Harry was hiding.
Dudley and his gang were wreaking havoc on the playground searching for their favorite mark. But, Harry was very good at doing this. Being unnoticed.
The boy had had a lot of practice at avoiding unnecessary attention. He had realized that if people didn't notice him then usually that meant less pain. It wasn't foolproof of course, his Aunt and Uncle would always see him exactly when he didn't want them to.
But, it usually worked at school. He was in the the last year of primary school and his teachers only remembered him when Dudley and his gang got him in trouble. Harry was never called on in class, and he had no friends. It was lonely, but it was better for him to not draw attention to himself. Besides, who would want to be friends with someone like him? Especially with Dudley's gang driving away anyone who was friendly enough to include him.
He was cautiously hopeful for the future though. Next year Dudley would be going to Smeltings Academy, a private secondary school, while Harry would be going to Stonewall High. It could be a new start for Harry- there would be no Dudley or his gang to prevent Harry from meeting new people and making a couple friends.
Harry was hiding in a bush, crouched down so that he could peer through the leaves at the 'hunters.' Thats what they liked to call this game, "Harry Hunting." Dudley's gang would spend the entire recess hunting him down, and Harry hated it when they caught him. It would usually end in pain.
But, Harry had gotten much better at this game since it first started. Now he was rarely caught, he liked to think that he blended into the background much better now. It helped that Harry was very small for his age, anyone looking at him would mistake him as younger than his 10 years. But, Harry seemed to be naturally able to blend in and not be seen, it was a useful talent that he used to its full extent.
Eventually, the boys got sick of searching for someone that wouldn't appear and went off to play football. Harry personally loved football, but he only ever got to play it in gym. If he even tried to play it during recess he would probably be jumped by Dudley's gang. Regardless of how skilled he seemed to be at the sport.
Slowly Harry crept out of his crouched position when he heard the bell ringing signalling recess as over. The boy moved quickly over to the school, but not too fast as to draw attention. Harry knew exactly the right way as to walk without sticking out from a crowd. It had to be casual, not forced.
He kept his head down, Harry knew that his bright green eyes were the only thing that stood out. They were vivid and slightly jaded and one glance was enough for them to stick in people's minds. Harry usually just tried to avoid them being seen. He easily avoided most eye contact.
Harry sat in the middle-back of the classroom. Close enough to see the board, yet not too far back that the teacher would think of him as one of the trouble-makers in the back of the class. It was the perfect position. Harry made sure to always turn in his homework too, especially after the blue-hair incident as he liked to call it.
Uncle Vernon got mad at him if he did better than Dudley, and Dudley was an idiot who barely passed and forced Harry to do his homework for him. So Harry made sure that his work was just slightly worse than the work he did for Dudley. It upset Harry, he knew he could do better in school- but he wasn't allowed to. He hoped that maybe at Stonewall High he would be able to do better without Dudley there forcing him to be at his level.
Harry knew that if he ever wanted a future away from the Dursleys he would have to do good in school so he could get a job that would take him far away from them. Harry was smart and realistic. He knew he would never be able to go to University. He had no money and the Dursleys would never pay for him to go to school. They only way would be to get a massive scholarship, but Harry thought the chances of him ever getting one were practically nonexistent. Who would ever give money to him when there were other, better people?
But, Harry knew that he had to at least try. He would be stuck with the Dursleys forever if he didn't do something. For now, he just planned on doing well in secondary school and maybe getting a job soon if his Uncle Vernon would let him. At least it would let him be out of that house.
Harry tried to focus on what his teacher was lecturing about, but it was difficult- he was so tired. Yesterday, Uncle Vernon had him repaint the entire shed and mow the lawn, it was exhausting.
Finally, after what felt like forever, school was over. Slowly, Harry gathered his belongings and placed them into his ratty old knapsack. He moved with the crowd outside the school. Harry spotted Aunt Petunia picking up Dudley in the parking lot and quickly avoided being seen by them. Aunt Petunia refused to drive him home- she wouldn't let the freak in her car unless it was absolutely necessary.
So Harry was forced to walk the two miles back to Privet Drive.
Harry didn't mind the walk, he never minded anything that let him be out of that house for a little bit longer. By the time Harry got home, his Aunt's car was already in the driveway.
