- Unknown Location -
A moment of bliss, as if having just woken up from a long, restful sleep.
Feeling nothing but an overwhelming sense of peace, our young hero slowly began dragging himself up into a seated position, sparing nothing more than passing confused thought over when he had fallen asleep.
Taking a moment to rub the sleep from his eyes, he couldn't help but revel in the wondrous sleep he had woken from. Blinking as his vision settled, he looked around at his surroundings as his brain slowly began processing what was there.
Freezing in place, his eyes flew wide as his brain struggled to comprehend the sight.
'…What?'
Refusing to believe it; he quickly closed his eyes and began aggressively rubbing his palms into them. A desperate attempt to clear away what must have been a trick of the light, refusing to acknowledge what he saw as anything other than a figment of his imagination.
Fearfully opening his eyes, fear and desperation settled into full-blown panic as he gazed in utter bafflement.
'That's not possible.' He internally protested.
Unfortunately, as much as he tried to deny it, what his eyes were seeing was very much possible.
For what lied around him, as far as the eye could see, lied an endless galaxy spanning across every direction. A black void, decorated with the bright lights of countless distant stars, and the fluorescent glow of multi-colored nebulae painting a breathtaking canvas of silent beauty.
Looking down at what he was standing on, all he could see was more of the galaxy. To the outside observer, it was as if he stood floating in mid-air, and yet his feet felt like they were standing on solid ground.
Feeling panic start to set in, he tried unsuccessfully to comprehend the impossibility of it all. 'What the…Where am I?'
"You are in the Void."
- The Void -
Startled, he quickly spun around in the direction where the voice came from. The unprepared movement, combined with his panic at the new surroundings, caused him to trip and fall.
Landing on his back, he grimaced at the rough impact. The fleeting thought of how he could land on what was essentially thin air crossing his mind before ultimately being pushed aside to focus on more important things, like who had just spoken. Taking a second to let the pain fade, he glanced over to where the voice came from.
Standing perfectly still, as if having been there the entire time, was a hooded figure dressed in floor-length black robes bearing a wide hood that hid all but the lower half of their face.
Creeped out by their silence, he slowly got up as the figure watched on silently. The hero couldn't help the blood rushing to his face as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment at someone having caught his fall, made even worse as he noticed the hooded figure's full lips, painted black with lipstick and set in an amused smile.
Feeling his blush start to fade, he tried to peer deeper into the shadows of the hood, hoping to meet the figure's eyes. Unfortunately, the hood performed its task all too well, and nothing but shadows could be seen.
Giving up his searching, he momentarily cleared his throat before speaking up. "Um…Hello."
"Hello, young hero." The figure replied, a slight tilt of the wide hood the only indication that it had bowed its head in greeting.
As the figure's voice filtered in through his ears, it was with a start that he realized the voice was that of a woman's. Her tone surprisingly soft and comforting, like that of a dear friend, and does wonders to sooth his panic.
Gazing at the newly identified woman, he wondered how he missed that fact, finally noticing the subtle curves hidden beneath her robes. His bafflement gave his brain enough time to process what the woman had said.
Blinking, he stops roaming over the woman's robed body to stare at the shadowed face; his confusion clear as day as he asks, "Sorry…but, what do you mean by that? Why did you just call me a hero?"
Tilting her head, the woman stared silently from under her hood for several moments. Once again speaking in that soft, comforting tone she replied, "That is what you are…a hero, about to take the first steps on his journey."
Strangely, but he can't help feeling that her gaze had become even more intense at that statement.
"What do you mean, my journey? …I'm sorry, I'm not sure what's going on, or how I got here, but I think you have the wrong guy…" He pleaded, afraid that the woman in front of him was not all there in the head. "I'm not a hero."
Seemingly ignoring his words, the hooded figure stepped closer to him, pausing once she was within arm's reach. Momentarily, he's surprised to find that she's the same height as he is. "Do you recall your name?"
Staring at her, confused as to why she would ask such an obvious question, he replied. "Of course I do!"
Opening his mouth, his voice hitches as no answer comes to mind, "I-I'm…"
His voice softly trails off, failing to recall what his name is. The realization bringing with it a feeling of ice filling his veins as his panic rears its head again, his tone turning desperate. "I…I don't remember. Why can't I remember my name?"
