Hey, I guess it's been a while since I've done any writing- here it goes.
Disclaimer; It will probably become obvious within the next five minutes to you I am not JK Rowling, therefore I do not own most of these characters, nor will I for any future chapters.
Bugger he thought his hand slipping on the trowel, slicing his little finger open, as he wiggled the blasted weed around desperately trying to pull it up. But now to the crux of the matter- gardening has never killed anyone and let's face it, if pulling a few weeds was the worst thing to happen to Harry this summer, he could count himself amazingly lucky. Or possibly dreaming. However the unfortunate reality of Harry's life, that weed he'd just spent the last ten minutes battling, wasn't the only thing he would be battling this summer.
It had been only a few hours since he'd returned from school. A few hours apparently were more than enough for the Dursley's however. Petunia took one look at Harry, sniffed and said "Look at the state of my lawn, boy" and not a hell of a lot else, but her meaning had been crystal clear. Still Harry thought, weeds are better than, well not much, but at least it was something to keep him busy.
The weed became a basilisk under the glaring sun, the trowel his sword, and the grass the cool stone floor of the dungeons. Die. Die you fiend. But it wasn't the basilisk he'd killed this year. It was Sirius. No –one noticed the black haired boy curled on the Dursley's jaded front lawn, crying.
Chores, more chores, don't think about anything. And he didn't, he shut everything out, blocking his thoughts and feelings, until he didn't mind the Dursley's anymore. Until he could deal with the pain and heartache, because it was pushed so far to the back of his mind he was barely conscious. More chores.
Days, no, weeks passed, drifting away like leaves on a breeze. But even the Dursley's, blind as they were, were beginning to notice something was wrong with Harry. They had rarely fed him, but now he didn't bother to beg for food, they worked him day and night, but he never slept. And when they spoke to him, yelled at him and ordered him around, his eyes didn't even register shock, he never spoke, just nodded and followed orders.
Dimly he heard Vernon and Petunia arguing about him in the kitchen. "The Boy's planning something" Vernon muttered darkly. "Don't be so... absurd" hissed petunia "that school of freaks has pushed him over the edge, he's clearly deranged". "What if he turns on us, on poor Duddikins?" she asked her husband, who was probably puce in the face at this point in time. Harry could imagine the ghost of a smile on Vernon's lips as he replied "Don't worry dear, I'll knock some sense and manners into that freak"
Harry nodded.
It took Vernon a day to put his plan into action. He waited until night fall, and found harry in the back garden, hacking away at a bramble bush. "Boy" he snarled, Harry turned round, as if surprised, but his eyes were empty. "Come here". So Harry went. He knelt before his uncle, and Vernon gagged him with an old tie, that tasted of sweat on Harry's tongue.
Maybe it wont be so bad, Harry thought, maybe if I don't scream or cry he'll get bored. He restrained a laugh at that last thought. Maybe if I'm lucky he'll kill me this time.
Vernon pulled a belt from behind his back. But Harry had already known what was going to happen. His uncle lashed out, again and again. Ripping into the flesh on Harry's back, stripping it back to the blood and bone, piece by piece. "Freak" he called "worthless". But Harry was far away. Walking a corridor he had avoided for the last few weeks, opening the door, falling into the trap he should have known was there. The only time he gave his uncle the satisfaction of his screams, was when he saw Sirius fall though the veil.
Seeing it again was proof for Harry, he couldn't have done anything differently, it was still all his fault. And he would carry that with him willingly. But Sirius was gone, and he had to accept that. The weight on his mind lifted. A shocked Vernon looked at the blood on his hands, as Harry passed out and his body began to glow, softly.
Inside Harry's head a very strange thing was taking place. His magic and mind repressed for so long were breaking free, healing Harry, and in the process strengthening the bond between his magical core and his mind, until it was stronger than it had ever been. He could feel every inch of his mind as if it were alive, every memory calling to him, every speck of knowledge burning in his veins.
Enough Harry thought, the pain in his back was nothing compared to the pain in his eyes. Thinking back to his brief occlumency lessons, a thousand thoughts were filed and shuttered away. He pulled a wall from inside his magic, up and around his mind, it grew and grew until even Harry himself was amazed at its strength. And the way lilies grew out of the cracks in the wall.
His uncle, stumbled backwards as Harry awoke, stood up and walked away, dripping blood onto the grass and his once empty eyes now almost glowed with a new fight, a new purpose.
Harry jogged up to his room, grabbed his wand and invisibility cloak, he wouldn't need much else where he was going. Smiling Harry wrote a small note for his family. Goodbye, I won't bother you again, well not for a while anyway. Then he left.
A night bus, a train and a secret passage way. All he needed to get into Hogwarts. More specifically the room of requirement. He opened the door, warily, not sure if his theory would be correct. "Ah good to see, nothing's changed" he said to himself out loud. As he reached for the shelf nearest the door and the tarnished watch, marked in years not hours. One turn anti-clockwise and then a whole year stretching a head of him before he needed to return to the real world. Longer if he needed. More than enough to train himself to defeat a dark lord called Voldemort.
Please review, makes this writing lark worthwhile.
Lots of love, Louisa...