Quietly, he opened the front door and slipped inside the house. He quickly put his knapsack in his cupboard before going to his Aunt who was lounging in the kitchen.
"Your list is on the counter. These floors better be clean enough to eat off of before Vernon gets home or there'll be no dinner tonight!" Aunt Petunia screeched at him, without looking away from the window she was peering out of. His Aunt loved knowing what her neighbors were doing, she lived off of gossip.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia." The boy answered politely. He grabbed the list before quietly sighing. It looked like it was going to be a long night tonight, and he also had a bunch of school work to do.
But, Harry hated that it was almost summer time. Only another month before school was out, and he was silently dreading the date. With school out he would spend all his time at the Dursleys, with no break and little hope for food. He only ever ate regularly at lunch everyday at school. Usually he would get some breakfast, but it was rare for him to do his chores good enough in order to get dinner. Most nights he was forced to cook the meal, then listen to them eat it from inside of his cupboard. It was especially bad during the summer when the Dursleys didn't have to worry about teachers noticing and asking questions.
Not that they did anymore. His Aunt and Uncle had told the school that he picked fights and was a nasty boy that got into trouble often. From then on the school never wondered about any of the bruises or discolorations sometimes spotted on him.
His Aunt had told his neighbors the same. But of course she added in how she had taken in her poor nephew out of the goodness of her heart. And the horrid trouble that he has caused her family by being such a nuisance and getting into fights. No one in the neighborhood thought to questioned the lies and now didn't wonder where all his bruises come from. He must just be especially troublesome during the summer.
Harry got right to work on the list of chores. It was long and would take Harry most of the night to complete. His Aunt liked to keep him busy so that he wouldn't be able to get into trouble or do anything freaky. The house was already spotless- his Aunt hated for anything to be dirty.
Eventually Harry started to make dinner and was sorely tempted to try and sneak some food. His stomach was grumbling loudly and making its need known. But, he didn't dare. The last time he attempted to sneak some food he was punished severely for it- and he didn't want to repeat it.
At six his Uncle got home and the boy automatically tensed. His Uncle didn't seem to be in a bad mood, but that could change quickly. The table was set, and dinner was almost ready to be served. All of the chores his Aunt wanted done before dinner were finished and while Harry didn't want to hope for dinner, he thought he might be able to get some tonight.
Dinner went as usual in the Dursley household. Harry served everyone food, and received the much anticipated nod that he was allowed to join them. The boy waited until everyone else filled their plates before taking as much food as he dared- which wasn't much. His Uncle always got mad if he ate too much, he had to be careful.
Dudley and Uncle Vernon had three helpings each before Harry cleared the table and brought out dessert. Harry was never allowed to have dessert. He was excused to go finish his chores and he quickly left to go garden and tend to the lawn. That was one of his favorite chores. He loved being outside, and he seemed to have a gift with flowers. They always bloomed for him.
When it was too dark for him to work anymore, and he had gotten most of the gardening done. Harry was called back inside by his Aunt.
"Boy! Get in here and shower! You reek."
"I'm coming, Aunt Petunia." He replied.
While Harry was on his way to the back door, he glanced up at the moon. It was a clear night, and the moon was full and bright. For just a moment he wished he could reach out and touch the moon. He wondered what it would feel like to fly. He would take to the sky and never come back, he would finally be free. With a wistful smile, Harry turned around and walked right back into the house he hated more than anything else. What he would give to fly.
The next day dawned bright and early for Harry.
Aunt Petunia would wake up an hour or so before her husband, time that she used to prepare herself for the day. Not that it helped her much, in Harry's opinion. The heavy makeup she wore did nothing to stop her face from looking so horse like and her dresses just seemed to accentuate her long neck. But, the boy never dared to voice these thoughts to her. Shortly after that though, she would bang on the door to Harry's cupboard.
"Up! Get up, Boy! And don't you dare burn the bacon again." She screeched while unlocking the door.
Harry nodded blandly, searching out some decent clothes in the darkness of the cupboard. His Uncle refused to put in a light, saying that he wouldn't waste money on the freak. Most of Harry's clothes used to belong to Dudley, and were only passed on to him when they were too old and worn for Dudley to wear anymore. The dwarfed his small frame, and many of them had holes and tears in them.