The woman sees the hero's growing panic, and brings her right hand up to caress his face, drawing attention to her incredibly pale skin as her soft hand cups his cheek with a gentle touch. The show of intimacy stills the panic beginning to cloud his thoughts. "You do not remember…because you gave it up."
Not expecting that response, the casual statement does more to clear away his panic than any assurances she could have given.
"What do you mean, I gave it up?" He asked, his brow crinkling in confusion.
Silently, she brings her left hand up to join in cupping his face. Upon making contact with his skin, his mind is flooded with flashes of memories as she continues to speak.
"You were born the youngest child of a family of three…You had a father, a mother, and an elder sister."
In an instant, flashes of a smiling family appear in front of his eyes.
- Memory -
A tall, bearded man with greying-brown hair in a tailored suit. At his side, an equally tall, gorgeous woman with vibrant red hair done in a braid, clad in an elegant, form-fitting dress.
Between the two stands a shorter, pretty young girl with equally vibrant red hair, dressed in a smaller child's version of the woman's own clothing.
The three of them stand close together with bright, happy smiles on their faces. The sight conjuring up the feeling of a truly happy, loving family.
- End of Memory -
"Unlike the rest of your family, you were born sick...An incurable illness that forced you to spend your days trapped in bed. Never getting the chance to experience life outside your bedroom walls." She continues, not even acknowledging his shock at the sudden memory appearing is his head.
Before he had a chance to shake off the last memory, flashes of an empty room replace the family's image in front of his eyes.
- Memory -
A spacious bedroom with a large window looking out over a beautiful backyard on one side, and a single wood door leading to a hallway on the other.
In the center, a child's bed surrounded in medical equipment.
- End of Memory -
"When you were eight, your parents gave you your first storybook…"
- Memory -
The blurry image of a child's book appears.
- End of Memory -
"That first storybook, told the tale of a young hero. A boy, who suffered much on his journey, ultimately proved to be a worthy hero." As she continues to speak, the blurred title on the book becomes clear.
Harry Potter
"That story, inspired in you a desire to read other tales about similar heroes, your mind diving into their pages as you lived out their lives."
- Memory -
Flashes of hundreds of books, all of them filling multiple bookshelves that now line the bedroom until the walls can't be seen.
- End of Memory -
"And soon, a desire in you began to take shape… The desire, to rise above your illness, and become a hero like those you read about in the stories." It was here that a grin stretched across her black lips, the first real sign of emotion from the other otherwise expressionless woman.
"By the time of your eighteenth birthday, your illness had finally run its course…In your last days, you asked that your organs be donated to those suffering, in the hopes that it might save lives."
As the last word leaves her lips, a new memory appears before a scene began to play.
- Memory -
The family of three gathers around a hospital bed, crying as the young boy laying in it smiles brightly at them.
His vibrant and energetic smile in complete contrast with his weak and frail body. His words, unheard in the memory, draws laughter from the family before he's embraced in a group hug.
- End of Memory -
In an instant, the flashes stop as the memories fade. Panting from the onrush of emotion and the pounding in his head from the sudden influx of memories, he feels the woman hands still cupping his face, and for some reason has no desire to ask her to remove them. Their presence a balm against the surge of emotions he was trying to quell.
"Your selflessness, and desire to help others even in the face of death was an act worthy of any hero." She spoke up after his breathing had calmed down. "And for that, you were given a choice...To continue on to the afterlife, and await your family…or to give up your name, and be given the chance to live a new life, and eventually become a hero like those in your storybooks."
It's here that the bottom half of her face, still the only visible part, blooms into a radiant smile. "You didn't even hesitate…Your wish to become a hero, and the idea that there were others who could use your help, meant you were more than willing to give up your name and memories in return for the chance."
The happiness in her voice, and the admittedly attractive smile elicited a feeling of embarrassed pride, causing the hero's cheeks to warm. While he was proud of what he had done, it was embarrassing to have someone not only point them out, but to also compliment him on his actions.
Watching his reaction, she giggled softly before leaning forward to kiss his forehead.
Shocked at the surprising move, he sputtered out, "W-What was that for?"
Leaning back, she rubbed her thumbs over his now burning cheeks comfortingly. "That…was for all the struggles you suffered, the lonely years spent confined in your bed, and yet still retaining your pure soul."
Her smile turned seductive as her thumbs ceased their rubbing in order to firmly grip his face. "And this…is for being who you are." Without warning, she leaned in once again for a kiss. Only this time, her target was lower than his forehead.
