Lord Pendragon Etc and the Philosophers Stone

Ch. 1. The boy who lived.

I'm walking through some sort of forrest, well it's more like an overgrown swamp than anything. I keep getting stuck in mud and struggle to pull myself out, yet each time, I do. Above me is pitch black, the sort of sky you feel like you could bump your head on, and all around me are thick trees that whisper things, scary things. I'm running or trying to despite all the mud, yet I'm not sure what I'm running from. Perhaps I'm running to something?

Squelch! My foot is now properly stuck, the sudden rain isn't doing me any favours in my failing escape, I keep sinking further in and the weirdest thing is the sudden drum noise that's getting steader and louder until:

"Wake up, Potter, we're going to the zoo!" In a flash, I remember that I'm not being chased by a heard of wilderbeast. I am instead sleeping in my cubord. It wasn't rain that had been trickling down my legs, to my chagrin it was ,yet again, urine.

My aunt and uncle will be so angry, but I will deserve my punishment. It's my fault for being stupid enough not to hold my bladder. Unfortunately, school holidays started yesterday, so my uncle is free to beat me as much as he wants without rousing suspicion and is even free to beat any part of my body as no one else will see. I'm dreading my punishment even more than usual. Just as I open the door to the cubord, my cousin kicks it shut again, and it bashes my nose. I try to open it again, knowing that if I'm late to make breakfast, then I'll get another punishment. I don't know why I'm bothering, I'll probably burn it anyway.

I step out of my cubord and take a step towards the kitchen before I'm lifted of me feet, my pyjama bottoms shoot up my bum crack and begin to rip "ugh you stink nerd!" My cousin cries and drops me to the floor from my wedgie in disgust, trending over me to rush into the kitchen and wash his hands.

My uncle appears at the door of the kitchen. "You better not have done what Duddly says you have, boy!" Uncle Vernon roars at me as I tear up. He kicks me harshly in the chest. "Go clean yourself up, you disgusting boy. Who's going to cook my breakfast now?!" He yells, grabbing me by my collar and pushing me up the stairs. He forcefully smacks my bottom before I obediently dart upstairs into the shower.

I strip out of my pyjamas. They're not actually mine they, like everything I have, used to belong to Duddly. However, given that Duddly is as big as a baby elephant, his clothes are far too big for me, so despite being wet, they are fairly easy to peal off. I step in the shower and let the cold water flow over my body, I'm not allowed to use the hot water because it's a waste of money and resources. I actually don't mind the coldness of the water. After my uncles kick and smack, it helps relieve the pain.

I hear the door open and a thud as my aunt drops some "clothes when you finish. And hurry up, boy!"
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," I respond politely. Quickly, I take a miniscule amount of soap and rub it on my whole body and then let the water rinse it off. Then I turn the water off and dry quickly with the hand towel my aunt left me. I slip into some of Duddles' old but nicer clothes, given that we're going out today, and I rush out of the bathroom and downstairs to help my aunt make breakfast.

As I walk into the kitchen, my uncle drags me to the dining table instead. "Your Aunt shall cook breakfast while I punish you, you swine," he says threateningly in my ear.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon," I say apologetically. My legs tremble, and I hold back tears as my uncle takes off his belt. "You know what to do," he grunts.
"Yes sir," I say and obediently bend over the dining table awaiting my beating. I close my eyes and brace myself as my uncle pulls my trousers and pants down, then raises the hand with the belt in it up to his head. He laughs maliciously as he brings the belt down onto my bottom like a whip.

I screach in pain at the stinging sensation the belt creates. After the first strike I lose focus I just know there's a barrage of lashings in quick succession and then I'm thrown onto the floor, my cousin is in hysterics with laughter, presumably my yelps of pain were halarious like normal. My uncle glares at me as he puts his belt back on and sits down to enjoy his cooked breakfast, big enough to serve three.
"Make yourself useful and clean the kitchen," he barks at me.
"Yes sir," I say, quickly getting dressed and dashing into the kitchen to make sure it's spotless.