Opening the door to the cupboard, quietly Harry moved to the kitchen and started making breakfast. His moves were practiced and efficient.
Aunt Petunia was sitting at the table watching the telly and drinking her morning tea. She didn't glance at him as he worked. He greatly preferred it that way.
Eventually, his Aunt left the kitchen to go try and wake up Dudley again. She usually had to wake his cousin several times before he actually got up. He could make out his Aunt's high pitched voice as she pleaded with her son to wake up. Finally, bribing him with breakfast and a promise to visit the ice cream shop after school.
His cousin Dudley was a very large boy, and even though he was the same age as Harry, Dudley was as least 3 times bigger than him. He had wispy blonde hair, and two double chins. It was no wonder that Dudley's old clothes were practically falling off of Harry. The only way Harry managed to keep the pants up was to use some old rope he found in the shed as a belt. It didn't look good, but at least he didn't have to worry about his pants falling down all the time like he did before.
When his Aunt came down, she barked out at Harry, "Dudley wants his eggs over easy this morning." Harry nodded before starting to make the eggs, and set the toaster.
He set the table for three, and poured out drinks for his Uncle and Cousin before going back to check on the bacon. Harry couldn't risk burning it again. Subconsciously, Harry rubbed at a dark bruise on his arm.
His body naturally tensed when Uncle Vernon came into the kitchen. Harry hunched a little, and tried his best to blend into the background and be unseen. His Uncle didn't say anything to him, only grumbled a little to his wife about the news.
Quietly he placed the finished breakfast on the table, before cleaning up the kitchen. Washing the dishes was a mindless task, and his mind usually wandered while doing it.
Harry had a test today in English. It was one of his favorite classes, reading was something that came naturally to Harry and he was very good at it. Whenever his class went to the library at school he usually checked out as many books as he could. He enjoyed fantasy books the most, Harry spent most of his time daydreaming about having epic adventures saving the world like the people did in his books. It was fun and a way to forget about the Dursleys for a little bit.
Of course, he would have to fail his test today. Dudley was hopeless at English, and if he didn't want to be punished by Uncle Vernon he had to be hopeless too. Unconsciously, Harry sighed at the thought. He didn't like having to fail all of his classes.
"Boy!" His Uncle thundered. "Is something wrong?"
Quickly Harry, shook his head no. But, it was too late. His Uncle was already turning red in the face, and starting to pant heavily. A sure sign of his anger.
"I did- didn't mean to-" Harry was cut off by his Uncle wrapping his large meaty hand around his arm. Harry tried not to whimper at the pain. Uncle Vernon just got more upset if he voiced his pain.
"Of course, you didn't mean to. You never mean to do anything!" Uncle Vernon started to shake him roughly. "You ungrateful boy! We have provided everything for you! Food and clothing, and all we ask in return is for you to not be a lazy ingrate!"
Smack! Harry's head whipped to the side with the force of his Uncle's blow. "Vernon!" Petunia chastised. "Someone might see."
"No one cares, Pet." Vernon gruffly argued.
"Of course, no one cares about the boy. But, we still need to be careful. One of his teachers or the neighbors might become suspicious, they wouldn't understand." Petunia simpered.
Slowly his Uncle Vernon calmed down, the man then shoved Harry into the corner of the counter while muttering under his breath about 'ungrateful freaks.'
Harry rubbed his back where it hit the counter. It stung, but not nearly as much as his face did.
As his cousin Dudley finally entered the kitchen, Aunt Petunia screeched at the boy to go get cleaned up before school.
Nodding, Harry quickly walked to the bathroom upstairs. Staring at himself in the mirror, Harry examined his face for damage. It wasn't too bad, just a slowly darkening mark on his cheek. It could've been much worse. What was he thinking, sighing like that? Uncle Vernon always took offense to things like that, anything that might make it seem like Harry was ungrateful for being taken in by the Dursleys.
Harry quickly washed his face, and attempted to straighten up his untidy hair- but his hair was as hopeless as always. Glancing at the clock in the bathroom, Harry knew he had to move quickly if he didn't want to be late to school. It was a long walk and he had to get going, his teacher would be mad if he was late again. He would most likely get a detention, and he didn't even want to think about what his Uncle would do to him. In his experience it was best not to think about it.