'Mmph!' The hero's eyes widened in shock as he felt her soft lips impact his own.
Her lips caressed his softly, gently guiding him through the unfamiliar movements as the taste of her lips caused him to groan in pleasure. His eyes slowly drifted shut as he basked in the moment.
After some subtle encouraging on her part, he decided to try something new.
Bringing his arms up from where they lay limply at his sides, he wrapped them around the woman's waist to gently pull her against him. In response, she released her grip on his face and brought her own arms up to wrap around his neck, the movement finally knocking back her hood and unknowingly revealing her face for the first time as the kiss deepened.
For what felt like an age, the two spared no thought for anything else except the feeling of the other's lips and the sensation of their clothed bodies rubbing together.
Reluctantly, she pulled back from the kiss as they both started breathing heavily, small smiles on their swollen lips as they stared at each other. It took a moment for him to realize that her hood was down, and that he was seeing her face for the first time.
And her beauty stunned him…
Pitch black locks flowing down on both sides of a pale face, neatly framing a pair of thin eyebrows that rested atop eyes whose color was as dark as the Void; and seemed to be staring straight into his very soul. Noticing how expressive they were, he almost lost himself in their depths.
Making a physical effort to pull his gaze away from her eyes, he took the chance to glance down her thin, cute nose before coming to rest on her smiling, plump black lips. Their swelling a reminder of the intimate moment they just shared together.
Stunned at her beauty, and still reeling from kiss they shared, the hero's mouth opened on its own to reveal an embarrassing secret to her.
"I-I've…never actually kissed a girl before." He whispered softly, embarrassed at his lack of experience.
Instead of teasing him, her smile grew wider, revealing perfect white teeth that were a sharp contrast against her black lipstick. Giggling softly she replied, "I know…and I'm glad that I got to be your first."
Running her hand through his hair, she smiled as she took in his flushed features. At this point, he wasn't even sure if his blush was from the kiss, the embarrassment, or from how she was looking at him…and frankly, he couldn't care less; choosing instead to enjoy being on the receiving end of this gorgeous woman's affections.
After a long moment she continued, "I must admit…I had no idea if you would take my offer. The chance to live happily in the afterlife would have drawn most to choose that path…Not everyone is willing to take on the unknown just for the possibility of helping others, with no guarantee of happiness."
Pausing, her expressive black eyes drew him in as she took in his features. "You impressed me…and that is not an easy thing to do." The way she said it sounded to him like it was actually the first time that anyone had done so.
His face slowly stretched into a grin as he took a risk and pulled her against him, this time bringing her into a hug as he rested his cheek against her shoulder. "Thank you, it means a lot to hear that…"
Saying nothing, she rested her chin on his shoulder as she hugged back, her smile softening as she closed her eyes.
All too soon, the moment ended and they both let go of each other. With a start, he realized something that he hadn't asked yet. "I'm sorry! Here we are going through all of this, and I don't even know your name." He chuckled as his cheeks flushed, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his head.
Smirking, the woman took a step back before reaching behind to bring her hood back up. Once it in place, dramatically casting the top half of her face in shadows, she replied. "I wondered when you would get around to asking me that..."
"My name…is Death."
Blinking, the hero can't help but wonder if he misheard her. "I'm sorry, did you just say your name is…Death?" The obvious incredulity clear in his tone.
Death's smirk grew larger, as if finding his disbelief incredibly amusing. "I did."
Standing there stunned, his cast his thoughts back to everything he'd learned, before once again looking around at the impossible galaxy all around them. The obvious denial dying on his tongue as the impossibility of everything that had happened finally clicked with him.
"Oh."
Soft laughter escaped her black lips as the black orbs hidden underneath the hood twinkled merrily. "Yes, 'Oh' indeed."
Before he got the wrong idea, she quickly spoke up to settle any concerns he might have. "Do not worry yourself Hero…you have nothing to fear from me. Many believe me some horrible creature, desiring nothing more than to take their lives and steal them away from their loved ones…All out of some cruel desire to bring about suffering."
Her tone was a mixture of anger and sadness. For all that she had seen, she simply couldn't understand why they blamed her for doing her job. "What they do not realize, is that all things must end. Every story must come to a close."
"Not out of cruelty, but kindness… For when a story does not end, it's shine is lost, becoming dull and lifeless…and eventually, forgotten. Abandoned."
