Harry was just three years old when he hid in his cupboard, scared for his life as he held a glass of water in his hand. The water was slightly red where his blood had begun to drip into the half-empty glass. A glass that wasn’t half full.
His arm had a long gash down it that had been by his uncle slashing him with a razor. The pain had made Harry’s young form scream, but that just made it worse. So he stopped. He took a quiet mouthful of the drink, having not had one for three days before this.
“Potter! Potter! Get your fat ass here!” Vernon, Harry’s uncle, shouted from the living room. He stumbled out of it, a bottle of vodka in his fat hand. Harry put his hand over his mouth, terrified of what was going to happen to him.
His uncle looked through the cupboard door to see if Harry was there, and when he saw that he was, his face turned into one of rage. He lunged towards Harry, throwing punches at him as Harry screamed and squirmed trying to get away. Mercilessly, his continued, dropping his vodka onto the dirty floor.
“What is this?” Vernon asked, stopping the punches as blood ran down Harry’s face. pointing at the glass that was in Harry’s hand. Silence. Vernon hit Harry again, causing Harry to howl with pain.
“I ASKED YOU A QUESTION BOY!” Vernon spat into Harry’s face. Harry went still, his eyes red with tears.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Harry said in a small voice, cowering as his uncle came closer to him, dropping the glass causing it to smash loudly. He took Harry by the collar, a sickening sneer on his now purple face.
“You better be,” Vernon whispered harshly before dragging Harry up to the bathroom and throwing him into the shower and turning in up to the highest setting. Harry screamed, trying to get out. But Vernon closed the door and held it shut.
Harry stared at the letter Hagrid had given him with dull eyes. Nothing surprised him anymore. Every day he was faced with something new. A new punishment, a new drug... learning that magic was real? That was just another thing he’d learned that was new. It was no different to learning how to enjoy the pain he endured. He did, however, ask one question:
“Why should I go?” Hagrid looked dumbfounded. It seemed he’d never met somebody like Harry before. Harry assumed most people would be shocked at the news and would be delighted and excited. But Harry just didn’t care. He didn’t want to go, really. They would lie to him and tell him he was special. Just like any other school. They were liars. At least the Dursleys told Harry the truth. He was a fat cunt, an ugly mess, a disgusting freak, a worthless piece of shit, a useless crack head, a waste of space and a stupid asshole.
“Why should you go? Well Harry, so you can learn magic, of course!” Hagrid told him in a gruff voice. Harry snorted slightly. He was ever so slightly curious but he didn’t want to leave behind what he had.
“Should I go, Uncle? I’ll go if I’m allowed.” His uncle looked at Harry in fury and anger. His face turned purple. He was usually calm around visitors, but this was the last straw for Vernon. Harry knew he was in for a beating later. He found himself wanting Hagrid to leave so that he could get to that point. He wanted to hurt.
“No, you won’t!” Vernon shouted. Harry knew his Uncle would say that. He didn’t care. Hagrid was furious. He raised his umbrella threateningly and pointed it at Vernon. “Now, get out of here! Now or I’ll call the police!”
“Don’t worry Harry, I’ll sort it out.” Hagrid opened the door and left the cabin. Harry looked over to Vernon and knew he was going to get it. But he wasn’t scared. He found himself willing his Uncle to hurt him more and more recently.
“Potter,” Vernon said through gritted teeth. Harry straightened his back so his Uncle knew he was listening. He grabbed Harry’s arm and held it tightly and tugged on him. Harry looked over to Dudley who was eating the cake Hagrid had given to him. He didn’t care. He knew he was too fat to eat, anyway. “Come with me.”
“You are going to regret ever being born, boy! Take off your clothes! That includes your underwear and scalf!” Vernon said when they got to an empty room in the cabin. Harry did as he was told. His back was covered with long gashes, brushes, bite marks and burns. His neck, covered before by a scarf, had the reminder of a failed suicide attempt. His arms were covered with self-inflicted wounds and his legs had the word ‘freak’ carved into them. There was hardly anywhere on his body besides his hands and face which was not covered in cuts, bruises and bite marks.
“I hope you enjoy pain, boy!” Vernon said as he hit Harry with the belt. He closed his eyes and exhaled. He was the child the world forgot to love.