The morning was chilly, and his thin t-shirt did little to protect him from the cold air. He walked briskly, but even then he barely made it to class on time. Luckily for once, he was able to slip into the classroom without anyone noticing.
He listened carefully to his teachers all morning. But especially he listened to his maths teacher, Mr. Baker. Harry liked Mr. Baker, he was one of his favorite teachers so far. Mr. Baker had a wicked sense of humor, yet he obviously cared about all of his students and tried to get everyone to succeed. He had even held back Harry several times after class to talk about his school work, and the various ways that Harry could get help in order to do better in his class. Even going so far as to offer after school tutoring.
Harry knew he could never accept any of his teacher's offers, but it felt nice to be offered them anyway.
When the bell for lunch came, Harry got up to leave with the rest of the class. Before he could go anywhere though, he was stopped.
"Mr. Potter, could I speak to you for a moment?" Mr. Baker called out.
"Oooooooooooh, Potty's in trouble!" Some boy shouted in the crowd and everyone laughed. Harry just tried to ignore it.
They waited for everyone to be gone, before Harry said, "Yes, sir?"
"Mr. Potter, I'm concerned about that mark on your forehead, what happened?" Mr. Baker questioned.
"Oh this? Sir." Harry pointed up to his head in a careless gesture, trying to ignore the racing of his heart. "This is nothing, I got it this morning when I tripped over a stick on my walk to school." Harry laughed like he was making fun of his own clumsiness.
Mr. Baker narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure, Harry? You know you can tell me anything." Harry just nodded.
Mr. Baker scrutinized the boy. "What happened to your arm then, don't tell me you got that tripping too?"
Harry gulped. His mind racing. "No, umm- I was- I was running through the kitchen, but my Aunt had just mopped the floors and I didn't know that, and as I started to fall my Uncle grabbed my arm to save me. That's all that happened, sir."
His teacher allowed some of his skepticism to shine through on his face. "Uh huh, well Harry, if you're sure you have nothing that you want to talk to me about…" He waited a second for Harry to speak. "Then I guess you are free to go to lunch."
Harry nodded to his teacher, and tried not to sigh in relief when he was allowed to go. That was way too close. No one could ever figure out what his Uncle did to him, it would just result in a lot of trouble- for him.
Harry ate his usual meagre lunch in the corner of the cafeteria before hurrying outside to his hiding place. He did not want to get caught by Dudley and his gang today. It was already turning into a bad enough day as it was.
The boy tried not to think too much on what his teacher had said to him. But, the words kept floating back to him in his head. 'You can tell me anything' he said… Did Mr. Baker know? It was impossible to tell. Maybe he really was just concerned, maybe Mr. Baker was worried that Harry was being bullied or something, that was very likely. In fact, the more that Harry thought about it, the more he believed that Mr. Baker was probably just worried about Harry getting beat up at school. There was absolutely no way that he could know anything about went on at home. Besides that was private, and none of his business.
The rest of the day flew by, and before Harry was ready for it he was already on his way back home. He tried to stretch out the walk as long as possible, but he knew his Aunt would just get mad if he was home too late. It seemed like everything he did lately got some person or another mad at him in some way.
The house was deserted when he got, he had forgotten that his Aunt was going to take Dudley to get ice cream after school. It was very rare for Harry to be home alone, the Dursleys rarely trusted him to be in their home with no one there. Usually he was sent to stay with Mrs. Figg, a neighbor with a million cats, and he spent the whole time looking at pictures of them all.
Harry went to the kitchen to see if there was a list of chores for him to accomplish. There wasn't. Strange, he thought. They never forget to give him chores to do. Harry tried not of all of the bad things that could happen and instead decided to do his homework for once.
He didn't have very much, but it felt nice to be able to do it outside of his cupboard and with actual light to see with.
By the time he was done, his Aunt should've been home already. She wasn't. Harry didn't know what to do… His Aunt didn't leave any work for him to do, but he knew he would be in trouble if he wasn't working when she got home.
Finally, he decided to just go work in the garden until they got home. Despite being forced to work in the garden, Harry grew to deeply love tending to plants and watching them grow and bloom. It was easily his favorite chore.
It was a beautiful spring day, with just a slight breeze and enough sun so that Harry didn't cold working outside. He kept working for the next couple of hours, until he couldn't ignore that none of the Dursleys were home yet when they should have been home hours ago.