Feeling his mouth begin to close, having opened in preparation to voice his disagreement, he realized that he couldn't think of anything to truly counter her words. Seeing her knowing smile, he wondered if she had expected that exact reaction.
Waiting a moment to see if she had more to say, he spoke up. "So, what happens now?"
Spreading her arms out, as if making a grand reveal, Death replied. "Now, you choose where your new story begins." Seeing the look of confusion, she elaborated. "It is as I said, you must now choose where your story begins. There are countless stories out there, waiting to be told. You just need to choose one, and you'll begin the first step of your journey."
As he went over the stories he remembered reading, his mind continues to drift back to earlier, when Death gave him back flashes of his old memories.
One memory in particular stood out above the rest. The first storybook he was ever given, and the story that inspired him to want to become a hero in the first place.
Harry Potter
Decision clear, he straightened up, staring into the shadows where he now knows her captivating black orbs hid. Death stood silent as she stared back, as if already knowing what his choice was, but waiting to hear him say it nonetheless.
"I choose Harry Potter."
The determination resounding in his voice surprised himself.
"So be it." Death spoke with an air of finality, and it's then that he came to the realization that there would likely be no turning back. "Your choice has been made…You will experience the hero's life as your own. From the moment you arrive in your new body, your choices are yours to make…as are the consequences." She warned, getting a nod in reply before continuing.
"Remember this… your choices will impact the outcome of the story. Do not expect things to always plan out how you think they will."
That made all too much sense. While he had read the story of Harry Potter from cover to cover, that didn't necessarily mean he wanted to just follow in the main character's footsteps. Some of the things Harry did in the story bothered him, but if he's going to try doing things differently, then it stood to reason that the story would change along with it.
"Is there anything I should know beforehand?" He asked, wanting to make sure there were no hidden surprises waiting in store.
"You will be sent to the beginning of the story; at the moment of his awakening. There, you will have the choice to follow the story, or go your own path… As events unfold, I will appear from time to time, and provide you with tasks that I'll ask you to complete for me." She revealed.
So, he wasn't going to be alone the entire time? Part of him was glad to know that she wasn't just dumping him somewhere and then forgetting about him, but the obvious understatement that she'd be watching as he went about his life was a little nerve-wracking.
"One task in particular I'm certain you can guess…" Death paused, waiting for him to figure out what she meant.
It took him a moment, but truthfully there's one thing that stands out the most from what he could remember. "You mean Voldemort."
Pleased, Death nodded in confirmation, "Yes. His attempts to escape me through the creation of his soul fragments, these…Horcruxes…is something that I cannot abide by. No mortal can truly escape Death, and his attempts to do so are an insult. Therefore Hero, I give you your first task."
"Find Voldemort's Horcruxes." She ordered, "When they are in your possession, simply call out my name, and I will appear before you. I will take the soul fragments into the afterlife, and leave you with the items to do with as you will."
At her words, a bit of weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew that dealing with the Horcruxes would have been a daunting task on his own without Basilisk venom and the Sword of Gryffindor, and trying to get both of those required him having to do some incredibly dangerous plans.
"Know that I will be watching, and shall only come at your calling when one is in your possession. Do this for me, and for each soul fragment I take, I will grant you a gift."
Now that's nice to hear. "What kind of gifts?" He asked eagerly.
In response, Death stepped forward into his personal space again, bringing her hand up to caress his cheek, the action almost familiar now. "Ones that will help you on your journey… The more difficult the task, the greater the rewards I'll give you. Though I cannot simply give you power, I can at least give you things that will offer assistance."
Her tone has a hint of a caution as she continues. "Be warned…do not try to complete more than you are capable of undertaking in the hopes of receiving my gifts quicker." A small amount of affection colors her cautionary tone, "I do not wish to see you suffer or fail in your journey out of a desire to please me."
Surprised, and inwardly pleased to hear that this gorgeous woman cared enough about him that she's warning to be cautious, caused his heart to beat a little faster. In lack of an adequate response, he decided to take the chance to lean in and place a light kiss on her lips.
The kiss is soft and short, lacking the passion of the previous one, but carrying with it a sense of heartfelt gratitude at her worry. Pulling back, he couldn't help smiling at the faint blush dusting Death's pale cheeks. 'She looks cute when she blushes.'
Clearing his throat and trying not to focus on the taste of her lingering on his lips, he replied. "Don't worry, I'll be careful. I wouldn't want to upset you after everything you've done for me."
