Harry Potter Down Under

Harry Potter (1)

The closet smelled much worse than the poor eight year old. Blood drippings stained on the floor from the beatings from his family. There's a rather large stain on the ground of the closet from a beating from Dudley, Harry's cousin. There are no windows, and the only time the door is open is when Uncle Vernon either pulled Harry out or pushed him in. There was no escaping the closet once inside, seeing as there was no doorknob.

Currently, Harry was curled up in the small cot in his closet under the stairs. He held his wrist to himself as he struggled to keep the tears in. He was scolding himself. He knew better. He didn't want to be such a freak, but it isn't his fault. Maybe, if he's lucky, his family will let the accident go.

But we all know they will never let him live this down.

He wasn't allowed dinner that night, or the next morning. Or the next night, either. After Harry tried to take some of the leftovers from the garbage while the others were watching t.v in the next room, Dudley hit him in the back with a frying pan.

Harry didn't run away from the Dursleys. He didn't try to escape their abuse. Seven years of being told he was nothing, that he was a freak. Garbage. A waste of space. Harry had begun to believe it. He'd been told that he would never survive on the streets, and it was true. Harry was a kind child, no matter the abuse he had gone through.

Three days since Harry's accident with the...um, "silverware," the Dursleys decided to take a trip. A long drive in a cramped car with Harry being stuck with bags on his feet, but nothing could stop Harry's visible excitement. It was a trip to a city called Ebbott with a bay to swim in, arcades to play in, and a mountain to climb.

Harry had to stay in the hotel room most of the time, but he was okay with that. The t.v wasn't to be turned on, but the comfortable bed made up for it. On top of getting caught up with sleep during the day while the others were gone, he wasn't beaten. He wasn't starved. No pain came to him for four whole days. And, when the Dursleys said they were all going on a picnic and a hike together, Harry couldn't contain his excitement. For once in his life, Harry was being included. He thought perhaps they'd decided to let him be part of their little family.

But he was wrong, as usual. People like the Dursleys are cold, loving nobody different. They can't stand anything they don't understand. Aunt Petunia sometimes throws items from the trash at a blind man who used to walk down the street every Friday morning. Dudley, well, he's a bully. Dudley would often pick on any kid that showed kindness to Harry. And Uncle Vernon. Vernon is the worst out of those three, beating little Harry to a pulp then throwing the boy into the closet.

Many times Vernon's anger has led him to bring the young boy to near death. Like last week when Harry had dropped the bacon but it didn't hit the ground. Vernon had been furious at the freak ever since the boy had "uncontrollably" made every metal item in the kitchen raise off the counters then dropped them on the floor. Magic. Evil strangeness for evil freaks.

As the Dursleys packed the picnic, they told Harry to go explore. As Harry wondered out of the clearing on the mountain, they left. Before Harry could get in the car, they'd already begun driving down the road.

'Short cut.'

Harry ran after the car as quick as he could before running into the trees, hoping to cut them off. But he couldn't find his way out of the trees, so he kept running, hoping he didn't trip in near-dark. He couldn't even see the setting sun through the trees. He nearly tripped on a tree branch.

"It could be like the misty-eyed man's stick..." harry picked the stick up, tapping it side-to-side so that he could tell nothing was in the way. Then a howl echoed through the trees. Howl? There are no wolves in this area of England...

Nevertheless, Harry broke into a sprint, recognizing the sound from school. Harry didn't bother checking for anything with his stick. He didn't know about the uprooted tree because of it, nor did he know about the large hole beyond it...

______

The child is not like any you've ever seen. They could do anything they want. They could kill everyone beyond this flower bed, or they could save anyone. But no matter what they do, they can never save everyone. They can't. The child pulled at her blue and purple striped sweater as she thought. She dusted her jeans off as she stood and started to the exit, then froze as she heard something.

Something quiet. It was growing louder and louder until it finally hit the flowers. Something new laid there, silent tears slipping down his sunken cheeks. He gripped a branch like a staff, even in his unconsciousness. His gray shirt clung to his body, though it was many sizes too big for him. His shoes were red and worn, the laces fraying at the ends.

As they leaned over him, fascinated at the new thing, the boy opened his emerald eyes.

Hey, hope you all like it.