It was well known that the Dursley family loathed magic and anything having to do with such freakish things. It was more than well known that Harry James Potter was a subject of their hatred for magic and it was, assumingely so, that they would do a...
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The Muggle Freak
Petunia Dursley née Evans was as normal as you could get with a family of her own while being a stay at home. No one would ever suspect that the simple woman who lived inside her home all day could be considered freaky, it was just absurd. However, no matter how normal Petunia thought herself to be, she knew that she came from a line of freaks who waved sticks in the air and shouted Latin words that made no sense. Even if she herself wasn't one of them, her sister, Lily was and even if she was thankful her son was normal, her nephew, Harry James Potter, was not. The woman had hardly visited her Sister and nephew and wanted it to remain that way, after all, there was no point to associate herself with such monsters. Yet, no matter how much she wanted to avoid her Sister and her kind forever, fate had other plans, completely different plans.
The day they received Harry Potter, Petunia's hatred for magic grew a little stronger. They took away her sister from her, they whisked her away to a school of freaks and then the very thing she was learning, killed her. Surely, she could feel anger towards the magical world and her nephew, it was their fault she had no Sister, their fault that all she had left of Lily Potter née Evans was a tattered photo album her parents had given her when she moved out. Every time she stared down at the Boy, all she could see was her eyes, Lily's bright green eyes that shone with so many emotions at once that Petunia felt her anger rise even more yet she kept it at bay, there was no reason to lash out violently, as long as Harry avoided her and did what he was told, everything was fine.
Unfortunately for her, Fate wanted to see how much it would take to snap her and frankly, it wasn't much at all. A year after Harry had arrived on her doorstep, Petunia had welcomed a new child into the Dursley family. The boy was smaller than his brother and cousin but had the looks of both Petunia and his grandmother, yet when he opened his eyes for the first time, they were a mix of emerald green and dark icy blue. The simple color had Petunia's anger rise more than before and as she settled her eyes upon Harry's small figure, she found herself choking back sobs. Why did it have to be her sister? Why did it have to leave her nephew alone? Why did it have to be her family?
Countless days had her questioning why it couldn't be some other poor soul, why it couldn't be some other magic folk and then she would have her sister here with her still, she wouldn't have to take care of her nephew, she wouldn't have to be staring into the eyes that haunted her mind every night. Instead, she was forced to care for the only thing her sister left her, she was left to watch her youngest son try and get along with such a freak that it made her stomach twist and turn. Petunia believed that fate was done trying to break her, she believed it was done with its torment but yet again, it struck her in the place she had least expected.
Her own son.
It had been a simple day out, nothing too big and nothing too small either yet it was all ruined by a man in tattered clothes who held a stick in his hand and spotted them walking to her car. At first, she wanted to try and avoid him, anything to get away from such a freak yet she didn't account that the freak was a wizard, that he could shout spells without needing to get close. The light was almost blinding but the painful screaming was enough to have her eyes snap back towards the young boy she was holding, twitching and coughing up foam as if he was dying.
That day, Petunia could argue that she was perfectly normal, she could argue that she was just trying to make sure her son was safe but anyone could see from a mile away that the woman had snapped, her control on her anger had broken into pieces and who better to take it out on than the young boy who was more freakish than his cousin under the stairs? All it took was the levitation of a red block before Petunia was already in action, convincing Vernon that Dorian had been ruined the moment he was born. It wasn't much but the woman had already started going down the deep end, spiraling into a chasm of pure rage.
Perhaps this was the reason that Dorian was now as thin as Harry was or the reason that the young boy was as weak as Harry was. Whatever it was, Petunia didn't care, all she cared about was stamping out the boy's magic that had surfaced, hoping that if he had no magic, he wouldn't be accepted and if he wasn't accepted, he couldn't die.
Each day was a simple routine. She would wake up before anyone else and creep her way towards the boy's room. There, she found him either awake from the previous night or still asleep from exhaustion. Either way, she started her work as quick as she had came. Fingers dragged across skin, her words were cruel, hissing into his ears as she pulled him to his feet and ventured down the stairs, not at all caring that the boy was stumbling like a newborn deer. She rummaged through drawers before finding the lighter that she had used the night before. Clicking it on, the woman beckoned her son closer, holding a hand against his mouth as she forced his head forward to stare at the flickering embers of the flame that was going so close to his skin.
Dorian could feel the heat that was being applied to his arm, he could feel his mother's sharp nails digging into his skin and dragging across his cheeks but the boy could only gasp, too exhausted to scream as much as he tried to do last night. He never questioned his mother's methods, he didn't find a need too, his mother just wanted to make sure he wasn't like Harry because if he was like Harry, he was going to die and he didn't want to die. Eventually, the heat was gone and his mother was pulling him up the stairs again, past the bedrooms and opening the bathroom door. He understood this part of the routine, drowning was common to try and stamp out his magic but he was always making the water rise into fog before it was completed, hopefully his mother managed to stamp out his magic before it happens again.
"Mommy loves you so much, so much."
He could feel the cold seeping into his skin, he could feel the cool metal of a blade pressed up against his back, he wondered if Harry went through this, the boy was always in his cupboard but Dorian figured that he was too afraid to come out and show himself, that maybe his mother had stamped out his cousin's magic which meant that the routine was going to work. He was beginning to feel his head swimming around, black spots edged across his vision but before he could do anything, he was pulled out of the freezing water, hair clinging to his face as his mother stood on her knees in front of him. She was mumbling but he couldn't quite hear nor could he understand but he figured that his mother was beginning to change up his routine, like usual.
It wasn't until he woke up to a strange man in his bedroom at nine years old that he realized something was off. It wasn't until he was being pushed down on the bed and could feel cold hands running up and down his body that he realized his mother was wrong. It wasn't until his body became sore all over, his mind in pieces and his emotions in turmoil that he realized this wasn't right.
A strange thing had occurred when he turned eleven. A letter had fallen through the fireplace and as his mother read it with fury deep in her eyes, Dorian felt the need to shrink away from her angered gaze. Then she screamed at him, shoving him out the door and into her car. He didn't know how long he had spent riding but when he woke up, he did notice he was in a strange hospital with a lady looming over his thin body in worry and a man with a long, white beard sitting beside him.
If that wasn't enough confusion, the man smiled at him and outstretched a hand with his eyes twinkling like stars as he stared into the mismatched ones of Dorian Dursley.
