"You know the rules, boy. If anything is broke when we get back, you'll be locked in your cupboard for a week without food!" Vernon Dursley growled to the messy haired child that was watching him with unimpressed eyes. 

"Yes, sir." The boy replied, his voice showing little emotion as he stared at the robust man dressed in a fancy suit. Tonight he - along with his wife and 'perfect' child - would be going out to dinner with his boss (they would be discussing Vernon moving up in the industry).

For Harry, this meant that he would have the entire night to himself. This meant that he would be able to eat junk food and watch TV - something he was deprived of because of his horrid relatives.

As soon as the car drove off with the two rotund males and the skinny female that was unfortunately his family, Harry headed towards the kitchen. He hadn't been given lunch that day and his only nourishment had been bland oatmeal with a glass of water.

As he reached to the highest shelf where his aunt and uncle hid the chocolate and other candies, Harry heard the loud crashing of the bins outside being knocked over. Groaning due to the fact that he'd no doubt be blamed, Harry quickly grabbed two cookies before heading outside.

Eating one practically whole, Harry stared at the place where the silver trash bins were toppled over, their trash littering the sidewalk. Grumbling, he finished up the second cookie and went about picking up the mess.

Unknown to the ten year old boy, the cause of this disturbance was still in the area. In fact, it was right behind him. Before the young boy could react, he was pulled backwards into a large black void, unable to grab hold of anything.

His panic was overshadowed as unconsciousness fell, giving him a vague sense of peace.