The Dark Slytherin (Trilogy)

Ch 2- The Dursleys

The grand celebration was a distant memory as Hadrian Potter found himself standing on the doorstep of Number Four, Privet Drive. 

The house was neat and unremarkable, much like the neighborhood it resided in. It seemed to embody everything ordinary, a stark contrast to the magical world he had been part of. Clutching a small suitcase, Hadrian stood silently as his parents exchanged a few strained words with his aunt and uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley. Jules stood nearby, a look of curiosity on his face, but not enough to break the spell of his parents' decision. 

"Hadrian," Lily said softly, bending down to his level, her eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "This is for the best, dear. You'll have a chance to grow up like a normal boy. "Hadrian nodded numbly, his heart heavy with a sense of abandonment. He couldn't bring himself to speak, afraid that his voice might betray the tears he was holding back. With one last, reluctant glance, Lily and James turned and apparated, leaving Hadrian to face his new reality 

.As soon as the Potters were gone, Vernon's demeanor changed. He scowled down at Hadrian, his eyes filled with disdain. "Get inside, boy. And don't think you'll get any special treatment here. "The Dursley household was cold and unwelcoming. Petunia's eyes flickered with a mix of hatred and jealousy as she looked at Hadrian, a reminder of the sister she had always resented. Dudley, their spoiled son, eyed Hadrian with a malicious gleam, sensing a new target for his bullying. 

The days turned into weeks, and Hadrian's life became a monotonous cycle of chores, abuse, and neglect. 

Petunia made sure he was up before dawn, scrubbing floors, washing dishes, and doing laundry. Any minor mistake would earn him a sharp slap or a scolding that left him feeling worthless.

 Vernon was even worse. He would come home from work, his face red with anger, and any small inconvenience would set him off. Hadrian quickly learned to stay out of his way, but it didn't always save him from Vernon's heavy hand. The beatings were frequent and severe, leaving Hadrian with bruises that took weeks to heal. 

Dudley, on the other hand, took pleasure in tormenting Hadrian. He would push him around, steal his food, and make sure to blame him for anything that went wrong.

 Hadrian's meals were sparse, often just scraps left over after the Dursleys had eaten their fill. He grew thin and pale, his clothes hanging off his frail frame. 

One particularly harsh winter day, Petunia sent Hadrian out to weed the garden in the freezing cold. His fingers turned numb as he worked, the icy wind cutting through his thin clothes. When he finally finished and came inside, shivering and exhausted, Petunia's only response was to order him to clean the entire kitchen.

 Late at night, when everyone else was asleep, Hadrian would lie awake on his thin mattress in the cupboard under the stairs, the small space barely enough for him to stretch out. The darkness was his only comfort, where he could let the tears fall without fear of being seen. He often wondered if his parents missed him, or if Jules ever thought about him.

 The letters they had promised never came, and he felt more alone than ever.

 Despite the harsh treatment, Hadrian found small ways to cope. 

He discovered that he could talk to animals, and sometimes, when the Dursleys weren't around, he would whisper his troubles to a stray cat that frequented the garden. The cat would purr and nuzzle him, offering a brief moment of solace in his otherwise bleak existence.

 The days turned into months, and Hadrian's hope began to fade. He learned to be invisible, to blend into the background and avoid drawing attention to himself. The years of neglect and abuse took their toll, but deep inside, a small spark of resilience remained. 

One night, Vernon returned home dead drunk, he trudged over and didn't even turn on the lights, he then proceeded to vomit all over the floor. He mumbled "Boy, come here and clean this up right now, or you get the leather today." Hadrian meekly came and started to wipe the floor, the stench of the beer-mingled vomit was terrible and he could barely control his own stomach. Vernon started to walk to his bedroom when he slipped on the floor and fell flat on his face. "You dodgy little brat, you have ruined my most expensive coat." He roared. Being drunk and out of his senses, Vernon Dursley had lost all sense of logic and coherent movement. He stood up with the support of the staircase railing and grabbed the little and innocent Hadrian by the scruff of his corner and banged him against the wall, as if that wasn't enough to quell his bloodthirst, Vernon cracked the door open and started to carry the silently sobbing Harry through the silent neighborhood to the deserted alley where he quite literally threw Harry down in a most horrible manner, kicked him a few times in his drunk rage and then left off in a huff, not bothered in the least of what might befall Harry Potter. 

Meanwhile, Harry's twin, Julian was living a life of luxury, guarded by the comforts of a grand house, the love of his parents and the admiration of Britain. Not even one of the Potters even thought that while they were indulging in the pleasures of their life, their other forgotten son Hadrian Potter was being constantly abused and mistreated by the Dursleys. 

So it was at this point of time when Hadrian Potter, the scion and future head of House Potter, was quite literally left off for the dead.