Harry Potter And The Bleak World. That is the name of the first book.

Chapter two of this spectacular book-in-a-book, The Vanishing Glass.

I do not own Harry Potter! This is an AU.

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Nearly ten years ago, the Dursleys found themselves in the care of a baby they hadn't wanted in the slightest, but Privet Drive had hardly changed. 

The sun rose tiredly as it always had everyday. Only the photographs on the mantle of number four had changed; Ten years ago, there was a number of pictures with a baby boy that looked more like a pink beach ball wearing all different colours of bonnets, but now, the photographs showed the same boy, though much older; Riding a bike, or on a carousel at the fair, all the this and that. 

Not a single picture showed a thing of the other child in the house.

Harry, as many called him, still lived with the Dursleys. But very quietly. At the moment, he slept still in his makeshift bed. This boy slept in the cupboard underneath the staircase. Dudley, of course, slept in a real room, as he loved to brag about. 

"Up! Up, now!" His Aunt, Petunia Dursley, shrieked, her voice shrilly. Harry woke with an abrupt start, his head just narrowly missing the wooden beam above him. "I'm up!" He said, closely followed by a yawn. It was only moments like these that he chose to speak. To him, there was no reason to speak if nobody truly cared to listen. He'd rather sit down in a corner and read a long book. 

"Well, hurry up! I need you to watch this bacon," His aunt said, and he heard the sound of her heels clacking away from his room on the hard floor. How can you even wear heels so early in the morning?, he wondered, but he stayed silent. He peeked his head out the door of his little room, only to be knocked back in by a running Dudley. "Orphan!" The boy shrieked, waddling towards the living room. But Harry, having learnt long ago it was better to not say anything, just stood back up and went to go make sure the bacon hadn't already burnt.

When he walked in the kitchen, he had almost a horrid realisation; Today was Dudley's birthday. The table was covered in presents, plates of food sat innocently on the counter, and the smell of crisp bacon. Petunia turned off the stove, and handed him the pan. "Set up the food the way my Duddy likes it," She said. Harry nodded, placing the bacon beside the bowl of sugary cereal Dudley always ate, and a cup of orange juice. When he placed the plate with the others, he sat on a stool beside the door, and read the same book he'd been reading for the last week, and ate his own portion of bacon off the plate in his lap.

Perhaps it had something to do with how he lived in a tight little cupboard, but Harry had always been a thin boy. In comparison to Dudley, who could be presented as the twin of a pig, he looked like an eight-year old, though he was ten. He looked even smaller with the large, worn-out clothes that Dudley couldn't fit into anymore. The only odd thing about Harry's appearance was a thin scar that spread the length of his entire forehead, like a bolt of lightning, or like lines stretching from a single spot. He hated it with a burning passion. 

"Comb your hair, boy!" Uncle Vernon barked, and Harry sighed, nodding, but he continued to read. It wasn't anything new to hear, because every week or so, Vernon complained about how Harry's wild hair needed a comb or brush put to it, or how he needed a haircut. But whenever anyone tried to cut his hair, it just grew back, almost always a little longer. By the time Dudley finally came to the kitchen, he complained about how he had less presents than last year. Harry scarfed down his bacon, fearing that Dudley was going to have a complete temper tantrum, which Harry learned was very bad for the plates, but then watched as Petunia bargained with him, eventually giving in and saying he'd get two more presents. Harry continued to watch as Dudley struggled to figure out thirty-seven plus two was thirty-nine, then as Petunia left to answer the phone while his pig of a cousin unwrapped multiple presents.

"Vernon," She muttered when she returned. "Bad- bad news. Mrs.Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She said, pointing at Harry with a thin finger. Dudley's mouth fell open. Every year on his birthday, he got to go to amusement parks, and movies and such, while Harry had stayed with Mrs.Figg, an elderly lady two streets down. He honestly hated it there. It always smelled of cabbage, the scent reeked on him for almost two weeks, and there were so many cats, and even more photos of them. He almost thought he'd had an allergy to cats, with how he always sneezed his head off whenever one propped itself on his lap, or just anywhere near him, honestly. And then he'd be sneezing for days afterward because the fur got stuck in his hair or in his clothes. He couldn't bare it, but he preferred it over spending time with Dudley that when didn't need to. 