It was worrying. Did they abandon him? Harry didn't like his relatives, but as they constantly reminded him- they were all he had. If they just left him, what would happen to him? Most likely he'd be forced to go to one of the orphanages his Uncle was always threatening to send him to… He had heard so many horror tales about them that Harry was terrified of ever going to one.
Finally, it became too dark to work anymore. The sun had set, and Harry's stomach was growling fiercely. Harry was used to not getting dinner, but that didn't make the hunger pains ache any less. Harry gave up on gardening for the night, and after putting all the tools in the shed, made his way to the kitchen.
After making absolutely sure that there were no Dursleys anywhere in the house or nearby vicinity, Harry opened the fridge. He only took leftovers, and only a little bit. Hopefully enough to tide him over, but not enough for anyone to know he took some. It was a fine line that he had to walk, but Harry believed he managed it okay.
Harry ate quickly, praying the whole time that his relatives would stay away until he was finished. They had this nasty habit of always catching Harry when he was doing something wrong. It was horrible.
Glancing at the clock, Harry realized just how late it was. They should be home by now. Something was wrong, and Harry had no idea what to do. Harry bit his lip with indecision. Deciding that waiting and acting like nothing was wrong would be the best idea, Harry went through his usual nightly routine.
He took a shower, although it was much longer than his usual showers were. The Dursleys would bang on the bathroom door whenever he went over five minutes, so Harry made full use of his opportunity to indulge himself. Who knew when it would happen again.
Afterwards, he crept downstairs into his cupboard. If the Dursleys came home in the middle of the night and he wasn't there… the punishment would be severe.
His cupboard was small and dark. Just like always.
Harry slept on an old mattress pad. It smelled slightly like dog and was worn through in several places, but it was better than sleeping on the ground. There was a small vent that provided air ventilation, even though it was usually closed. There were two shelves on the wall, where he kept his clothes and random things he's gathered throughout the years that Dudley has either thrown away or broken. Harry also had an old blanket that did little to prevent the chill during the winter, but provided nice cushion during the summer heat.
His cupboard wasn't much, but at least it was his.
Harry was used to spending long periods of time in the confined space. At least he wasn't claustrophobic. His Uncle would lock him into the tiny room when there was company over, or if he was being punished for some reason or another. After the blue-hair incident Harry wasn't allowed to leave the cupboard except for bathroom breaks for the entire week that he was suspended. It was pretty miserable.
Whenever something weird or strange happened to Harry, long periods of time in the cupboard was usually the better end of the punishment. His Uncle despised anything that wasn't 'normal'. And Harry definitely wasn't normal.
Harry didn't know why, but sometimes things just happened to him. All he wanted to do was to blend in, to not stand out anymore than he already did. But, then something impossible would happen to him. For instance, the blue-hair incident.
It was two years ago, and Harry had had a truly awful teacher. Mrs. Maurer had absolutely hated Harry, more deeply than any other teacher ever has before. Harry believed that it had something to do with the fact that Mrs. Maurer was a good friend of his Aunt, and his Aunt had constantly told her lies about him.
But, one day Harry had been late to school because it had been storming and the wind was blowing strongly at him. He ended up being 20 minutes late for class, and had arrived completely soaked, and he had forgotten his homework at the Dursleys. It was safe to say that she had been furious.
Mrs. Maurer had started yelling at Harry and refused the let the boy explain himself. Harry had been so embarrassed, he greatly disliked attention and everyone in the class had been staring and laughing at him. He just wanted her to stop.
He kept his eyes lowered. Hoping that maybe she would take it as his submission and stop yelling at him. When all the sudden everyone in the class burst out into laughter causing Harry to look up. He paled in horror and disbelief.
Mrs. Maurer's hair had turned blue! It was completely crazy, yet the evidence was right in front of his eyes.
Mrs. Maurer heard everyone laughing, and looked questioningly at a girl in the front row. "What is the meaning of this?" She demanded.
"Your hair, ma'am." The girl choked out.
"What about my hair?" His teacher shrieked while putting a hand up to her head.
A boy in the back row answered her. "It's blue!"
"What?" Confusion marred her face. Finally she grabbed her purse and searched for a compact mirror. Her face paled when she saw her hair. She glanced around the room in fury.
