Heir to the Moon (V2)

I.III Punishing The Dursley's Part I

Sirens wailed through the air as a fleet of police cars raced down Privet Drive and screeched to a halt outside number 4. Officers swarmed out of the vehicles, surrounding the house with guns drawn, while a tactical team battered open the front door with a battering ram.

"Police with a warrant!" shouted the officer in charge.

The officers rushed in and fanned out to search for the suspect, Vernon Dursley. He was sprawled on the floor between two armchairs, trying to wriggle out of an open window - but he was quickly tased by an officer waiting outside. "Vernon Dursley! You are under arrest for abuse (child, physical, mental, emotional and psychological), false imprisonment, child negligence, starvation, child slavery, cruel and unusual punishments, torture, child endangerment, attempted second-hand child murder - of your nephew Harry James Potter."

Two officers grabbed Vernon and dragged him off to a police car while another officer stepped forward and saluted his superior.

"Sergeant Barnes," he said.

"Yes, Officer Bradock," replied Sergeant Barnes.

"You have to see this," said Officer Bradock.

The two officers stood in the Dursley's opulent living room, Petunia shaking nervously in her handcuffs. Officer Rogers lifted an eyebrow as he spoke to Sergeant Barnes. "It appears we can charge Mr. Dursley with bribery, fraud and tax evasion."

"That doesn't surprise me at all," Sergeant Barnes sneered, as Officer Bradock tightened his grip on Petunia's arm and guided them towards a door tucked away under the staircase. "We're already adding resisting arrest to the charges."

Sergeant Barnes' eyes narrowed as he approached the understair door. He had seen many crime scenes in his years of service, but what he had heard about the Dursleys was particularly disturbing. Officer Bradock pushed open the door, revealing a dim, cramped space, no larger than a broom closet.

"This," Officer Bradock began, gesturing inside, "is where they kept Harry Potter locked up. A boy, of only five years old."

Sergeant Barnes stepped closer to the entrance, a look of disbelief on his face. He peered inside, trying to make out details in the dim light. The walls were unadorned, save for a few faint scratches, perhaps made by desperate fingers. A thin, worn-out mattress lay on the floor, covered in stained sheets. There was no light source, only a small, barred window high up, allowing in minimal light.

Sergeant Barnes ran his fingers over the old and faded wallpaper, feeling the cold dampness of the walls. "I've seen some pretty dark things in my time, but this... this is something else."

"They treated him like an animal," murmured Sergeant Barnes.

Sergeant Barnes stepped closer to the entrance, a look of disbelief on his face. He peered inside, trying to make out details in the dim light. The walls were unadorned, save for a few faint scratches, perhaps made by desperate fingers. A thin, worn-out mattress lay on the floor, covered in stained sheets. There was no light source, only a small, barred window high up, allowing in minimal light.

"It's... it's like a prison cell," he whispered, feeling a chill run down his spine.

Officer Bradock nodded gravely. "There were padlocks on the outside. The boy wouldn't have been able to get out on his own."

Sergeant Barnes ran his fingers over the old and faded wallpaper, feeling the cold dampness of the walls. "I've seen some pretty dark things in my time, but this... this is something else."

Nearby, other officers were carefully collecting evidence - photographs of the confined space, fingerprints, and swabs. Officer Patel, one of the forensic experts, held up a tiny metal bowl. "Looks like this was his water dish. There's a rusty chain attached to it."