And isn't that an understatement. She gave him a second chance at life, the opportunity to be a hero in his favorite story, and was even going to offer assistance along the way. What more could someone ask for?
Seeing that he was taking her warning seriously, she gave a pleased nod. "Good, but remember this… As you complete your journey, do not focus so much on your quest that you forget to live. Have some fun, make new friends, even fall in love."
"Enjoy this second chance at life and live it to the fullest." As she finished speaking, Death waved her hand to her left as a chilling black energy coated it, effortlessly creating a tear out of thin air. Without a sound, the tear splits wide open, creating a black portal.
Taking a second to get one last look at the endless galaxy that bad up the Void around him, the hero stepped resolutely over to the portal. Looking to the side, he does his best to commit as much of Death's appearance to memory as he can, unsure how long it will be before he sees her again.
Giving her one last smile, he stepped into the portal. Just before crossing the portal's boundary, he hears Death give one last farewell.
"See you soon, Hero."
- 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey -
Unlike when he woke up in the Void, there was no feeling of bliss or having had a restful sleep. Quite the opposite, he woke up to the feeling of his head pounding and his back sore from what must have been the worst sleep of his life.
Groggily pulling himself up into a seated position, he slowly took in his new surroundings.
The first thing he noticed is that wherever he is, it's incredibly cramped. The ceiling hung low enough that he could touch it simply by raising his hand up without even needing to get out of bed.
The second, is that the pounding he thought was in his head, was actually the sound of someone's fist knocking loudly and repeatedly on the small door next to the bed. Mercifully, the pounding stopped after a few words were shouted.
Unfortunately for whoever was shouting, his brain was still waking up and had missed everything they said. It's a slow few moments before he's able to recall what happened, and where he is now. Memories of the time in the Void, the conversations with Death, and the kisses they shared flood his mind.
The memories of the kisses in particular bring a familiar heat to his face as he sat there in disbelief. 'I can't believe that all of that actually happened.'
And yet, the undeniable proof of it is right in front of his face. Or to be more specific, on his face.
For he was now in the body of one Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.
That realization acted as some sort of signal for his brain to be bombarded with memories of Harry's life up to the moment of his arrival. Flashes of a terrible childhood that no-one should have ever suffered cross his mind's eye as feelings of attachment for a second set of parents that Harry never got to know struggle against the emotions he felt for his past life's family.
To add onto the already overwhelming sensation, the pounding from earlier starts up again. Only this time instead of the door, it comes from above him as someone jumps up and down; raining dust down onto the cramped room like falling snow.
Trying to ignore it as best he could, 'Harry' focused on trying to recall everything he remembered from the Harry Potter series.
'If I'm not wrong, this is the day when Harry…or…I guess 'Me', unknowingly finds out he's a Parseltongue, and winds up in trouble after doing a bit of Accidental Magic at the zoo.'
His ruminations are rudely interrupted when he hears the person jumping above start shouting. "WAKE UP Potter! We're going to the zoo!" The shout is followed by a stampede of loud stomping as the person rushes down the flight of stairs.
Unable to put it off any longer, Harry slowly got out of bed and opened the small door of his 'bedroom'.
Pausing to look back, he was disgusted to see it truly was nothing more than a cupboard under the stairs, and that the 'bed' he had slept on was in fact just a cot.
Staring at the crampet space, he barely has time to react before a large boy appears at the bottom of the staircase, his large red face and labored breathing testament to a poor diet and lack of exercise.
Panting, the large boy roughly shoves Harry back onto his small cot before quickly slamming the door shut as his loud footsteps die down as he heads into the other room. Momentarily stunned, Harry hears through the door a woman's voice call out at the arrival. "Oh, here he comes! The Birthday Boy!"
'I forgot about that.' Harry groaned, his head slumping down on the cot. Even with the memories, it's still a shock that the Dursleys could act so remorselessly in their treatment of someone who is considered 'family'.
The few memories he had of his previous life showed that, for all of the struggles his illness put on his old family, they still loved him wholeheartedly.
The differences between the Dursleys and his old family bring to mind a quote from one of his storybooks. 'To judge a person's true character, look not at how they treat those above them, but at how they treat those below them.'
For all of the Dursleys belief in 'normality' and the idea that they are good, decent folk…the way they treat Harry proves otherwise. 'Sigh…No point in sitting here getting philosophical…Time to face the music.' His attempt at levity falls flat in the face of his new circumstance.
