Harry ducked as Uncle Vernon threw the empty owl cage into the cupboard after him. But it still hit the side of head since the small space didn't really allow for avoiding large incoming missiles. He cowered even further against the back wall as Uncle Vernon gave one final bellow and slammed the door before thundering away to the kitchen.

Finally alone he began to breath more easily again. Harry knew he wouldn't be disturbed until tomorrow morning as long as he stayed quiet. Then he grabbed the thin pillow from the even thinner mattress and buried his face in it to muffle his scream. It wasn't fair! Today had been his best birthday ever. No actually it had just been his best day ever. And now everything had been ripped away from him. It was even worse than not being allowed to read his letters.

Just then a shower of dust fell onto him. Dudley was plodding down the stairs on his way to dinner. Harry was glad that at least Hagrid had taken him out for dinner before he got the train back to Surrey. He'd even managed to save the apple for later. Slowly he put the pillow down and reached for the cord that lit the single bare lightbulb. A weak light flickered into existence just above his head, showing a couple spiders had fell with the dust. Harry carefully returned them to their webs and sighed heavily.

A loud banging made him flinch again as the door rattled on its hinges, "SILENCE, BOY!"

The footsteps retreated again and he gradually relaxed until he noticed there was something hot and wet on the side of his face. Harry touched his temple and winced as it suddenly stabbed with pain. His hand came away red and he realised the cage had hit him harder than he thought. It was just lucky he'd let his owl out the window for a fly before going to have a shower.

Harry hoped she'd find a nice forest somewhere and have a fun life in the wild with all her owl friends. Or maybe she'd find another little boy who needed a pet. He huffed again at how unfair it all was and scrabbled around to find an old cleaning rag to mop up some of the blood from his face.

If he'd never found out about magic and Hogwarts and his parents then Harry wouldn't care so much that he was back in his cupboard. He wouldn't know and then he couldn't miss it like he did now. It almost felt like Diagon Alley had been a dream and maybe he could have convinced himself it had been if not for the evidence in his pockets. The few new belongings were all that had survived the blaze, all he had to cling to the new world he'd found.

After he'd got home, Harry had left his trunk – locked with all his new school supplies – in Dudley's second bedroom and went to have a shower. The Dursley's had watched him arrive warily but nothing else. Then when he'd gotten dressed again, Uncle Vernon was waiting menacingly outside the bathroom door, looking very smug. He'd dragged Harry by his ear outside to watch his trunk be consumed by an inferno. A couple metres away on the lawn sat the container of petrol that was usually used for the lawnmower. They watched until the fire burnt down to a few embers and Uncle Vernon had chucked him in the cupboard where he could finally cry.

The only things that he'd had in the pockets of his hoodie and jeans instead of his trunk were a bag of owl treats, the very few galleons, sickles and knuts left over from the shopping trip as well as his Gringotts vault key, his train ticket for Platform 9 ¾, and his wand.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please review.