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could get enraged again, he spoke up, “I’ll come back to this part later. Especially, how on earth did you escape the bloody prison! First, let me get to know more about my son.”

“So . . . you lived with Remus?”

Harry shook his head.

“Weasleys’?”

“No.”

“Dumbledore?”

“No.”

“Then where did that crazy old fool send you to?” James asked, now angry.

“T-The D-Du-Dursleys,” Harry meekly replied.

“You’re scaring him, James,” Remus said.

“The DURSLEYS?” James shouted. “Dumbledore made you live with Dursleys?”

“Dursleys? As in my sister Petunia, and that pathetic excuse of a man, Vernon? And their pig of a son Dudley?” Lily asked in a low and collected voice. She, in fact, scared those present in the room more than James.

“Did they mistreat you?” James asked.

“That’s putting it lightly,” Harry spoke. “Please don’t get angry, mum and dad. It’s past now.”

“They will pay for this,” Lily spoke in a low, dangerous voice.

“Show us your memories of your time there, Harry. We’ll make sure they suffer for each time they mistreated you,” James said seething.

 (A/N: The memories will be the ones in italics.)

Harry extracted the silvery-white threads from his head using his wand, and put them in the pensieve.

Each person present in the room one by one went inside the pensieve. They found themselves crammed inside a very tight space, where three year old Harry Potter was sleeping on a blanket.

“Where are we?” Sirius asked.

“Inside my cupboard,” Harry spoke.

“THEY MADE MY SON SLEEP IN A CUPBOARD?” James yelled.

“Calm down, dad,” Harry spoke. “I no longer fit in there now.”

A rapt knocking on the door woke baby Harry up. He rubbed his eyes to make the sleepiness go away.

“GET UP, boy!” Uncle Vernon roared from outside. “My shoes?”

Harry quickly got up, picked up a cloth, shoe-polish, brush and went to polish his uncle’s shoes.

“THEY MADE YOU POLISH SHOES?” It was Sirius who yelled this time.

“That’s the beginning,” Harry said quietly.

“Unc-le Vewnon?” Harry spoke up.

“Quick! I don’t have all day,” he shouted.

“But, it’s my biwthday,” Harry said, excited. “Where awe my pwesents?”

“Ha! YOUR Presents?” Vernon screeched. “Freaks like you don’t get presents. Go help your aunt in the kitchen.”

“Awnt ’tunia?” Harry spoke to his aunt. “Dudley got pwesents on his biwthday, why do I never get any?”

“Because Dudley is a good boy, not an ungrateful freak like you! Now don’t ask questions!” Petunia shouted.

A sobbing Harry made his way to the table and started placing the dishes on it.

Lily and Hermione had tears in their eyes. Everyone else looked sad as well, except James. He was too enraged to be sad.

“What’s your age?” he asked, controlling his anger.

“Fourteen.”

“No, in the memory,” he said.

“Three,” Harry softly muttered.

“They made you do their work at three? And denied you presents?” James screeched.

“Tuney knows it very well we would never have treated Dudley like this, had our roles been exchanged,” Lily spoke.

The scene changed. Now they were standing in the living room.

“Your aunt, Dudley and I are going outside,” Vernon spoke.

“Whe-re?” Harry timidly asked.

“YOU DO NOT ASK QUESTIONS!” he roared.

“Y-Yes s-s-sir!”

“Your list of chores is on the dining table. If they’re not complete till we’re back, then no food for a week,” his uncle yelled.

“Yes s-sir!”

“They taught me how to read only for the reason that I could read the lists of chores they made for me,” teenage Harry spoke.

Everyone was angry beyond words. James, Sirius and Lily did not trust themselves to speak.

“What kind of relatives are they?” Remus cried, raging with anger.

Harry was surprised. He had never seen Remus angry.

“I have a feeling that things go downhill from now,” Hermione spoke.

Harry merely nodded.

The scene changed again. A five year old Harry was making the breakfast. A fat boy of same age, presumably Dudley, was playing with his toys. He picked up one block and threw it at Harry, which hit him on the head.

“Ouch!” Harry glared at Dudley, who merely laughed and threw another, bigger block at Harry.

It froze mid-air.

“Accidental magic,” Lily whispered.

Petunia, who entered the room at the moment, screamed. “Vernon! VERNON!”

His Uncle came running into the room (as fast as he could run with his troll-sized legs) “YOU BOY! Inside your cupboard! NOW! I will not tolerate any freakishness in my house! No food for two days!”

“B-Bu—”

“SHUT UP AND GO!” Vernon roared.

“Petunia knew all about accidental magic,” Lily cried.

“Yeah, they just did not appreciate it,” Harry muttered.

The scene dissolved. A six year old Harry stood in the kitchen.

“Aunt Petunia,” he said. “You never told me what happened to my parents.”

“Don’t speak about them under this house,” Petunia shouted. “Your father was a drunkard, and they died in a car crash.”

“CAR CRASH?” Sirius roared. “Lily and James die in car crash? That’s an outrage!”

“Well, there wasn’t anyone to tell me the truth at that time, was there?” Harry said, rather bitterly. “I had no reason for why strange things happened around me, what those peculiar dreams signified!”

