A New Beginning
" BOY! Hurry up with those bloody eggs! I haven't got all day!" yelled Vernon Dursley, who was a rather nasty man.
Six years old Harry James Potter did not even flinch as he set the plate of breakfast down on the kitchen table. Uncle Vernon, who was a menacing fat man with a bushy moustache, might have intimidated a grown man. Not Harry though. No, he had long since gotten used to that.
" I want more bacon," proclaimed Dudley Dursley, the son of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. He was the same age as Harry, but almost four times larger.
As his uncle gazed on fondly at Dudley, Harry suppressed the urge to sigh. Ever since he had known them, his uncle and aunt had treated him like crap. No matter how hard he tried to please them, they still hated his guts. But no matter how horribly Dudley acted, they would try to give him anything he wanted. Harry had initially thought that acting like a spoilt brat would please them, but was proven wrong when he got locked up in his cardboard for three days without food.
When he was younger, Harry used to wonder what was it that caused his uncle and aunt to hate him so. Was it because of his parents, who they say had died in a car accident? Or was he just a bad kid? He had even asked his neighbor, Mrs. Figg. She told him that anyone would be delighted to have a polite and sweet boy like him as a nephew. So what was wrong? Now Harry knew better. The problem wasn't with him. It was them.
It was understandable why Harry was exhausted. Any six year old who just washed the car, mowed the lawn and cleaned the windows with the blazing hot Sun glaring down at him would be too. Aunt Petunia had punished him for something that wasn't even his fault. Dudley had tried to stuff him down the toilet bowl but he tripped, somehow landing headfirst into the toilet bowl.
Dudley claimed that Harry had pushed him. Harry could have sworn that he did not even lay a finger on him. Not that it would have mattered. Aunt Petunia would certainly not have given him the benefit of the doubt. This wasn't the first time Harry's been punished for something that wasn't his fault. It was another typical day in number four, Privet Drive. Except for the fact that Harry had enough!
' I'm running away tonight,' Harry decided, not even the least bothered to leave a letter explaining his absence. ' Not like they'll even noticed. All they do is bully me anyways.'
Making up his mind, Harry hastily packed all his belongings into a small bag. He didn't own much, apart from some old clothes and a few old toy soldiers. From underneath a small compartment in his cardboard, Harry removed a twenty-pound note. As he recalled how he had gotten that money, a small smile graced his lips.
Harry James potter had never run faster in his life. He kept on running. Harry did not realized it yet, but tears of fear welled up in his eyes. Dudley and his gang of friends were chasing after him. They were going to use him as a punching bag.
Suddenly, Harry tripped over a stone. Rolling with the impact, Harry found himself behind a bush in the park. Harry held his breath tentatively as loud footsteps thumped by. As they faded into the distance, he soon breathed a sigh of relief.
Cautiously checking to see if the coast was clear, Harry spotted a purse near the bush. Harry hesitated before opening it. The things that caught his eye were the large gold coins, the smaller silver ones and the round bronzes coins. There were normal money and an identity card too, which revealed the owner of the purse to be Arabella Figg.
Without any hesitation, Harry went up to Mrs. Figg to return her purse. Mrs. Figg was so grateful that she handed him a twenty-pound note. She told Harry to use it to buy himself something nice, muttering something about how everyone would be happy to know that he turned out to be such an honest boy.
Loud snores from Uncle Vernon jolted Harry from his reminiscing. It was time to go. Moving as silently as he could, Harry stepped out of the house and disappeared into the night.
To be continued ...