: I don't own Harry Potter. This belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Harry clenched his jaw as he was thrown into the ground by his uncle. After hours of pruning, weeding, and cleaning his aunt's garden, he and fallen asleep whilst dusting the bottom of the bookshelf in the front room.

He arched his back and hissed in pain as he felt a smelting stick forcefully hit his spine. He was loosing count of the hits as black spots danced across his vision.

He barely heard his uncle as he yelled, "Be down in five minutes or you'll get no food for a month!"

Harry laid on the floor for a minute as he tried to breathe and not pass out from the pain. Slowly, he got up and tried to access the amount of damage his uncle did this time. He pulled off the ripped, blood-stained shirt at a snail's pace, trying not to aggravate the new and reopened wounds.

He grabbed a new shirt, pants, and made his way to the bathroom across the hall. He closed and locked the door. He looked into the mirror, twisting and angling his body to see the welts, wincing at the bloody sight.

He quickly wrapped his wounds, realizing that he had dozed off, and pulled on the baggy clothes that he had been so graciously given, grimincing at the pain. He went to the kitchen, pulled out the steak, asparagus and red potatoes, hastily cutting, chopping, searing, seasoning, and plating. Harry left the still steaming food on the table as he went to the tiny cupboard he called his own. He laid down and tried to get a least a wink of sleep before doing his nightly chores.

Next Morning

"Get up! Get up you useless prat!"

Harry woke up, groggily, at the sound of Aunt Petunia pounding on the door.

He sat up and winced as his head hit the top of the cupboard. Groaning, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and three the thin blanket off of his legs. Opening the small door, he headed to the kitchen to start on the days' breakfast that he knew he would get none of. Just as Harry placed the plates of food in front of the three pigs, the mail slot could be heard opening and closing.

"Get the mail, idiot boy!" Uncle Vernon boomed. Harry walked quickly to the door and picked up the mail, going through it as he walked back into the kitchen.

"Stop your snooping!" Uncle Vernon yelled. But harry barley heard him as he came to a thick envelope addressed to him.

Harry tried to shove the letter behind his back, but Dudley called him out.

"Dad! He's got something! Behind his back! Look!" Uncle Vernon swerved to Harry and grasped the scruff of his neck. Vernon walked Harry to his cupboard and threw him roughly inside, but not before grabbing his letter.

"Don't you ever try something like that again! You here me boy!" Harry didn't respond, instead choosing to advert his eyes. "You'll receive your punishment later."

Harry winced as he slammed the door.

Harry thought of the letter for a while. About the sender and where it came from. He let his imagination run wild and slowly fell into a light sleep hearing every footstep, every door close, every hushed whisper. His moment was ruined by Petunia yelling, "Get off your lazy bum and clean the bloody kitchen!"

He sighed.

Two Days Later

Harry was starting to get upset with whoever was sending him letters.

It was fine at first. They locked him in his cupboard and he didn't have to do any chores? But after a day or so, his legs were stiff and he needed to use the bathroom?

There was a lot of commotion outside of the cupboard and Harry could hear Vernon doing actual work with a drill and hammer.

Around maybe three days later, Harry honestly couldn't tell, Vernon dragged Harry out of the cupboard and gave no explanation when he threw Harry into the car. Harry was, to say the least, very confused.

They had stayed in a hotel for a few days, Harry was finally able to get some water and the lady at the front had offered him a piece of fruit.

Then they were off again and Harry did not like the look of a box that Vernon had bought at a shop that they had stopped at briefly. They came up to a small, dark place near the sea and Vernon ushered them all into a small boat. Vernon took control and rowed them to a rock that had a very small shack precariously placed on it. Harry frowned and obediently followed his relatives into the shack. He was not surprised when Uncle Vernon roughly picked Harry up and promptly threw him in the corner farthest away from the fireplace.

The rest of the day was relatively quiet untill it was time for bed. Harry was to stay in the corner while Duddley got the sofa and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia went upstairs.

As Harry laid in the corner replaying the week's events in his mind, he realized with a start that today was July 30th. He quietly walked over to the snoring lump on the couch and checked the time on his wrist watch. 11:34. He was smiling like an idiot. His birthdays were never anything special, but still, you don't turn eleven every day.

He sat back in his corner and quietly counted down until midnight.

20...

Harry tried to relax but the waves seemed to be crashing a lot louder than before.

15...

Harry glanced at Dudley's watch again.

10...

Knock, knock, knock.

5...

Harry frowned and glanced at the fort and then towards the stairwell.

4...

BOOM BOOM BOOM

2...

Harry looked with wide eyes at the door, fear slowly creeping in.

1...

CRASH!!!

***

Words~ 991

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