“We’re sorry, son,” Lily whispered.

“It’s alright mum. Just, why did it all happen to me?”

“Harry—” Hermione began.

“No, please! I do not want pity. I just want this to get over soon, so that I can show you the memories of the place that’s my real home — Hogwarts.”

An eight year old Harry was now being pulled to a stool by his Uncle, his Aunt following with a pair of scissors in her hand.

“Untidy freak!” Vernon yelled. “Cut his hair so short that he doesn’t need another visit to barber for several months,” he said to Petunia, with an evil look on his face.

Needless to say, his aunt actually cut his hair to the scalp.

Harry woke up next day with his hair as messy and untidy as before the cut, if not more.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR HAIR?” Vernon howled.

“I-I d-don’t know Uncle V-Vernon,” Harry replied.

“You are a freak. Did you hear me, a FREAK! I don’t know why we took you in,” he said. “GET INSIDE!” Harry was locked in his cupboard.

“Surprisingly, they let me out in three days,” Harry muttered.

“THREE DAYS? THEY KEPT MY SON LOCKED UP FOR THREE BLOODY DAYS?” James yelled.

“Did they give you anything to eat in the meantime?” Ron asked Harry, who shook his head.

“If I am correct,” said Remus — ignoring Sirius’ remark, “Which you always are” — he spoke, “This isn’t the first time they did that, and certainly not the last.”

“No,” said Harry. “I can’t count the number of days I was locked up.

“They’re going to PAY. . . . They fed me even at Azkaban!” cried Sirius, who had been muttering curses and swear words for Vernon Dursley all the time.

“It’s all past now!” Harry said, a bit louder than he had intended to.

“I don’t CARE!” Lily shrieked. “Petunia has proved that blood is not always thicker than water.”

“I don’t know about anyone else,” Remus, though enraged, spoke in a low voice. “But definitely Dumbledore is going to hear from me for sending Harry to those gits.”

Harry stared at him with his mouth wide open. Remus Lupin angry — Remus Lupin cursing — what will come next!?

The scene dissolved to show a ten year old Harry Potter, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.

“Up! Get up! Now!”

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.

“Up!” she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he’d had the same dream before.

His aunt was back outside the door.

“Are you up yet?” she demanded.

“Nearly,” said Harry.

“Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don’t you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy’s birthday.”

Harry groaned.

“What did you say?” his aunt snapped through the door.

“Nothing, nothing . . .”

Dudley’s birthday — how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.

When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley’s birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike.

“Harry, no offence mate, but what exactly are you wearing?” Ron asked.

“Oh, the usual. Dudley’s old clothes. Not my fault he’s four times my size!” Harry replied. “And yeah, no offence taken.”

“No doubt you’ve been skinny and small for your age,” said Sirius. “But thankfully you’re not a baby whale!”

He and James had been cursing every time Dudley punched Harry.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

“Comb your hair!” he barked, by way of a morning greeting.

Harry said nothing and put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn’t much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.

“Thirty-six,” he said, looking up at his mother and father. “That’s two less than last year.”

“Darling, you haven’t counted Auntie Marge’s present, see, it’s here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy.”

“All right, thirty-seven then,” said Dudley, going red in the face.

Petunia obviously scented danger, because she said quickly, “And we’ll buy you another two presents while we’re out today. How’s that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?”

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, “So I’ll have thirty . . . thirty . . .”

“Thirty-nine, sweetums,” said Aunt Petunia.

“Pig!” Hermione said, surprising everyone. “Doesn’t even know how to COUNT!!”

“Oh.” Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. “All right then.”

Uncle Vernon chuckled.

“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. ’Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair.

“GIT! I’m telling you Lily. Right after this, we’re going there and they’re going to pay,” James seethed.

“No,” Lily muttered. As James gave her a questioning look, she said, “This time, I’m going to make them pay, for treating my son like vermin.”

Vernon pushed Harry into the car, along with Dudley and his friend.

“They couldn’t find anyone to watch me and give me a hard time so they had to take me along,” Harry explained.

“Harry, you can speak Parsletongue?” James asked him as he saw the younger Harry speak to the Boa Constrictor.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered.

“Cool!” James grinned at him.

When the Boa Constrictor was set free by Harry — James, Ron and Sirius doubled up in laughter. Even the more collected members of the group couldn’t help but smile widely.

The group watched the attempts made in order to send Harry his letter with amusement. Hagrid’s visit came next, to which everyone commented here and there.

At last, they found themselves back on the floor of Room of Requirement.

“I’ll show you the trip to Diagon Alley along with my first year at Hogwarts,” Harry mumbled.

“That will be tomorrow, because right now we’ve got to pay a well deserved visit to my sister,” Lily spoke.

“We — including me, Lily, Sirius —” James spoke up. On receiving glares from two pairs of eyes, he added, “— Remus and Harry of course!”

“First,” said Remus, “I’m going to Dumbledore for knowing why exactly he sent Harry to the people who had detested you and Lily.”

“I’m coming along,” Sirius, James and Lily said at the same time.

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