Reluctantly getting up out of his cot, Harry stepped out of the small cupboard and made his way into the kitchen, already dreading how this day was going to go.
- Kitchen -
Inside the spotless kitchen of 4 Privet Drive, a family of three could be seen joyously celebrating the birthday of the youngest among them.
The happiness on Vernon and Petunia's faces outshone by the joy of their only son Dudley as they smothered him in hugs and congratulations. The feeling of joy and celebration in the kitchen would put a smile on anyone who happened to witness the happy family.
With the sound of the kitchen door opening, that feeling of cheer that had filled the room quickly turned muted, caused by the mere presence of the fourth member of the household.
Walking through the door was a small, messy black-haired child. Dressed in oversized clothes that practically draped over his much too thin frame. On his face sat a pair of damaged round glasses, slightly crooked on his nose from all of the tape used to hold it together.
All together painting a picture of what most would mistake as an orphaned, homeless child.
Unfortunately, Harry's appearance was not by accident… To try and reinforce the idea that he was lesser than the Dursleys, and that he should be grateful for everything they give him, they ensured that the only things he had to wear were Dudley's old, worn clothes that were far too big for his frame.
Despite all of their emotional abuse, it was a small mercy that the Dursleys had never been physically abusive to Harry.
The only times they had ever physically harmed him had been when Vernon smacked Harry on the back of the head hard enough to send him to the floor after he accidentally broke a plate, and when Petunia hit him over the head with an iron skillet after he nearly set the kitchen on fire -by accident, of course- the first time he had been forced to cook for them.
Momentarily, he couldn't help but reflect on the previous Harry's suffering, 'For all of the horrible things he was forced to go through, it's a wonder that Harry had turned out as good of a person as he did.' Granted, he made a lot of dumb choices that nearly got him killed every year, but from what he could recall Harry had turned out to be a decent man by the end of the storybooks.
Thankfully, this new Harry had access to memories of a happier life with a much better family to think back on. If not for that, he worried that the Dursley's treatment might have been the spark to lead him down the path of a future Dark Lord.
His ruminations were rudely cut short by the shrill voice of his aunt.
"Why don't you just cook the breakfast, and try not to burn anything." The annoyance in her voice was easily matched by the looks of the other two who glared at him for daring to ruin their happy moment. As Harry slowly shuffles his way past them to the stove, Petunia's abnormally long neck twisted to follow him as she waited for his reply.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia." The response came subconsciously as Harry's body moved about the kitchen with practiced movements brought on by muscle memory.
'It's a good thing too, because I have no idea what I'm doing.' Because of his illness, Harry had never needed to cook in his past life. His frail body had been too weak to move around the kitchen or even lift the pans and utensils.
In no time at all, Harry found himself plating the food and placing them onto the kitchen table. Despite the remarkably fast cooking, it seemed that he was still moving far too slow for his uncle's liking. "Hurry up! Bring my coffee, boy." The massive man barked out.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Again, the response coming automatically as Harry quickly moved to grab the coffee.
On the other side of the kitchen, Petunia and Dudley walk towards the living room where a mountain of presents could be seen piled high enough that it was difficult to see the floor underneath the wrapping paper.
The obnoxious voice of his 'cousin' piped up from the living room, "How many are there?" The spoilt tone proving just how pampered his upbringing had been.
As Harry quietly poured his uncle a fresh cup of coffee, he listened as Vernon spoke up in a pleased tone. "Thirty-Six! Counted them myself."
At the number, instead of being happy, Dudley's face burned red in anger as he bellowed, "Thirty-Six! But last year I had Thirty-Seven!" His sudden anger caused Vernon and Petunia's faces to pale as the large boy stomped his foot.
The disgust on Harry's face at Dudley's spoilt tone thankfully went unnoticed as Vernon struggled to come up with a response that would calm Dudley down. "W-Well yes, but some of them are quite a bit bigger than last year."
Unfortunately for Vernon, Dudley's anger was backed by a lifetime of spoilt upbringing. And that meant he wasn't so easy to calm. "I don't care how big they are!" He roared, glaring at his father for daring to talk back to him.
Petunia, always eager to make her spoilt son happy, quickly rushed to kneel in front of him as he turned his attention onto her. Stuttering as she thought of a way to fix it, she spoke up. "N-Now, this is what we're going to do…When we go out, we're going to buy you two new presents! How's that Pumpkin?"
