3 years old:

Vernon's face was beginning to change colour from white to a bright red. How dared the freak do anything like that to his precious son? Not that he knew what the freak had done. He had just walked into the living room to find three year old Dudley crying on the floor and instantly thought it had to be the freaks fault. Who else could it possibly be?

Now if Vernon had stopped to think about the situation he would have known that the so-called freak was in the garden taking care of his wife's hydrangeas. It was, therefore, impossible for her to have done something to the make the toddler in front of him cry. Most likely Dudley, being overweight, had lost his balance and fallen on his bum. As toddlers didn't have the biggest pain tolerance this would make him cry. Instead, he jumped to conclusions: It simply had to be the freaks fault.

As he raced around the house to find the freak he became more and more enraged. So when he finally found the freak in the garden he was seeing red.

He grabbed her arm harshly and pulled her with him into the house, totally ignoring her surprised yelp. Neither did he care when he pushed her roughly into the living ro3om where Dudley now was playing with his action figures. Not having the time to react the so-called freak, Alexandra Potter, fell to the floor. Alexandra didn't cry as she was used to being pushed around. It wasn't a rarity for her uncle to push and even hit her. Her three year old body, however, wasn't meant to be pushed around and blood now tickled down her knees.

"I-I'm so so-sorry," her big green eyes were fearful, "I-I'll do bet-better, I pro-promise."

Even though Alexandra didn't know what she had done she knew her uncle was mad. Very mad. She also understood that this probably had to do with the things that happened around her. Weird things, unnatural freakish things as the Dursley's called them.

"Look you impudent little brat," Vernon's hands clenched as if preparing to hit the little girl in front of him, "I do not want you messing up my family. We are respectable people in this household, and just because you are, are a freak show doesn't mean you have the right to do anything!"

"Ye-yes sir, I'll-I'll do better sir," Vernon took a step forward and Alexandra automatically covered her head with her arms. This was a reflex: She assumed he was going to hit her. There was, however, no impact to be felt instead, her uncle screamed once more.

"Go to your closet freak and stay there!"

She didn't need to be told twice, happy she had gotten away without any serious damage Alexandra scurried across the floor into the kitchen. Here she hurried into the brooms closet and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. Even though the closet was dark as the night, Alexandra felt the most at home when she sat in there.

So there she sat in the dark, her knees really hurt, and her chin was badly bruised. Only now she let out a silent tear. It just wasn't fair, while Dudley was dotted on by her uncle and aunt she had to do chores. And while she liked gardening it was quite a harsh task for a three year old. Not that her aunt seemed to mind. She only came out once to check on Alexandra, giving her a glass of water. Alexandra, however, knew better than to think it was because Petunia cared for her. No, it was so that she wouldn't faint from the hot weather and thereby alert the neighbours.

Not that they would care, Alexandra thought bitterly, she had seen them looking, talking. They knew something was wrong, no three year old was supposed to do such harsh physical work. They liked to look at her and to gossip about her, but they didn't care for her. If they did they would have taken her away from this hellhole. The thought was bitter but it was the truth. Why would anyone care for a freak like her anyways? She was but an abnormality. A stain on the Dursley's otherwise perfect reputation.