Riddles of darkness

Chapter 1

He groaned

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

"Nothing, nothing . . ."

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. The sight of himself wearing Dudley's old clothes and socks disgusted him.

After getting dressed, he headed into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents.

Harry started frying the eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. His future self had forgotten how much Dudley reminded him of his Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head.

Thank goodness he didn't look anything like them. In this life, he was much taller, and his eyes were a darker green with hints of red, which was quite strange to him at first.

"BOY PUT MY FOOD ON THE TABLE!" His uncle turned purple

Despite not having much space to spare, Harry placed the plates of eggs and bacon on the table. A voice screamed out from behind him.

"THIRTY-SIX!" he yelled, 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.

The glimpse of Dudley's tantrum caused Harry to form a smirk on his face as he pondered all the terrible ways to torture him. Oh, he couldn't wait for the scent of blood it always aroused him.

Aunt Petunia also sensed danger, since she replied 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.

"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.

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley wrapping his presents. Ah, he had not that much patience. He had considered killing them on a Friday night next week.

Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror. Harry loved it. He was able to smell his anger and disappointment.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this.

That fucking horse how dare she look at him like that. He wished he could just step on her and break her neck.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."

Harry was extremely hungry. The urge to drink their blood was so strong that he was unable to ignore it. There was no way he could let himself kill them earlier, who knows what could go wrong, he had to take precautions.