Dudley's face scrunched up in thought as his mind tried to comprehend what that would mean, "So that would mean I'd have, th-thirty…um. Thirtyyy-"
"Thirty-Eight, sweetums." Encouraged Petunia with a smile, relieved to see Dudley start to calm down.
Dudley's eyes widen, "That's more than Thirty-Seven!" He cheered, congratulating himself on figuring it out.
His cheer worked wonders in settling the mood of the house as Vernon chuckled at Dudley's actions. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father!" Reaching a large, meaty hand across the table, Vernon ruffled Dudley's hair proudly. The thought of pushing his son for his behavior never even crossing his mind.
The three Dursleys settled down after that to eat breakfast while making comments on their preparations for the trip to the zoo. Dudley's desperate attempts at convincing his parents to not take Harry with them fell on deaf ears. "But I don't want him to come! He spoils everything!" He whined, kicking Harry's leg as he walked around the table adding more food onto their plates.
As much as they all wished to leave Harry behind, there was simply no one in the neighborhood available to watch him. The neighbor that usually did, an elderly woman with far too many cats and a tendency to rattle on all day about them, Mrs. Figg, had recently broken her leg and was too busy resting to watch over him properly.
The thought of leaving Harry alone in their house an idea too horrifying to utter. Their minds conjuring up ridiculous scenarios of him burning the place to the ground.
As the family continued to voice their disappointment at Harry's presence over breakfast, Harry silently continued acting as their servant, refilling drinks and bringing them more food from the stove. A daunting and laborious task as Vernon and Dudley's massive size proved testament to their ability to consume an outright absurd amount of food.
Mercifully, Dudley's excitement over the zoo meant that the three finished their breakfast quickly; leaving the kitchen in a rush to get ready for their trip as Harry quickly rushed to put their plates in the sink that he'd have to wash later.
Taking the chance, he silently sat down at the now empty kitchen table to eat his small portion of food; nothing more than a piece of toast and an egg as that was the most the Dursleys allowed him to have.
Once he's finished with his meager breakfast, Harry quickly returned to his cupboard and changed into a set of Dudley's massive old clothes. His stretched, baggy shirt thankfully able to be tucked into a pair of oversized pants that are held up by a worn belt with a few extra holes hand-made to fit his much smaller waist.
To try and cover the clothes as best he could, Harry grabbed a dark flannel shirt that was not as ridiculously oversized and would hopefully not draw attention to himself. If there was one thing he had learned from the memories of Harry, it was that any attention on him always drew the Dursley's ire.
Hearing the large family trample down the stairs, each step creaking under their weight, Harry rushed to try and smooth out his messy raven-black hair before racing out the cupboard after them.
As Petunia and Dudley climbed into the painstakingly clean car -a chore that Harry has to do once a week, ever week- Vernon shut the open car door to the backseat before Harry could get in.
Getting in Harry's face, Vernon's massive size cast a wide shadow over his much smaller frame as he got close enough for Harry to feel his revolting labored breath wafting over his skin.
Trying to subtly lean away from the larger man, Vernon ignored the movement as he poked Harry roughly in the chest, "I'm warning you now boy…" He growled out, using 'boy' as he struggled to keep from calling Harry 'freak' since they were now outside, fearful of any neighbors that might be overhearing the conversation.
"Any…funny business, any at all…and you won't have any meals, for a week." What he meant by 'funny business' goes unsaid, but the message clear. If anything strange happened that could possibly be considered magic, Harry was going to be blamed for it no matter how he might protest.
His threat made, Vernon pointed a massive, sausage-like finger towards the car and demanded, "Get in."
- Time Skip: 1 Hour Later -
As Vernon parked the car and the four of them got out, Harry couldn't help thinking back to the threat made by his 'Uncle'.
'Threatening to starve a helpless child in order to get your way...What kind of person thinks like that?' It's one thing to read in storybooks about how cruel some people can be, but seeing and experiencing it first hand was something else entirely.
His thoughts on the subject trailed off as they entered the zoo.
For the next several hours, the Dursleys explored the Zoo happily with Harry following several feet behind. He chose to play it safe and keep as much distance between them as possible, so as to not incur any more threats.
It wasn't until they reach the reptile section of the zoo that Harry's focus was brought back to the present, having let his mind wander as he followed his 'family' toward the building marked Reptile Habitat.
