Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to JKRowling; I don't own anything except the plot.

The Cursed Room

Prologue

Harry shuddered in the back seat of the car. They were doing; they were really doing it, sending him to an orphanage. He glanced out he rain-streaked window at the grey clouds, if his Uncle was telling the truth; (which he was, only Freaks lie), this would be the last thing he saw. He wished I was sunny, he hardly ever saw the sun. It was good when he did, it actually made him feel nice, for lack of better word.

The car pulled over, then stopped. Vernon got out, the whole car lifting as he did, and slammed the door. He pulled Harry out the back door by his arm.

"This is it Boy," he said. "You're staying here."

Harry looked up at high railings that made up the fence, through to the square grey-stoned building on the other side. There were words above the arch into the fencing spelling out 'WOOL'S ORPHANAGE,' not that Harry could read the writing, his relatives didn't allow him to go to school. School was for normal people, so Harry understood. He didn't understand why his relative told others he was 'sickly' and 'home-schooled.' He supposed that his family didn't want others to know they had a freak.

"Well," Vernon said, pulling Harry none-to-gently towards the door. "Come on Boy."

Harry looked again at the building, then back to his Uncle. "Please," he said, knowing it was a bad idea already. "Please I'm sorry, I didn't mea-"

"Shut-up, Boy," his Uncle replied. "You should have thought of it before you threw our Dudders across the room."

At the gate he stopped, "You go in there Boy," he said. "Say you we can't look after you and your parents are dead. Your name's Harry. Don't tell them our names, or address. Wait until I drive away before you go in.

So Harry did.

o0o

When his Uncle had driven away he walked in the gate. He felt funny as he did so, and paused, frowning. When nothing happened he decided it was just him being freaky and weird again, and he continued in. He got to the door and knocked, waiting. It was answered by a tall lady with flat, brown, rather boring hair and eyes; it was strange how the hair and eyes were the same.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Emily, how can I help?"

Harry blinked, pushing his too big glasses up his nose and looking at Emily with big emerald green eyes. "I'm Harry. My parents are dead. My family can't look after me. I have to stay here."

Emily blinked. "Oh, come in."

Harry followed Emily down the hallway into a small room just off. "Mrs Dayz, this is Harry. He was just dropped off. He hasn't got anyone. "Oh," Mrs Dayz, (presumably), blinked.

"Alright then," she continued; the funny look in her eye gone. "Well, there's only the one roo-"

"Mrs Dayz!" Emily exclaimed, shocked. "We can't it's, you know' –she glanced at Harry, dropping her voice to a whisper- 'it's cursed, you can't put him in there!"

"Emily, –" Mrs Dayz sighed. "I know, its, well, there's something wrong with it, but… it's all there is. Go on now and check on Jay. Come on Harry, I'll show you where you can stay.

Harry followed Mrs Dayz up two flights of grey stone stairs and to the first door. At the door she reached for the handle, than she paused, turning to face Harry.

"Harry," she paused again, looking for the right words. "Nobody has used this room for a while, long term that is, a few stay a day but get such a- well, the room,-" she sighed. "Harry. People say this room is cursed. We can't move the bed tonight, so you'll stay in here. We'll move you to a better room tomorrow. It's called 'The Cursed Room,' the last to stay full time in this room was fifty years ago… it just has a bad feel to it. The boy that had this room apparently was a little crazy, or strange. You'll be alright for tonight won't you?"

Harry nodded. He didn't care. Mrs Dayz smiled; a 'you'll be fine,' smile, then opened the door.

"'Night Harry."

"Night," he whispered.

The door closed and Harry made his way too and snuggled up into the wardrobe, it smelt funny, like burnt wood. He didn't mind, it was warm, even without a blanket.

The next day Harry came out at all the noise. He followed the other children down the stairs and into a dining hall. They all, except Harry who knew he wasn't allowed, had breakfast. As it was a Saturday they had the day to themselves after this. Harry wasn't noticed much, but the ones who spoke to him all asked things like:

"Did you really stay in the cursed room?" or say:

"You're not scared about that?" or "How come you're still Ok and not dead or somethin'?"

Harry would nod, shake his head or shrug. When Mrs Dayz mentioned moving he said: "The rooms fine." And that was that, he didn't want the others to know what a freak he was.

This continued until the Sunday night when Mrs Dayz called him to her office.

o0o

Mrs Dayz herself was there in her blonde cheery self, but so was another lady. Strict looking and very proper, she wore her hair in a bun and older fashioned clothing.

"Harry," Mrs Dayz smiled. "This is Mrs McGonagall. She was a friend of your parents. She's going to take you home, to some family."

Harry nodded. He didn't know he had more family. Aunt Petunia never said so; he hoped he wasn' going to Aunt Marge's. She was scary.

"Come along, Harry," Mrs McGonagall said, and marched the both out of the building to a car waiting at the gate. They got in quickly, McGonagall looking at the darkening clouds. In the car she told Harry he might as well sleep on the long trip and off they went.

Harry didn't sleep, he, once again, watched out the windows. Soon they came to Privet Drive and the car stopped at number four. Harry was confused. Uncle Vernon said he wasn't coming back, but he also said orphanages were horrible. Maybe this was all a test?

Mrs McGonagall knocked on the door, Uncle Vernon answered. He welcomed them both into the house.

"Well Mr. Dursley," McGonagall said. "Here is Harry safe and sound."

To Harry she said: "Be careful now, try to have no more accidents with your cousins you scared your family a lot you know." And at that she left. As soon as she was out he was in his cupboard. Harry was somewhat glad to have his old routine back and he fell asleep, he knew he had to get up early to do his chores.

A couple of months later he ended up at the orphanage again, then was picked up the following Sunday, a few more months, the orphanage, pick up. This continued until he spent every third weekend and special occasion there. He would sit in the curse room awaiting Sunday when he'd be picked up. He didn't like it here. He always had nightmares and strange dreams. But this was his new routine, and he was alright with that.

A.N: The reason it's so easy for Harry to not be questioned about being left is his magic. Vernon told not to tell anyone and he was to stay there. His magic manipulated things so that he could, and was protected. His magic 'knows' Vernon, so to speak, it knows what would happen if they do wrong to him.