A/N: This story takes place before Harry goes to Hogwarts
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter series, the wonderful J.K. Rowling does.
Harry was busy sweeping the kitchen floor when he heard the front door slam open. He could tell that his uncle wasn't in a good mood at all. Before Uncle Vernon left for work Harry was given a list of chores to be done by the time his uncle arrived home, and he completed everything except the laundry and dusting. Harry knew he was going to be in big trouble when his uncle found out that he failed to complete everything. Harry quickly finished sweeping the floor before his uncle would notice.
"Boy! Get over here!" screamed Uncle Vernon from his armchair in the living room.
Harry slowly made his way to the living room, his whole body was shaking.
"What is this?" Uncle Vernon asked, pointing a stubby finger in front of Harry's thin face.
"Dust," replied Harry in such a small voice that it was barley heard.
"And why is there dust on my coffee table boy?" Uncle Vernon's face began to turn a dangerous shade of purple.
"Dinner!" shouted the shrill voice of Aunt Petunia.
Dudley came running down the stairs and through the hallway, pushing Harry to the floor as he did so.
"Get in your cupboard boy. After dinner you'll be getting what you deserve," Uncle Vernon whispered to the frightened boy on the floor.
Uncle Vernon wobbled on his fat legs to the dinner table and watched Harry make his way into the cupboard. Harry sat on his bed taking deep breaths to try to calm himself down. He knew what Uncle Vernon did when he was angry and just hoped that somehow, someway, he would just be sent to his cupboard for a week without food. The possibility of this happening was very slim, but Harry needed some sort of hope to cling onto while waiting for his dreaded punishment.
It felt like just five minutes had passed before his uncle opened the door to his cupboard and dragged him by his hair into the hallway. Aunt Petunia went upstairs into her bedroom and pretended that she didn't know what was about to happen.
"Dudley get upstairs," Uncle Vernon said, his eyes not leaving Harry.
"Now!" Dudley knew better than to retaliate against his father when he was this angry. He slowly walked up to one of his bedrooms upstairs.
"Take off your shirt boy!"
Harry shakily took off his raggedy shirt and knelt down on the ground. Uncle Vernon took off his belt, a malicious grin spread across his face. He swung the belt down onto the little boy's back. Harry bit down on his lip to try to keep from screaming, blood now dripping from his bottom lip down his chin. The cold metal of the belt whipped down on his soft skin, leaving welts on his back. After five more whips, he could feel the warm blood drip down from his back and onto the floor. Uncle Vernon was laughing at the sight of the beaten boy and continued lashing the belt on his back. This went on for an hour before Uncle Vernon decided that his punishment was thorough enough. He kicked Harry in the head and put his belt back on. Harry whimpered and fell back onto the floor.
"Consider yourself lucky this time. You're to stay in your cupboard for a week and if I catch you disobeying me again I won't be so kind.
He gave Harry one last kick in the side and went to go join his wife upstairs. Harry, his back raw and bleeding, crawled to the cupboard and sat on his bed. He let the tears fall from his face and rocked back and forth.
"Mommy, Daddy, I miss you so much. I hope you're not mad at me too. I'm sorry I'm such a freak. I'm sorry I've been bad. Please forgive me. I wish they liked me, but everything I do is wrong. I can't do anything right so I know that's why they don't like me. Maybe one day I will see you guys again. I love you," whispered Harry, his eyes closed and his arms wrapped around himself trying to keep warm. He lay down on his bed and cried himself to sleep, dreaming of a kind, red haired woman and a black haired, bespectled man.