"I told you Petunia! I told you that we couldn't trust that Freak in the house!" a round bellied man shouted while Petunia, his wife, stood staring at the wall with an undescribable look. "You gave the freak a chance and now look what he's done!" One might believe that the couple is speaking about some kind of animal their son brought home in hopes of keeping it as a pet. Unfortunately that couldn't be further from the truth as the man, commonly known as Vernon Dursely, began to turn multiple shades of red and purple due to his frustration and anger of the situation at hand.

The Freak, otherwise known as Harry Potter-- the couple's young nephew-- had yet again broken another one of their vases, burnt the family's breakfast, and wet himself seeing as his Uncle wouldn't let him use the bathroom until all of his chores were completed. A list a fully grown healthy man would find hard to complete, much less a malnourished child. This of course didn't mattter to anyone other than said child, and now Harry had to suffer the consequences of his actions even if they weren't done on purpose.

The skinny eight year old stood near his cupboard door per his Uncle's instructions, hopping from foot to foot as the itchiness of his unintended accident started to irritate his formerly smooth skin combined with his growing anxiety. The small boy shrunk back at the sounds of his Uncle's shouts at his Aunt. This is all his fault. He felt horrible, but who else would do the chores and make breakfast if he was to be banned from the house? Surely Uncle Vernon wouldn't subject his wife or real child to the same treatment as Harry had to endure for as long as he could remember.

This is one of the many the reason why Petunia kept giving him more chances no matter how he screwed them up. Unfortunatley, he blew it like he always did and now... now he's going to be at the end of one long lecture from his Uncle. The only thing Harry can do is wait for his Uncle to finish his rant before it all went suddenly quiet. This type of angry silence only ever means one thing. Uncle Vernon stands looming over his terrified frame, a sly smug smile spreading across his face.

Harry squirms and looks away, though this action was soon interrupted as his chin being grabbed by one large beefy hand and he is made to look at his Uncle's face, but no his eyes. He learned at an early age to never look adults in the eye when they're angry.

"You, boy, are in for it!" Vernon snarled, dragging the boy by his chin and into the back garden where he roughly shoved the boy against a brick wall.

The ginormous man towered over him, refusing to give Harry any personal space what so ever. Was that garlic Harry could smell radiating from his Uncles breath? Who knows. "You smashed another vase, burnt my breakfast, AND relieved yourself over another rug! Do you think we've got money to keep buying rugs just for you to ruin them?!" Vernon spat, his saliva spraying all over Harry's frightened face.

"How old are you? Two!? You're such a freak!" Vernon slapped him across the face, leaving a nicely forming purple hand print on the boys left cheek.

Harry didn't cry out, scream or do anything of the sort. He's used to pain by now, and he's got scars to prove it and memories he'll never forget for a lifetime. "Now bend over, you're getting thirty!" Harry scrambled into action, bending over and placing his palms on the wall to steady himself.

He knows that this is going to hurt and make him want to cry, and he absolutely hates them, but Freaks aren't allowed to cry... at least that's what his Uncle always says to him.

"I want you to count them. No crying and no yelling. Freaks are meant to do as they're told and stay out of the way."

And with that, Vernon slapped him on his rear end, the boy's already irritated skin causes it to feel ten times worse. The boy couldn't cry out as he knew that it would make the spanking worse, so he simply scrunched his eyes up tight and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he whispered numbers every time his uncle's hand hits his bottom and thighs.

He wants out.

He wants help.

He wanted all this to stop.

Eventually the spanking stops as Harry counted forty. He's dangerously close to tears yet he won't let them fall. Not now anyway, but later, he'll do like he does every night: cry until he can cry no more and soon drift off into a restless sleep. It's an every night occurrence and the young boy grew used to it, but he wishes that he doesn't have to grow up this way.

"We're going out, and you're staying here. You've lost your privilege of ever stepping foot into house again. We can't trust a freak like you to show us up, so you're staying out here," Vernon spits while dragging the child towards the garden. He picks up the familiar chain that he had drilled to the side of the shed and fastening it around one of the boy's thin ankles.

The man then walked back into the house only to come back out with two bowls, one filled with water and another filled with some sort of brown chewed up mush which Harry recognized as dog food, the only food he was allowed to eat on a semi-regular basis.

"This is all you're getting for the rest of the week, so make it last!" With one final kick to the boys stomach, Vernon strode back inside, shut the patio doors, and slid the curtains shut.

Why only he got punished and not his cousin is beyond Harry's knowledge. Why is it only he that gets treated like... like... like an animal! He wanted to be free from his horrid life, and free from being looked at like some unwanted toy that got thrown into the bin. Ever since his parents died his life turned to hell.

Why? Harry didn't know, but he wanted it to change and soon because the poor young boy doesn't know how much longer he can cope living like this.

He envies his cousin Dudley so much. Kisses goodnight, story before bed, and plenty of toys to play with. Harry remembered the one time when he was three years old that he tried to get a goodnight kiss from his Aunt. Instead, he got a slap to the face, and he never asked for one again.

What child needed to live in such fear? Fear of never being loved, never being able to run into their mother's arms when upset or needing someone to lean on.

Fear that no one will ever love them.

Harry apparently did need to live with these fears. Each birthday he wished the same wish, but it never came true. He dreamed of having a happy ever after to only wake up in the nightmare he's been living in for seven years, each day losing the hope of ever gaining what he once treasured: a family, love, and happiness.