'Best keep quiet and not do anything that can get noticed,' He mused. 'The last thing I was is to make a whole glass pane disappear and release a massive snake.' As humorous as the thought was, it would not bode well for his survival. 'I need to try and stay far away from the snakes.'
…
Unfortunately, once he entered the building it became very clear that such a thing was easier said than done.
The reason being?
His Parseltongue ability was picking up the voices of every snake near him. And as the Dursleys walked up to each enclosure, loudly pounding on the glass panes to try and force the snakes to move, the snakes' voices become harder to ignore as they get louder in their complaints.
"~Ssstupid humansss. Asss if thisss one would lisssten to it.~"
"~Sssilence! Thisss one isss trying to sssleep.~"
"~Sssstop it'sss pounding, Fat Human!~"
The constant hissing of the snakes' complaining, combined with the general ruckus of all of the people walking around, mixed in with the obnoxious shouting from the Dursleys caused a massive headache for Harry.
Panicking to escape the noise, he quickly rushed out the nearest door of the Reptile Habitat.
…
Once outside, Harry began desperately rubbing at his temples, hoping to relieve some of the pain as his head pounded.
Waiting for his headache to fade, Harry felt something wet dripping down his forehead. Rubbing the back of his hand across his forehead, he quickly pulled it back to see what it was, only to freeze at the blood smeared across his skin.
With a start, Harry remembered an important fact from the storybook. 'That's right! Later in the story you find out that Harry's scar contains a Horcrux.' Considering that he hadn't felt anything coming from the scar until now, he had almost deluded himself into believing that it didn't exist.
Worried that someone might have noticed the odd bleeding of his scar, Harry tried to keep from panicking. 'I need to wait for a moment when I'm alone; preferably in a place where someone won't walk in on me, if I want to call Death and have her take care of it.' It wasn't much in the way of a plan, but there was little he could do about it right now.
Quickly rubbing the blood off onto his oversized flannel, hoping that the fabrics dark pattern would hide the blood, Harry glanced around nervously to make sure no one was paying any attention to him. As he does, his eyes spot the Dursleys making their way out of the Habitat.
Breathing a sigh of relief, it looked like nothing 'funny' had happened during his absence, sparing him from being locked in the cupboard without food.
Walking back over towards the Dursleys, Vernon's face filled with annoyance after spotting him approach. "We're leaving boy… Dudley's grown bored of this place and wants to home and open his presents. If you run off again, we'll leave you here." He warned, turning to briskly walk away.
Nodding wordlessly, Harry followed them silently back to the car, not at all surprised that Dudley had grown bored. 'I swear, he has the attention span of a fish; I'm surprised he lasted this long.'
Back in the car, Harry was forced to listen to Dudley brag about how many presents he has to play with when they get back.
Hoping for a distraction, he turned to stare out the car window while his thoughts drifted towards the future. 'I hope the Hogwarts letter gets here soon. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.'
- Time Skip: 2 Weeks Later -
It was on a hot summer morning that a sweaty Harry stood in the driveway of 4 Privet Drive, washing Vernon's car by himself as the Dursleys relax inside.
The last two weeks had thankfully been relatively peaceful. No accidental magic had happened, and Harry had learned how to stay out of the way of his 'family' while going about completing his chores.
One thing he discovered while living under the Dursley's 'care' was that if he tried to finish his chores early, Petunia would always find something else for him to do. That led to Harry slowing down and taking his time in completing them for a long as he could reasonably get away with…Including moments like now as he washed the car.
'Technically, the car has been clean for the last 10 minutes and I'm just spraying it with water to waste time.' Harry thought with a grin. 'But! As long as it looks like I'm still washing it, I can have a few more minutes to myself.'
Peace and quiet, Harry had learned, was a luxury at the Dursleys. Between Dudley's childish tantrums and Vernon's loud commentary while watching television or discussing his work, it became clear that Harry would never be able to find any peace or quiet while he was inside the house.
As he continued mindlessly spraying the hose at the car, Harry spotted something moving out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, Harry's eyes went wide at the sight of an owl sitting on the roof of the house, seemingly watching him work.
Realizing what it meant, he quickly shut off the hose and rushed to finish drying the car before racing towards the mail. And sure enough, after sifting through the pile of mail, he found a thick envelop that was quite different from the others.
Taking a moment to run his hand over the envelop and feel the thick parchment, Harry couldn't help the smile that stretched across his face as he read the elegant writing on the front.
Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey