky. It was not an overly warm summer day but the hum of air conditioners filled the Surrey suburb. All of the near nondescript houses lined the small street, the lawns perfectly trimmed and not a blade of grass out of place. Number four Privet Drive, Surrey was perfectly normal from the outside, it was th inside however that would send chills down the most reserved and stoic of figures if they were to venture inside. The furniture was pristine and well kept, not an item out of place. If one were to head towards the kitchen however in the back of the house one would find a small broom closet under the stairs with several locks fastened to the outside. Normally one would not venture to question why some one would lock such a random broom closet unless one thought perhaps that was where the family within kept their most valuable items.
" BOY!…get your lazy hide up and cook dinner before your uncle gets home!"
a shrill womans voice sounded as a tall thin horse faced woman unlocked two locks on the cupboard and banged her flat hand on the door twice before storming off back towards the kitchen. Inside a small boy who looked to be the age six fixed a pair of taped up wire framed round glasses on his face as he slowly came out of the small space. His dark brown hair an oily mess that fell about his bright green eyes. His over large rag like clothes seemed to swamp his small frame as he moved quietly to the kitchen where he washed his hands and rolled up his sleeves under the ever watchful eyes of his movements were jerky as it looked as if it hurt for him to move or breath. His small thin framed covered in bruises, a testament to the punishment that his uncle had gifted him for not getting his breakfast ready as fast as he would have wanted that morning.
" Don't you dare think about burning that meatloaf either freak…I will not have my Dudders getting sick because your lack of attention."
She stated as the small boy ducked his head and went about cutting onions just right for the meatloaf mixture.
the small boy answered as he concentrated on what he was doing. To be honest the boy enjoyed cooking and it was actually one of the things he looked forward to. He of course never got to eat any of the food he had cooked as all scraps were disposed of and he was forbidden from having, no a freak like him got a slice of bread and a glass of water, or old soup if he were lucky twice a week. Once the meatloaf mixture was in a meatloaf pan and in the oven he washed his hands again and began the sides. baked beans and macaroni and cheese were two of his cousin Dudely's favorite foods and it seemed like the only thing the over weight whale of a boy seemed to like and always found a way to get the smaller boy in trouble for.
Petunia Dursley was not what many would call a nice woman, sure she could look the part of a proper suburban housewife who doted on her husband and only son but she was under it all a jealous and vengeful woman. Her eyes watched the son of her only sister as he worked. She did not like the freak in her house, she did not want him in her house at all but after her sister and husband in law got themselves killed eight years ago she was tasked to keeping the wretched boy, it was only because of the money they received that she had not dumped him off at an orphanage..or over the side of a bridge. She watched as he worked wordlessly and scowled, he was just like his ungrateful mother in the way he tried to look so innocent but she knew better and she would not allow his freakishness to infect her perfect little life. She went back to scanning her magazine and sipping tea while glancing at the clock. Her husband Vernon Dursley would be home in an hours time and she knew that if dinner was not done there would be hell to pay and she was not sure if the small boy could handle another punishment that day.
It was not but ten minutes before Vernon Dursley was scheduled to come that the small boy finished plating the food and was promptly ushered back to the cupboard and two locks put back in place.
The small boy winced as he was all but shoved by his ear back into his room, it was dark and he was not allowed to use the light while his family were awake. Curling up onto the small baby crib mattress he hugged a ratty, torn and dirty stuffed rabbit that his cousin had tossed and when he had taken out the trash he had saved it and smuggled it back into the house and hid it in his small safe place. His Aunt Petunia had of course found it once but as it was dirty she had only accused him of stealing but had let him keep the treasure as it was so dirty that she did not want to get her hands dirty from it. The small torn rabbit that he affectionately called Bobbbity was his only friend and who he told all his thoughts to, not that the eight year old had many. His body however tensed as the sound of his uncle arriving home was heard through the small door and his loud foot steps stomped up the stairs above him. He could not make out the large mans words but the fact that he had not come for him right away sent a sigh of relief through the small boy as he hugged the rabbit a bit tighter a small whisper to be saved from this place whispered into the matted fabric of his long time and only friend before he took his glasses off and set them on a small milk crate that he used for a table, it was were he his all the broken small toys Dudley had discarded that would not have been missed as well as some broken crayons in which he had salvaged as well with some old paper. He had drawn several drawings over his short life none that he thought were any good, his aunt of course had scowled at them so they must have been horrible, but he had tried.
Closing his tired eyes his stomach clenched in hunger as the scent of the food he had slaved over to cook filled his tiny room, but he only curled tighter to quieten the rumbling for fear that his uncle would actually hear it and blame him for being too loud. No…freaks like him were not allowed to be heard, and preferably never seen either. He felt as if he had just dozed off when the door to his small room was ripped open and the purple face of his uncle loomed over him. His sight blurry as he scrambled for his glassed but before he could reach them his arm was grabbed and he was pulled from the room roughly. The older man's meaty hands gripping his harm as he drug him to the kitchen were Dudley was getting sick in the sink.
" You made him sick you little freak!" he yelled as the small boy looked frantic and shook his head as he knew he had cooked the food just right. Dudley had not been feeling good all day he had even come home from school early, it could not have been the food that he had cooked.
" Please…no…I…I didn't" his small voice pleaded but the back of his uncle's hand slammed hard into his lip as the tiny boy spun and slammed into the floor, blood dripping from his lip.
" Don't you dare lie to me boy!" he growled as he grabbed the boy again.
" I am tired of your lies!" he said as he dragged him out of the kitchen and down to the basement. Tossing him down the stairs first, the sound of the small boy crying out in pain as a snap was heard and his tiny arm looked a bit out of place. He tried to pull himself away from this lumbering uncle who came down the stairs and grabbed him again pulling him up to yell at him again. His large purple face inches from his small battered one as the pain in his arm and body shot through him.
" Pl…please….I….Ill be good …please" he pleaded with his uncle but the man refused to listen as his hands gripped at the boys over sized pants and yanked them down his bony malnourished frame.
" You fucking will be!" Vernon growled as he forced the small boy over a wooden table and unzipped his own pants before roughly entering the tiny boy who screamed out in pain as his uncles cock ripped and filled him. He screamed for what seemed like eternity before his world went black. Vernon used him for what seemed like an eternity and his own satisfaction was met. Zipping up his pants he pulled the pants roughly back up the tiny boys body and drug him back up the stairs and tossed him like a rag doll back into his cupboard locking all the locks once and for all. He stood a the door panting heavily before taking a deep breath and walking calmly back into the kitchen to check on his only son and wife, the boy better hope that his Dudders was okay.
It was not until the early morning hours that the small boy regained somewhat of consciousness, he was in so much pain that he could not breath or move, he was bleeding still and his pants were stiff where the blood had dried in his pants. He felt like he was on fire. Tears leaked from his eyes as he tried to curl into himself but anytime he moved pain ripped through him and he knew if he made any noise his uncle would be even more furious. Harry James Potter wished that night that he would be saved.