I've had this sitting in my flash drive for a few months without finishing it, so I thought I'd at least put up here for your perusal. I might get around to continuing it, but knowing me, probably not.

This is my first go at a story that's not a blatant self-insert. Yes, I'm finally ready to leave behind my middle school writing style and try something new. This story was inspired by a book I read called iBoy. I don't think too many people have read it, but it's not necessary to understand what's going on here. If anyone's interested, you're free to use this as the premise for it wasn't originally mine anyway. Just let me know first, as I'd really like to read it.

Dudley Dursley had always gotten anything he wanted. Even things he only wanted because others had them. So when Jonny Falman showed up to school with a mobile phone, he just had to get one. And not the cheap pre-paid phone that Jonny had, but one of the best ones available on the market. His parents were against it at first, but one tantrum later, and he was on his way home with a black 32GB iPhone 4S. It was his favorite toy. He could play all sorts of games and watch funny videos wherever and whenever he wanted to.

Of course, like with all of his toys, Dudley quickly got bored with it, especially after he dropped it one too many times and the screen cracked so that it was barely usable after only two weeks. A month passed, and it was left forgotten at the bottom of his school bag.

Unlikely Dudley, his cousin, Harry Potter, never got anything at all. The only things he owned were the hand me down clothes from his much larger cousin, his school things, and small trinkets that he snuck into his room, the cupboard under the stairs, from when he cleaned the pigsty that was Dudley's room, both of them. Harry's aunt and uncle, whom he lived with, didn't like Harry at all and never spent money on him if they could help it.

Dudley, following his parents' example, didn't like Harry either and enjoyed making his life miserable whenever he had the chance. For instance, at this very moment, Dudley and his gang were chasing Harry around the playground in a game of Harry Hunting. The only teacher present was old Mrs. Henschel, who couldn't see more than three feet in front of her anyway.

Dudley had managed to climb to the highest point of the jungle gym, a height from which guaranteed broken bones if one fell, and lied in wait for Harry to pass through. Harry, having no other choice but to go towards the jungle gym, ran to it hoping to avoid whatever "punishment" Dudley and his gang were planning. Dudley, earlier that day, had emptied out his messy knapsack in search for something he'd needed and found the iPhone. For some reason, he'd put it in his trousers' pocket instead of tossing it back into his bag. It was at this moment that Dudley pulled out the nearly two month old phone. Harry just passed underneath him, and with all the strength he could muster, which was surprisingly a lot for a nine-year-old boy (though perhaps not so surprising considering the size of that boy), chucked it at Harry's unsuspecting head. It connected with a sickening crack, and Harry went down like a puppet that'd had its strings cut. Seeing him incapacitated, the group of boys quickly converged on Harry, but recoiled when they saw the rapidly forming pool of blood from his head.

While normally, the other children would have ignored any misdeeds from Dudley's gang (everyone was afraid of them), this was more than a little playground bullying. The bravest student, Michael Greene, hurriedly informed the closest teacher that wasn't Mrs. Henschel, before being sent to get the nurse. As no one wanted to get in trouble for such a serious offense, the blame was quick to fall on Dudley, who spent the rest of the day in the headmaster's office after being suspended until further notice. With so many witnesses, and being unable to blame the incident on their delinquent nephew as he was obviously the victim, the Dursley's were unable to have the punishment lessened or revoked. Furious, the Dursley patriarch promised swift and painful retribution on the injured boy.

Harry wasn't quite sure what was going on, only that his body was sore and his head tingled in a not unpleasant way. The place he was in smelled funny and there was an annoying beeping somewhere close to him. His eyes felt heavy and he struggled to open them. When he did, he immediately shut them again, his eyes being stung by bright white light. Opening them again, slowly this time, he saw that there was a lady standing next to him.

"Oh, I see you're awake! Just wait a moment and I'll fetch the doctor for you. Just sit tight, I'll be right back, sweetie."

The lady left before he could say anything. Doctor? He'd never been to a doctor's before, let alone a hospital, which was where he so obviously was now that he looked around. The Durselys would never take him. So the question was, who brought him here? The last thing he remembered was Dudley's friends chasing him, and then something hit him. The memory seemed to make the tingling worse, like when your leg falls asleep only not painful. It reminded him a little of when he was in his cupboard during the colder seasons with just his ratty blanket and thin jacket, and he'd wish he was warmer. He'd get a tingling feeling in his hands thinking it was the cold and suddenly, his cupboard became the toastiest room in number four. Harry believed it was because there happened to be a small vent in the cupboard and that the Dursley's had turned on the heat. He didn't know that the vent was actually blocked and therefore couldn't provide heat to his room as the rest of the house did.