"Now what? He can't come with us." Petunia said, glaring at Harry, as if she thought it were all his fault. 

"We could phone Marge." Uncle Vernon insists, but Petunia quickly shakes her head. "Don't be silly, Vernon! She hates the boy!" 

Harry eventually decided it'd be better to read than to pay them much mind. They had always spoke of him like he wasn't there, or like he couldn't understand them. 

"What about your friend? What's-her-name, Yvonne?" Vernon suggested. 

"On vacation in Majorca." Petunia replied.

"You could leave me here." Harry chimed in. Petunia scoffed. "And come back to a house in shambles–" 

"I won't blow up the house." He promised, but the look on their faces was enough for him to know they didn't believe him. 

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo... And leave him in the car.." Petunia said. Vernon grumbled out a response. "He can't stay in the car, it's new." 

When Dudley realised there was a high probability he'd have to be with Harry the whole day, he cried. And loudly. It was all fake, however; The boy hadn't actually cried in years. But he knew he'd get whatever he wanted if he screwed up his face and whined. So he did just that; Whined and complained about how Harry always ruined everything.

Petunia lovingly shushed his wails, and he sent a nasty grin to Harry from within her arms. But just as, the doorbell rang, and Petunia shrieked a high-pitched "They're here!" and ran to get the door. Moments later, Piers Polkiss and his mother stood in the doorway of the kitchen, wishing Dudley a happy birthday. Harry hid his face deeper within his book, if possible. In his head, he'd never get the luxury of hearing those words said to him. but he ignored the pain in his heart, and indulged himself back into the plot of his recently attained novel.

However, half an hour later, Harry had been staring out the backseat window of Vernon's new car, with Piers and Dudley. Before they left, he had been pulled to the side by Vernon— "Any funny business, any at all, and you'll be in your cupboard until Christmas,"— he had been warned. He hadn't planned on causing any trouble anyway, so he kept silent and nodded. Nobody in the house particularly liked to hear his voice. Or, really, anywhere else, as long as they knew Dudley.

On the street, a motorcycle passed the car. Harry thought of a dream he had; A motorcycle flying over all of Surrey, but he still kept quiet. If the Dursleys hated anything more than him as a human being, it was undoubtedly whenever he brought up anything unrealistic or asked any questions. When they finally reached the zoo— to Harry, it felt hours of being poked and prodded at by Dudley and Piers— things felt better. But, of course, they didn't last. The whole morning was amazing, but past lunchtime, it all spiraled downwards.

After eating the food the zoo provided, they went to the reptile house. And Dudley very quickly found the biggest snake. Piers had gone off to look at some iguana. The snake probably could've wrapped itself around Vernon's car twice, maybe a third time, and crushed it like a drink can. But at the moment, it didn't look like it'd even bother with such. It was fast asleep, much to the disdain of Dudley. He banged on the glass before making Vernon knock on the glass twice. When he didn't get a reaction, he grumpily walked off to find the next biggest snake he could. Harry moved to where Dudley stood; He wouldn't be surprised if the snake had died of boredom.

But suddenly, it woke up, and stared Harry dead in the eyes. And he could've sworn it winked. He hesitantly winked back. The snake jerked it's head towards Dudley, and with the flick of it's tongue, he could've sworn it spoke. "I get that all the time." 

Harry nodded, shaking off the suspicion. "I know. It must be annoying. People always disturbing you." Then the snake nodded. "Where do you come from, anyway?" The snake's tail pointed at a sign; 'Boa Constrictor, Brazil. This specimen was bred in the zoo.' Harry hummed. 

"I don't get why it says Brazil but then says you've been born here. I'd like to go to Brazil too. I'd take you with me, if I could." He said, before a deafening scream came from behind him.

