The Boy Who Never Lived

A very wet nigh-no no that sounds wrong

Harry had sat in the car for three very long days. The first night they had stayed at a hotel but the next morning fifteen letters for one Harry James Potter were brought to their room by the manager. They left immediately. The next day, Vernon stopped at a store and bought a large white package. He refused to say what was inside. The letters sprung out of the glove box causing Vernon to quickly throw Harry out of the open car window. Harry winced as his bum hit the cement and fresh blood spotted through his baggy jeans. Vernon quickly lit the papers on fire in the parking lot and they hurriedly left. That night as Dudley moaned about missing his tv and his video games and his friends, Vernon left the car to return hours later.
"Good news boys. Ive found lodgings for tonight. An old man I met down at the pub is letting us use his old light house!" He said chipperly.
"A house?" Aunt Petunia said happily "with a bed and a kitchen and- oh Vernon."
She placed a wet kiss on her husbands mouth. Harry stared in wonderment at the act. Had this been something his parents had done? Had the redheaded woman in his dreams kiss the man so sloppily? Was this what love looked like? Harry couldn't remember getting a kiss before. Was it nice? Would he like it? Do only girls kiss boys or can boys kiss the girls too? Do boys kiss boys? Do girls kiss girls? Does the kiss have to be on the mouth or can it be anywhere? Harry longed to ask Vernon these questions and stared out the window as they drove mentally preparing himself for the deathly task that lay ahead of them.
Soon they reached the sea and they all got out of the car. Petunia looked around confused.
"A seaside cottage? But... I don't see it. Are you sure we have the right place?"
"Of course! Don't you see it?" It being a dark spot spot on the horizon.
They all climbed into a small raft and of course Harry was ordered to row the boat towards this "house". Harry struggled to keep a grip on the rough wooden oars and with every weak push against the waves they were pulled back at least three feet. Harry groaned and cried against the salt water, his hands tearing and bleeding. The blood made the already moist wood slippery with the red lubricant and Harry couldnt keep his arms up. They were no where near the half way mark. Dudley began to whine loudky when thunder clapped above them.
"We are going to get wetttt" he cried "Dad make him go faster!"
Vernon of course looking for any way to punish the small boy for being so freakish obliged and cuffed Harry on the head.
"Faster boy" he commanded gruffly.
Harry, fearing punishment, pushed harder on the oars. His energy resolve was leaving him in an astounding amount of time. His body was weak and wounded and every stretch of his ribs left him gasping in shallow breaths. They finally made it to the cement docking under the house and the three durselys shuffled inside as fast as possible. Harry wearily crawled onto the platform and collapsed. He pulled himself into the creaky house and gasped for any breath to stay in his bruised lungs. Almost immediately he was pulled off the ground by Vernon.
"I expect this trash heap to be spotless in two hours" he spat, going over to his wife to reassure her that everything would be okay.
Harry whimpered softly and walked over to the fireplace to start a fire. He took the pail and scoop and cleaned out the old cinders, almost crying out in pain when the rust got into his open cuts. He quickly as possible, which wasnt very fast at all, filled the bucket with dead cinders. Unfortunately there was no wood in the wood pile. He groaned and stood up, lugging the heavy bucket with him and walked to his uncle.
"What boy?" Vernon spat.
"Th-there's no w-wood." Harry muttered.
"Use a chair!" Vernon barked "Dumbarse"
"Y-yes Uncle V-Vernon" Harry said continuing towards the door to dump the ash into the sea. He stood on the edge and stared at the water's depths. He wondered if he fell in would anyone save him? Would they notice? Would they cry? Harry looked back at the family inside the house. No. He decided. They would not. Harry rinsed the bucket out with the salt water and filled it up with the liquid. He limped back inside the house, securely latching the door in place as it had started to lightly rain. He put the pail on the kitchen stove and turned it on. There was a sputtering noise for a second and then the stove collapsed on the floor. Harry jumped and quickly turned off the appliance. He would figure out the water in a moment. Harry grabbed a chair from the wobbly table nearby and smashed it off the ground. It snapped easily and broke into several pieces. Harry sighed in relief as to how easily it broke and sent a silent thanks to... Well to someone.  He dragged the pieces across the floor and into the fire place before looking around for some matches. There was a moldy matchbox on the mantle but it held no matches inside. Vernon saw the boy looking around and threw his plastic lighter at the child's messy head. Harry winced and rubbed the spot.
"Th-thank you, Uncle Vernon." He mumbled, picking up the plastic object.
The fire started within secconds, sending out a warming glow around the room. It had only been ten minutes but to Harry it felt like hours. He stumbled to where the broken down stove stood and grabbed the pail of water to heat up over the flames. Luckily there was a pasta hook inside the fire place that allowed Harry to hang the bucket fairly easily. Harry could hear Dudley playing on his video game on the couch and his aunt and uncle talking quietly about the many letters.
"Vernon I hate it here. When can we go home?" Harry looked under the sink for soap.
"I know darling but the letters won't find us here" There was a bar of soap in the back.
"I hate those freaky... Ore should stay away from our live.... Lily's fault..." A cockroach crawled over the soap.
"I know my love but those freaks wont find.... Safe here..." Harry picked up the soap and tapped the bug off it.
"It's awful here!" Harry stood and walked back to the water which now was simmering lightly and pulled the hook away from the heat of the flames and threw the soap in the hot water. He looked around for a broom and spotted an ancient one in the corner. He picked it up and swept the dusty floors clean, sweeping the growing pile outside the door. His eyes were growing heavily and he tiredly ripped cloth from a shabby sheet in what would once have been a linens closet. Harry pulled the bucket down and put in the cloth. He walked over to the front door and dunked his hands into the hot liquid. The salt burned his wounds and woke him from his exhausted state. His blood mixed with the water tinting the small soap bubbles a light shape of pink. Thunder crashed outside and Harry jumped, splashing the cleansing water on himself. The liquid burned on his closed wounds. Harry began scrubbing the floor with the cloth his knuckles being ripped open on the rough flooring.

Harry had been lying on his stomach in pain for an hour as his fat cousin snored next to him. Harry drew a cake in the ashes in the hearth. Dudley's watch changed to midnight. Harry closed his eyes and sighed.
"Make a wish, Harry." He whispered softly to himself. 'I wish some one would come take me away'
He blew hard on the ash and a loud banging on the front door made him jump.