The boy who failed to die.

Year 1 Chapter 1

If you was too look down the road of Privet Drive you would see a bundle of houses. Identical perfectly normal houses. Of course each one had its own difference.

Mrs. Everly of 11 Privet drive had creepy looking gnomes outside her front door like guards.

You also had Mr. Stevens of 8 Privet Drive, his grass was slightly overgrown and you would always get a strong whiff of beef and Cabbage.

Then there was the Dursley's of 4 Privet drive. The most normal family in the suburbs of London. Of course this was according to Mrs. Dursley the woman of the house.

Flowered of all shapes and sizes coloured the front garden of their house, the bushes trimmed down neatly, car sat in the middle of the drive glistening in colour as if it had been polished.

Within their perfect and normal home a baby cries and reaches out his chubby hands wanting his mothers attention and not being able to refuse Petunia Dursley leaves her cooking and picks up her barely 1 year old son.

A spoiled and loved child he always got what he wanted. His parents just loved him so much.

A few people knock their door despite the sign that hangs up saying not too and it annoys Petunia to no ends. She doesn't understand why people insist on celebrating this festive anyway.

Dressing up, eating sweets and rotting away their teeth, what a waste. A few hours later and all of the lights in 4 privet drive are out leaving the house to blend into the darkness of the night.

That night was known to be their last perfect and normal night for a very long time.

"Up get up boy, Dudley wants his breakfast and he is not to be kept waiting just because you're too lazy to pull you're wait, get up I won't ask again," I groan at the loud banging of my Aunt so early in the morning.

Its the 23rd of June meaning it's the pigs birthday, meaning I have to do twice as much as usual and that already five times more than anyone else my age. I rub my head and roll my eyes when I hear the clicking of Petunias shoes heading into the kitchen no doubt to calm the pig assuring his food to be with him soon.

I get dressed into clothes thrice my size and get out of my pathetic excuse for a room. For years now this has been all I've known but soon, really soon I'll be out of here and making those who broke me pay.

"Get over there cook the bacon, do Vernon's coffee, my tea, Dudley's orange juice, do a full English, and for gods sake boy don't burn anything,"

I hesitate and almost roll my eyes but think better of it. I just smirk.

"Yes Aunt petunia, right away Aunt Petunia," it comes out just as I wanted, mocking and ever so disrespectful by the time she'd clocked on I was already cooking the food and Dudley was demanding her presence.

"Mummy Mummy, how many do I have? how many?" Greedy pig he's not getting anywhere in life. I shake my head and smirk as I think of myself standing above him while he cleans and does my food instead because it's the only job I mercilessly allowed him to have.

"36 Pumpkin, I counted them myself," here we go again. Last year he has more just wait for it,

3

2

"36 but last year, last year I had 37," his snobby voice carries and echoes through to the kitchen and just as I expected he remembered the one less present.

"I'm sorry Pumpkin some of these are just a bit bigger this year you se plus you forgot about aunt Marge's present,"

"Alright 37 then but I don't care how big they are, I want more," his skin jiggles and sways as he walks around the room stomping like an oversized baby who's been told no.