A Pitiful Prolog

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Pretty green eyes opened sleepily, then closed again, before snapping back open. Little Harry gasped in horror. Today was his fourth birthday, and, instead of the normal yelling of how he was an undeserving freak who didn't get presents, the Dursley's had done something different.

The day had started out wonderful, Harry was given extra food (instead of only one piece of toast, he got two), and was exempted from several chores. He even got a treat, the Dursley's were going to a nature persevere, and he was allowed to go, too.

Harry had giggled and bounced excitedly the whole way there, his inner child not yet beaten to death by maltreatment from his relatives. He had even chattered noisily to a sour faced Dudley for hours on end before they arrived.

The Dursley's had taken Harry quite a few miles in (very impressive for the whale like Vernon), before deciding to have a picnic. Harry had run around in the tall grasses unoticing that the plants began to look wilder, and wilder.

Later at a small clearing, the Dursley's sat down to east lunch. Harry was given a small sandwich, a real treat for a malnourished Harry, and a cup of juice with white pills stirred in, to the horror of Dudley Dursley, who promptly whined about how the freak was getting food that he wasn't.

As odd as this was, Harry, with the innocent naivety of any young child, didn't notice anything, but the fact that his family, whom he was supposed to trust, were giving him food. The last thing Harry heard before sleep claimed him was the angry voice of his uncle proclaiming, " Good riddance to the Freak."

That had been hours ago. Lunch was at noon, it was now pitch black out. Little Harry suddenly realized, he was very much alone...

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