Harry's eyes snapped open and he let out a gasp as he sat up in the small mattress he slept on. He didn't have long to think about his dream when he heard his aunt banging on the door to the cupboard under the stairs, where he slept. He rubbed his forehead and sighed.

"Up!" The shrill voice of his aunt demanded. "Up! Get up now!" She was still banging on his door. She moved away from the door and Harry heard the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled on his back and looked up at the underside of the stairs. He was trying to remember the dream he'd been having. There were flashes of green everywhere, and a woman was speaking to him sweetly. He had the funny feeling that he'd had that same dream before.

His aunt was back outside the door. "Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

Harry groaned threw his arm over his face and pulled the blanket over his face.

"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing..." Harry muttered.

Dudley's birthday - how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair in the little box he kept all his clothes, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. The spiders were nothing new to Harry, not like when he was really small. They didn't frighten them anymore. He opened the cupboard door and stepped out. He walked down the hall to the kitchen. Petunia had thrown open the window and Harry glared at the sun. It seemed to mock him with its cheerfulness.

The Duddly's gifts covered the table. Bright wrapping paper promised the spoiled boy another happy birthday. Harry had never experienced that. He'd never gotten a gift from his family before. He didn't mind too much, he could live without, but it was still annoying to see how Dudley got everything his heart could ever wish for, but never was grateful for any of it.

Harry pushed back his messy black hair out of his green eyes. He blinked quickly as he looked down at the pan and flipped over the bacon. His glasses were slipped down his face since the last time that Dudley had broken them after the game of Harry Hunting. He pushed them up with his pointer finger. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast on his feet, so it was surprise that he'd been caught by his cousin who was very fat and hated exercise. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. The only thing Harry thought was interesting about himself was the scar on his forehead. He'd asked his aunt how he'd gotten it, but she said that he'd gotten it in the accident that had killed his parents. Then she snapped at him not to ask questions. Don't ask questions. That was the only constant of the Dursley house.

Vernon walked into the kitchen and snapped at him to brush his hair. But they both knew that no matter how much Harry brushed his hair, it wouldn't lay flat. Harry didn't mind that much. He felt like it gave him a more unique look.

Harry had finished cooking breakfast by the time Dudley wandered down the stairs. Harry placed the food on the only exposed parts of the table. He then rushed to pour his uncle his morning cup of coffee. Dudley stood at the kitchen enterance and counted his presents. "Thirty-six?" He asked. "That's two less then last you!"

"No honey, you didn't see auntie Marge's gift. It's right here under the gift from mummy and daddy." Petunia smiled, trying to calm the tantrum that they could all feel building. "And when we go out today we'll get you two more presents. Doesn't that sound good, Duddy?"

Dudley stood and thought it over for a few seconds. "Yeah, then I'll have...thirty...thirty..."

"Thirty-nine." Harry said, taking a quick bite of his bacon. Dudley looked at him with a glare. Harry rolled his eyes and put his head down. He didn't want to turn the anger of his cousin on himself. He'd only been trying to help...more or less. He jumped when Vernon slammed his hand down on the table and stood, causing the table to shake dangerously. Harry could feel a sweat beginning to form on his temple. His shoulders tensed.

"Now see here, you little-" He began. They were interupted by the ringing of the phone. Petunia went quickly to answer it, shooting Vernon a look to keep quiet while she was on the phone. Vernon lowered his voice. "Don't you try and act all smart." He poked Harry's chest with a thick finger. "If you disrespect Dudley again, I'll smack you about the head, you understand me?" He hissed dangerously.

"Yes, uncle Vernon." Harry said quietly.

Harry watched as Dudley ripped open his gifts, throwing the paper on the ground. He scrunched his face up at some of the gifts, pushing them aside. He unwrapped a racing bike, and a camera. He was just unwrapping a wrist watch when Petunia stormed into the kitchen angrily.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction. "What do we do now?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips. Dudley was already starting to pitch a fit, but his mother came to his aid.

"We can just keep him here." Vernon said. "We can lock the cupboard."

Harry felt his heart sink. He thought maybe he'd be allowed to go with his cousin to the fun places his parents always took him and a friend. But it seemed like he'd just be spending the day in his cupboard. Vernon grabbed him by the arm and hauled him towards it, slamming the door behind him, locking it. He left the vent open so Harry could breath in the summer heat. Small mercies.

