She curled up in the corner of the cupboard, body aching from the beating she'd just received. She had forgotten to take out the trash, and had earned punishment for this small slight. Tears forced their way past her closed lids, and she fought to contain the whimpers as she shifted, laying down on the thin, threadbare mat that served as her bed. She turned her head toward the digital clock that sat on the floor near her; the glowing numbers read 12:35 p.m. Yippee. She'd just turned eleven.

When her relatives began to force to do every single household chore at the age of four, she would return to her cubby and sit in the corner, hoping and wishing that someone would come rescue her. The beatings weren't bad at first; a slap here and there to properly 'train' her. But as she grew older, the abuse took on a more brutal slant, with broken bones and torn ligaments the result. By then, she was dead inside, and she no longer dreamed or wished for a way out. There wasn't one. She never went to school, and as far as she knew, nobody even knew she existed. But that was all about to change. Harry Potter…yes, that was her name…was about to receive the best news of her young life.

An unexpected tapping at the cupboard door alerted her that something was outside in the hallway. Her relatives had gone out of town for the week, leaving her alone and locked in. The tapping occurred again, and she said, "Who is it?" Her voice was hoarse from lack of use, and she winced as a sharp, glass-like pain shot through her throat. The tapping was more insistent this time, and she rolled her eyes. "I'm locked in, and I can't open the door," she told the intruder. "There's nothing of value in here. Just me." Silence met her declaration, then, with a snick, the lock opened, allowing Harry to crawl from her prison. An owl sat on the floor in front of her 'bedroom', holding a letter, which it dropped into her outstretched hand, and the owl, having accomplished its mission, flew away.

She turned the letter over in her hand and read the name on the front of it. Harry Potter, it said. The address read Cupboard Under the Stairs, Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. The back of the envelope had a wax seal with a crest pressed into it, and a return address. Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A small frown crossed her normally placid and empty features. Witchcraft and Wizardry? She stared at the envelope with confusion for a long moment as she knelt in the hallway, before a sound outside startled her into backing into her cupboard and slamming the door. In the darkness, she caught her breath, terrified that she would earn yet another beating, before she calmed herself with the thought that the Dursleys wouldn't be back for a while.

Staring at the envelope in her hands, Harry finally cracked the wax seal on the letter and read the contents. She had pushed the door open so she could see what was in the letter. Apparently, she was to be picked up by someone named Hagrid, and taken to Diagon Alley where she could get money to by robes, and books, and parchment and a…wait, this can't be right….a wand. She was to attend this Hogwarts place, as a wizarding student. Her hair was short and unruly, but it did little to mask her femininity, which vexed her aunt to no end. Aunt Petunia kept her hair short, unable to stand the beauty that the girl possessed, even though the haircut did little to diminish the strong resemblance Harry had to Lily. That only served to make Petunia's abuse more aggressive and brutal as she tried to somehow mar her sister's perfection.

Suddenly, there was a great pounding on the front door that rattled the house down to its foundation. She jumped in fright, banging her head on the underside of the stairs and yelping loudly. She calmed herself down and slowly made her way out the cupboard door and down the hallway, shaking like a leaf. She reached the door and peered out the window at one of the biggest persons Harry had ever seen in her life. His hoary visage was truly frightening, and he looked at her, smiling widely, trying to reassure her.

" 'Arry? Are yeh 'Arry Potter?" he rumbled gruffly, voice carrying through the door. Harry could only nod, shocked that anyone at all knew her. His black eyes bore into her, and he tried to reassure the girl that he was fairly harmless. Trembling, the girl finally opened the door, staring up at the man fearfully. "Come on, 'Arry. Git yer things. Yer comin' wif me."

"I...I don't have anything, and I don't know who you are," she murmured, eyes on the floor as she tried to hold up her baggy pants.

"My name is Hagrid," the man said softly, holding out a gigantic hand to her. She flinched back, unwilling to allow anyone to touch her. Seeing the flinch, and the cowed look in the girl's eyes, the half-giant came to a sudden decision. "I'm ter take yeh to Diagon Alley fer yer school things," he said softly, bending down until he was at eye level with her. "I promise I won' hurt yeh. We'll go ter Gringotts to get yeh some money, and then we'll go shoppin'."

"What...what about my relatives?"

"They can go 'n hang, fer all 'at." Grinning, Harry stepped through the door and into the promise of a new life.