Disclaimer: I don't own anything, just the plot of this story. All characters, rights, and such belong to their respective owners/authors/publishers/whoever
A/N: Due to some valid points, constructive criticism, and rereading of the material myself. I am doing a re-edit of the chapters that I have made so far. Here is the re-edit of chapter one. Hope you like it.
Slowly he became aware of the pain. When he opened his eyes all he saw was the black darkness of the small cramped space he was in.
Uncle Vernon had taken out the lone light bulb that used to be in the cupboard.
Said uncle was snoring on the couch. Harry sighed with relief. He didn't think he could handle a round two at the moment.
It was the middle of June, and 15 year old Harry Potter had been home from Hogwarts for a few weeks now.
Ever since he had gotten off the train, and back to house Number 4 on Privet Drive. It had been Hell.
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had found out that his godfather was dead, and that the headmaster was having nothing to do with Harry, and they decided to take advantage.
At this time, they seemed to take great pleasure in mocking and reminding Harry about his godfather, and the fact the Dumbledore no longer cared.
The moment Harry had set foot in the house, his uncle had shoved him into the cupboard under the stairs. And that wasn't even the worst of what was happening.
Since they couldn't get rid of Harry's magic by hiding him, or trying to make him act normal. Uncle Vernon had decided to try to beat it out of him.
Uncle Vernon used every tool he could think of. His belt, pans, shoes, canes, an old horse whip, broken pots, etc. The list was endless of the new ways Harry experienced his beatings.
All these past weeks for Harry had been was chores, chores, beatings, and more chores. When he wasn't doing any of the above he was being kept in the cupboard.
And now that he was 15, and taller it was definitely more crowded in the cupboard than when he was 10.
He couldn't even fit on the cot that he used to sleep on. It smelled musty and moldy now in the cupboard.
Harry heard his uncle get up, and was snapped out of his thoughts. A new feeling of dread filled Harry as Uncle Vernon opened the cupboard door.
"I am having a client over for dinner tonight. And this house had better be spotless by the time I get home." Uncle Vernon snarled.
Harry nodded fearfully and quickly but stiffly crawled out of the cupboard.
Harry stood up and scrambled to the kitchen. He went to where he knew the endless list of chores was located on the refrigerator.
Harry thought about Sirius once again. "I deserve all this anyway."
"I got Sirius killed, and Dumbledore hates me." He thought to himself.
"It's no wonder I'm getting the crap beat out of me." "Maybe Umbridge was right… Maybe I am just a liar, and a waste of space."
Harry began to clean up the kitchen. He looked out the window as his uncle left for work. The only small joy Harry had, had that morning was he didn't receive a second beating.
He sighed deciding not to think anymore, and to just get on with his chores. After all, there were so many of them, and Harry had so little time to accomplish them.