Eventually the Dursleys left and Harry sat miserably with his chin resting on his hand. He waited until he was sure that the Dursley's had left before he grabbed a broken coat hanger and slipped it through the vent. He unhooked the lock and pushed open the door. He'd been doing that for a few years. He went into the kitchen and found that all of breakfast was now in the garbagecan. Harry looked in the trash and pulled out four pieces of bacon. He didn't know when he'd get food again. He ate it quickly and sat down on the couch. He didn't want to turn on the T.V. in case someone heard it. If they told the Dursley's he'd get the beating of his life. But he didn't think it would hurt anything if he just sat and relaxed for once.

He let out a cry of surprise when he saw an owl, a real owl, fly into the house and land on the coffee table. It was holding a letter in its beak. Harry blinked a few times. He squeezed his eyes closed and opened them, but the bird was still there, blinking at him. Harry reached out and gently touched its brown feathers. "So, it's real." The bird laid the letter down and took it. Harry turned it over.

Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey

It was written in a deep emerald ink. "It's for me?" He asked the bird who hooted softly. Harry opened it, and his mouth fell open.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress

Harry pulled out the supply list. "Is this a prank?" He asked the bird, who still wasn't giving him an answer. Harry knew his relatives weren't smart enough to train an owl to deliver mail for a prank.

First-year students will require:

Uniform Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black) One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar) One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings) Please note that all student's clothes should carry name-tags at all times. Books The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble Other Equipment 1 Wand 1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) 1 set of glass or crystal phials 1 telescope 1 set of brass scales Students may also bring an Owl, a Cat or a Toad.[1] PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.

Harry let his fingers run over the parchment. He figured he could always write the mysterious person. He went and found paper from one of his spiral notebooks. He went back into the living room and saw that the owl was still waiting for him, hopping around the table, flapping its wings in irritation. "I'm moving as fast as I can." He chuckled and grabbed the last piece of bacon he'd been eating and gave it to the bird who snapped at it happily.

Dear Sir or Ma'am.
I'm sorry, but I've never heard of Hogwarts before. Would you please send me more information? Also I don't know where to buy the supplies on the list. Could I buy them in London? Is this a prank?
-Harry Potter.

Harry folded the page up and handed it to the bird. "Could you take this...to whoever sent this?" He held up the parchment. The bird took his letter and flew out the way it had come, leaving Harry baffled and more confused than he'd ever been in his entire life. He still wasn't convinced that it had actually happened. Harry gathered up his letter and took it to the cupboard under the stairs. He hid it under his bed under a loose floorboard. He looked at the clock, and saw that he still had hours until the Dursleys would be home. He thought a nap sounded nice. So he locked himself back into the cupboard, if they came back, and curled into a ball under his covers.

It'd been a week since Harry had received that strange letter. He didn't know what he was expecting, but as the days came and went he felt more and more disheartened. Maybe he'd been wrong and it had all been a prank after all. Harry was doing his chores in the kitchen, with Petunia glaring at him from the stove. She was making a special dinner. She'd gotten a message in the mail that had turned her mood sour, or more sour than usual. Harry scrubbed the floor, trying to ignore her gaze.

Harry jumped when the front door slammed open and Vernon stormed in. He was clutching five letters in his hand. He rushed at Harry and grabbed him by the hair, pulling the boy to his feet. Harry wasn't sure what he'd done. Vernon shook him violently. "Who have you been speaking to, boy?!" he screamed. When Harry didn't answer him, Vernon grabbed the boy by the front of his shirt and hauled him roughly to the cupboard. Vernon removed his belt and smacked Harry across the back with it. Just four times. Harry held in his screams. It could have been much worse, as he well knew.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry gasped, trying to rise to his knees. He grunted when Vernon smacked him across the face with the belt buckle. "I haven't been talking to anyone." His nose was bleeding, maybe broken, Harry wasn't sure. He wiped the blood off his face and kept his gaze on the floor. He knew that if he looked Vernon in the eyes he'd take it as a sign that Harry was being disrespectful. He'd get ten lashes for that.

"Vernon!" Petunia shrieked, trying to pull her husband away from the boy. "T-they'll know!" she gasped. She hugged his arm. "There's nothing we can do about them now."

