Harry Potter was an ungrateful freak and nothing more, or so he was told. But why would his uncle lie to him? It was true. Normal people couldn't make things float, and normal people couldn't heal as fast as he could; normal people had parents who weren't supposed drunks. Harry potter wasn't normal, that he knew for sure.
Harry Potter lived in the cupboard under the stairs at number 4 Privet Drive, Surey. A place where normal people lived and freaks weren't allowed. Harry didn't think of himself as a freak. Uncle Vernon and Dudley were more freakish than him. They had "big bones" and Harry had small bones like normal people.
The small boy was once again locked in the cramped cupboard under the stairs for doing something he couldn't explain. One minute his teacher was yelling at him for not sitting still in class when her wig turned bright blue. That shouldn't even be possible yet here he was waiting for Uncle Vernon to come home and "stamp out his freakishness." One would think that by how hard and how much they hit him. that "it" would already be gone. There were days where he felt like two chalk board erasers being beaten together until they were dust free.
A door slamming shut and a furious "BOY!" were his only warning, before his cupboard door slammed open. Harry pushed himself to the very back of the cupboard to avoid the meaty hand of his Uncle. When Uncle Vernon finally managed to pull him out, Harry had tears running down his pale cheeks and his legs shook with fear.
"Why are you crying Boy? If you're gonna cry, I'll give you something to cry about," he said, his words slurred from drinking alcohol.
Harry Potter was never seen alive again.