Wot In The Harri Potter?

1 - The Cousin

A/N: An important fact to remember throughout the story - I have aged everyone up by one year. So, instead of starting school at 11 years, they start at 12 years. In this reimagined world, I have them come of age at 18 instead of 17.

TW: this book begins from a scene taken from Cursed Child and therefore contains your first trigger warning: child abuse.

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A hand reaches out, slapping me painfully across the face. I blink, confused. "Wh-what time is it?"

"Time enough," My aunt spits, sneering down at me as I search blindly for my glasses. "You're turning out to be such a limp disappointment, Harriet. When we agreed to take you in, we hoped we could improve you."

"I try..." I answer, my eleven-year-old voice sounding small and weak.

"Trying is not succeeding, though, is it? There are grease smears on the glasses. There are scuff marks on the pots. Now get up and go to the kitchen and get scrubbing."

As I crawl out of the cupboard, I realise too late that my pajama bottoms are wet.

"What have you done? You've wet the bed again!" Petunia hisses, pulling the covers back. "You revolting, disgusting child! You make me sick!"

"I can't help it!" I cry as she pins me against the wall and repeatedly smacks my head over and over again. "I can't help it!"

Once she is done mauling me, she whips the wet sheets from out of the cupboard and throws them at me.

"Get them cleaned you filthy creature, and then get to the kitchen to scrub those pans!"

I am left sobbing in the hallway outside my cupboard under the stairs, entangled in my own sodden sheets. I barely notice when footsteps approach, a hand placing tentatively upon my shoulder. "Harri?"

I look up at my cousin, Dudley, his face soft, yet eyes full of pity. Despite being the same age, he looks older than me by years, and I am instantly comforted by his presence.

Opening my mouth to speak, I am horrified to find just a small, shaking sob escapes. Aunt Petunia has hurt me, but it is nothing compared to the humiliation of my cousin discovering me tangled up in my own urine-soaked sheets.

But he doesn't laugh or mock me, despite the tears now rolling down my face. Instead he kneels down, his eyes kind and warm, offering me a small smile. "Harri," he says quietly, "Go to my room, you can borrow some of my clothes and I'll put these in the wash for you."

He tries to prise the sheets from around me, but I clutch them to me, horrified at the idea of him touching them.

"No, please no-" I say hurriedly, "I'll do it. I'm okay, honest."

I attempt to get to my feet, but the bashing I have just received from my aunt has left me feeling weak and I stumble forwards into Dudley's arms. I try not to break down as instead of letting me go, his arms tighten around me, enveloping me in a hug.

Dudley does not hug me very often, but when he does, it is the best feeling in the world.

And then I really cry, because soon he will be going off to a private school - a boarding school, and I am afraid of being here without him.

"QUIT YOUR SNIVELLING YOU UNGRATEFUL CHILD!" My aunt's voice screeches from inside the kitchen.

Dudley lets go of me quickly, afraid of being caught comforting me. I do not blame him in the slightest. Once, Uncle Vernon walked in on Dudley snapping his biscuit in half to share with me and he got slapped upside the head so hard that he yelped out in pain. It didn't matter that Vernon had immediately apologised or took him out for ice cream. Dudley had been on the receiving end of their abuse which was normally saved for me, and he was afraid of it happening again.