Vernon reluctantly moved away from Harry, and looked at him with wild, angry eyes. He turned away and slammed the cupboard door shut. "You stay quiet boy, or I'll kill you." He threatened, before shutting the vent, leaving Harry in mostly darkness. Harry could hear Vernon and Petunia arguing. "I won't have one of those THINGS in my house!" Vernon screamed. "We said when we took him in, we'd beat it out of him, we just haven't beat hard enough."

Harry could say with certainty that he'd been beaten quite hard. He rubbed the welt on his face from the buckle. He curled up in the corner of his cupboard. He grabbed the threadbare baby blanket he'd had for as long as he could remember. It was the only thing he had that his parents might have given him. There were no pictures, no toys, no letters. It had become his safety net whenever he felt afraid. He really needed it in that moment, but not even the soft fabric was helping him calm down. He had no idea what was happening, but in the Dursley household, Harry never had to actually do anything to make them angry.

He sat curled in the corner for ten minutes before there was a sharp knocking on the door. Harry jumped, though he knew that it wasn't on his cupboard. He heard his aunt walk quickly to the door. She was muttering nervously. When she opened the door she let out a gasp. "You!" She hissed. "You awful, vile, man!"

"Petunia Evans." The person at the door said coldly. They were male and their voice was a low drawl. Every word he spoke seemed deliberate. "Are you going to invite me in, or do you muggles know nothing of manners?" The man asked.

Petunia shifted and stepped to the side. "I suppose you'll be wanting some tea." she said stiffly, walking into the hallway. "Come then."

Harry couldn't see them, but he could hear them walk into the kitchen. A chair was pulled out and the man sat down. "Where is the boy, Evans?" the man asked.

"Not here." she said stiffly. She put the kettle on the stove. "He's...visiting a friend at the moment."

"When will he return?" he asked. "Will he be calling you to let you know?"

"No." she said. "He will return eventually. You might as well come back another day."

"I think not." he said. There was the sound of a cup being set down on the table, and water being poured inside it. "Where is your husband?"

"He's taken our son out for a trip to the movies."

The man hummed and took a sip of his tea. He set the cup down on the saucer. "Why are you lying to me?" he asked quickly. "Potter isn't out with friends, so where is he?' the man demanded in a low, dangerous voice.

Harry could feel his heart hammering in his chest. What did this man want with him? Was he the one who sent the letter? Why was he talking to his aunt like that? He sounded like a dangerous person. Harry squeezed his eyes closed and his mind ran through a thousand different reasons of why the man was there, and very few of them were good. He could hear his aunt trying to stutter something out. She was clearly caught in surprise by the man.

The man was silent. The cup crashed onto the floor, shattering. Petunia shrieked, and she jumped. "You vile woman!" He growled lowly. He left the kitchen, his boots thumping against the tile and on the hardwood floors. The man stood in front of the door of the cupboard and Harry was holding his breath. The latch was lifted and the cupboard was flooded with the light of the hallway. Harry looked up and came face to face with the stranger. He was tall and lanky. His hair reached his chin, and it looked very greasy. His nose was hooked and his eyes were dark black.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

The man observed him with a grim expression. He looked over Harry, and all of Harry's injuries. "I am Severus Snape." The man held out a hand for Harry, and he took it, pulling himself up with a pain filled grunt. The man grabbed Harry's chin and turned his head side to side with the frown getting deeper. "Dumbledore will be in touch, Evans." The man said, grinding his teeth together. "I will be taking the boy with me."

"W-what?" Harry asked in alarm, pulling away from the man. "Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere safe." The man assured him. "We received your owl and I have been sent to help you buy your supplies for your first year."

"You mean...that wasn't a prank?" Harry asked with wide eyes. He smiled at the man brightly. "It's really true...the...magic?" Harry whispered the last part, as if he expected Petunia to come out with a frying pan and smack him upside the head for saying the forbidden word. Worse than asking questions, was talking about anything strange around his relatives. So being worried what his aunt would do if she heard it was a fair concern. Harry looked up when he heard his aunt gasp. He unconsciously pulled closer to the man. "Is it real?"

"Yes, of course it is." The man, Severus said, a slight sneer on his face. "I'm not surprised you're uneducated. I will teach you what I can, in the short time we have, but let us depart. We will be buying your supplies today." The man held out his hand and Harry grabbed his hesitantly. The man touched a stick, what Harry imagined to be his wand, to a pendent and suddenly it felt like Harry was being pulled through a tight tube under his navel.