Harry looks up as he hears his Uncle's car pull out of his drive, the three other members of the household having gone to enjoy a happy family outing without him of course. He's just the unwanted freak.

The boy lays his head down on his knees that he draws to his chest, tired eyes staring at nothing in particular and stomach growling as it tried to get Harry to realize that it needs to be fed. But the boy ignored it, too far gone into his self deprivation.

~

Severus, the Dursley's next door neighbour came round later on to return their garden sweeping brush, as theirs had broke. The man knocked on the door only to receive no answer. Being the good neighbour he was brought up to be, Severus walked around the back to the garden to place the brush against their shed.

Confident that they would see it and he wouldn't need to waste time coming back, the tall gentleman with black, shoulder length hair then started to head back home,only to pause when he heard soft wheezing sounds coming from the other side of the shed.

Walking around, the man's eyebrows raised up into his hairline at the scene before him. A small boy, maybe no older then five or six, laid sound asleep in the grass, bruises littering his dirtied skin and black bags hung under the boys eyes. Long black locks hung down to the boys shoulders in think dirty clumps as little fingers twitched as he laid asleep.

Quiet whimpers could be heard as the boy twitched and moved around slightly, and the man became concerned.

He didn't know what to do as the boy seemed to be shackled to the wall by a chain. Looking beside him he sees a bowl of what seemed to be dog food that's clearly been eaten out of along with a dish of water that seemed to be left untouched.

Severus took his phone out of his pocket and rang his wife, as he knew she would know what to do.

"Charity, I need you to come next door. I'm in the back garden. I can't explain over the phone.Yes, just hurry," Severus ended the call and crouched down next to the boy, deciding he wouldn't wake him until his wife appeared.

Guaranteed it was another five minutes before Charity showed herself, but once she laid eyes on the young boy she nearly began to cry. "Sev, who would do such a thing?" Charity too kneeled down next to the boy, not even wanting to touch the lad in fear of hurting him more.

"What do we do? We can't leave him here! He's obviously abused and it's unsafe for him," Severus stated in a hushed voice. "There's nothing we can do but ring child services. He's tied to the wall by a chain, Sev. We won't be able to break the chain without putting ourselves in danger. We're going to have to leave it to the professionals. Let's make the call before we lose the poor thing," Charity replied, not once looking up at her husband as her focus remained on the sleeping child.

"You're right, but we can't leave him here. Do we take pictures? Is that getting too involved?" Severus pondered. "Probably not but for now just ring child services quickly before his parents or whoever did this returns and get the police on us for intruding on their property," Charity intructed, and Severus whipped his cellphone out in order to dial up Child Protection Services.

Severus wandered around the garden as he described to the CPS manager what he's found and what state the boy is in and everything that followed. Severus ended the call with the information that they would be there in the next ten minutes along with the police and that his job is to stay with the child until they get here.

"They're on their way now, and we have to stay here until they've arrived on the scene," Severus informed his wife as he sat back down next to the boy.

~

Another nine and a half minutes later (Severus may or may not have been counting), CPS arrives. Severus walked up to them in order to bring her and her colleague to where the boy was. "Alex, take pictures. We need this as evidence," the woman, known as Emily, instructed, pulling her notebook out of her pocket before examining the boy. "Bruises over legs, arms, and face, ripped over-sized clothes, malnourished and underweight... oh, the list goes on. Have you gotten the pictures, Alex?" at the man's nod, Emily smiled and turned to Charity and Severus. man

"Thank you for calling us. We will be taking the boy to the Child Protection Services center where he will be looked after and given a new home. The police will arrive in the next couple of minutes to interrogate the Dursley's, and they may want to talk with you as well," Charity told Severus with a smile as Alex went to go get the small boy.

However, Severus couldn't stop himself from extending his arm out to stop the other woman from doing so. Charity gave him a surprised look, and Emily didn't look too pleased herself. "We'll take him in. He doesn't need the whole foster care system when his life has been hell already. We'll take care of him," Severus stated, his heart pounding.

He couldn't allow himself to let this boy be taken away. He's been hurt enough, and it can't go on any longer.

"Sir, it's policy that we take him now. Step back and let us assess him," Severus stood his ground. "He's staying with us, and that's final. You know it as well as I do that that he needs a proper home and someone to care for him. He's waited God knows how long for that to happen, so why does it have to wait... when... when we can take him in?" Tears sprung to Severus' eyes.

In such a short amount of time, the man didn't know how he could have grown such an emotional bond with the young lad.

But everything he had said was genuine. He and his family will look after the boy and help him to feel loved and wanted. No one knows how long the boy has been deprived of these this, but now Severus will finally be able to provide him with it.

Emily sighed and shared a look with Alex, nodding her head before turning back to Severus. "I will be back tomorrow to start the paperwork. I wish you luck. You're going to have your hands full," Severus nearly yelped with joy, but he managed to keep a straight face while shaking hands with Emily and Alex and bidding them goodbye.

He then looked around at anything that could pick the lock of the chain around the boys ankles.

"I have a hair clip that should work," Charity offered, pulling one of her hair slides out and giving it to her husband. She sighed in relief once it worked. Severus cautiously lifted it off of the boy's ankle and then, carefully, so as to not wake the boy up, he lifted the small lad into his arms so his head was buried into his shoulder and his own hands were supporting the boy's bum.

"Oh, the poor thing, Sev. Let's bring him home," Charity set a gentle hand on the boy's back before walking beside her husband as they headed back home with the new addition to their family.