"DUDLEY! MR DURSLEY! COME LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" Piers screamed loudly. Dudley waddled over, holding much more resemblance to a penguin than Harry'd like to admit, "Out of the way, you!" He said, pushing Harry with a sharp punch to the ribs. He fell to the ground with a painful thud. What happened after, seemed so quick that you'd have to see the world twenty times slower to fully know what had happened; One second, Dudley and Piers had their noses pressed at the glass, and the next, they backed up with screams and shrieks. Harry felt around for his glasses for almost half a minute, before he finally found them.

And the boa constrictor had been right before him, staring. He heard a low hiss in his ears; "Thanksss, amigo..." The snake said, swooping underneath his arm slickly, and curling around his waist. "I'll stay with you for a while." The snake hissed. 

The keeper of the reptile house stood behind him, shocked. "But the glass... And he's not... Where did?.." He kept muttering. He inched towards Harry, motioning for him to stay calm, but he couldn't even get near without getting hissed at, fangs being flashed in his specific direction. "Kid, you can't-- you can't keep that snake, he's— he could eat any house pet you have, and-- and he's a boa constrictor! There'd be nowhere for him to go!" He tried. 

"Well, I don't have any house pets, and I've got space to share." Harry shrugged, rubbing the snake's small head with his finger.

The zoo director himself made Petunia a strong cup of tea, a check with a surprising number of zeros, and to Harry, a guide on how to raise snakes, as well as a number of apologies to all of them. Piers and Dudley went on and on about how the snake almost bit one of their legs off, or wanted squeezed the life out of them. Though it was very untrue; His new pet snake, that Harry chose to name 'Hydrus' after one of the constellations he knew, had only playfully snapped at their heels as he passed them. The two kept up the story all the way till the time they calmed down, which was undeniably a while. 

And unfortunately, Piers had calmed down a little too much. "Harry was talking to the snake before the glass disappeared, wasn't he?— Weren't you, Harry? And you're keeping it too!" 

Harry shook his head and tried his best to deny it, but he already knew Vernon made up his mind. It was already his fault, and this only just made him look worse. By the time Piers was safely out the house, Vernon snapped. "Go— to your cupboard! No meals!" He barely yelled, falling back into a chair. Petunia practically ran to get him a brandy as Harry struggled to move around the books in his makeshift 'room' to make space for Hydrus. Later, he genuinely wished he had been quick enough to grab Dudley's old watch before he tossed it aside for the new one he got today. Of course, not like the Dursleys would notice his small form walking around the house, but Vernon of all people would notice the fridge opening, even if drunk.

Harry had lived with the Dursleys for a torturous ten years, or, as long as he could remember, ever since his parents died in that car crash. It gave him the very scar that he loathed so; The one that looked heavily like his veins were outlined, a faint white that stood out heavily against that of his skin tone that let you know it was a scar. Yet the thing was, he couldn't ever remember a long car ride that matched the one the Dursleys always told him about, even if he strained his memory to the point that he gave himself a headache. What he did remember when he did such; a blinding flash of green, a deafening scream that he could only assume belonged to his mother, and a burning pain on his forehead. He could imagine what all of these were. Or, he could assume.

The green light-- most likely a stoplight before another car crashed into them, the scream probably his mothers, and the pain, very obviously the scar. That was what he got whenever he tried to think of his parents. The green light, the scream, and the pain. He had no recollection of any real memories with them, their faces. 

Maybe he'd just need to try harder and remember them, he told himself. But how could he, when he couldn't even imagine the crash, because there wasn't a single picture of neither his father or his mother anywhere he could find. He always hoped that some distant relative would find him, one with pictures of his parents, or that the strangers who he always met in the street would be kind enough to take him. But he knew this was just being hopeful.

At school, he had no one. Everyone knew better than to disagree with Dudley's gang, and they hated Harry Potter with the baggy clothes and the broken glasses. Here, when Dudley got bored of seeing Harry peacefully reading in some corner, he only had Hydrus, and he could only do so much before Dudley would go run and find something to throw at him. His life, was not an admirable life to live. At all.

But, then again, he lived through it all every single day, didn't he?

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Revision of the revision?