Everyone was laughing, except for Harry who was looking at her while pale and trembling. Immediately she deemed him the guilty party and dragged Harry off to the principal's office. Harry had a stern lecture from the man, and Uncle Vernon was called to pick him up.
His Uncle had been so furious, that his face turned a horrid shade of purple. Harry was terrified. After the punishment he had received, he was glad to be able to spend the next week in the cupboard. It was better being in there than outside with his Uncle. Even if he hadn't been suspended for the week, his Aunt never would have let him go back to school. They never did when he looked so bad, they didn't want any suspicion to be cast onto the family.
When he did finally go back to school, Harry was more ostracized than normal. Dudley had spread horrible rumors about his freakishness, and now no one would even talk to him. People avoided him whenever he went somewhere.
Harry had hated it. He didn't like all the attention that people were giving him, it was much harder to blend in when everyone was afraid of him. People notice things that they're afraid of.
Eventually, everyone calmed down though. No one would talk to him anymore, but he wasn't as openly feared by the school. Things went back to normal, what with him being ignored and skating by unnoticed. In a weird way, for Harry, ignorance really was bliss. At least it was better than being acknowledged.
But, his Aunt and Uncle never forgot the incident. After that they muttered more and more about his freakishness, and started to talk about 'his kind' when referring to Harry. Harry had no idea what they were talking about, he didn't have a kind…
His Uncle had been much worse to him since then. Before he used to just yank him around a bit, and yell at him a lot. Afterwards, his Uncle became much more violent and physical. It frightened Harry.
His Aunt did nothing about her husband's behavior. If anything, she approved of it. Except for when it was visible. His Aunt was all about appearances.
Dudley was ignorant to the worst of it. His parents tried their best to shield him from the 'freak', but he did catch some of it. He encouraged his Dad on most of the time, and did his best to emulate his father with his gang.
Since then, Harry had done several more freakish things.
Once when his Aunt had gotten sick of his unruly hair, she had hacked it all off. Harry had spent all night dreading what everyone would say about it tomorrow at school. He would never blend in with such a horrible hair style. But, when he woke up his hair had grown back- all of it. It was like his hair had never been cut off in the first place.
His Uncle had been furious at him for this display of freakishness. It didn't help when Harry had said that he didn't do anything, that it just happened! If anything that had just made his Uncle madder.
Or another time, Harry had been running from Dudley's gang who had discovered his latest hiding place. Harry was terrified of being caught by them- he had enough bruises already. Even though he was running as fast as he could away from them, he knew that it wouldn't be good enough. One of them was really fast, the fastest player on the football team. Harry knew that he would catch him. He was running by the back of the school when he wished that they wouldn't be able to catch him.
The next thing he knew, Harry was on the roof of the school! He had no idea how he had gotten there, it was like magic! The gang never did find him. But, eventually a school janitor had to get a ladder so that Harry could get down from the roof, his Uncle had again been called and Harry had been punished again.
Harry tried really hard not to do anything freakish… he just couldn't help it. The weird things just seemed to happen naturally.
As Harry laid in the dark he prayed that the Dursleys would never return. That they would just leave him alone forever. And that instead of being sent to an orphanage, some distant relative would come to take him in. That they would go and live far away, and that Harry would never have to see the Dursleys ever again. It was a nice dream, and Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face.
A slamming door woke Harry from sleep.
He jolted awake, his heart pounding. Harry didn't move. He stayed completely still in the darkness of his little cupboard.
"Boy!" A loud voice grumbled. "Get out here!" Harry's heart sank when he heard his Uncle's voice. The man sounded drunk and angry.
With no choice, Harry left the cupboard. His Uncle was stumbling towards him with murder in his eyes. "You!" He thundered. Stepping closer and closer to Harry. The boy could smell the booze from where he was standing. His heart pounded with fear.
"You did this!" Red faced, Vernon advanced on Harry and grabbed his arms tightly. Harry cringed away, and tried to hold back a whimper at the pain.
Vernon jabbed a finger at Harry's chest. "This is all yourrr fault!" The man slurred.
"Wha- What did I do?" Harry questioned.
"You and your kind did thiss!" Uncle Vernon hissed in the boy's face. He yanked Harry's arms behind his back in a tight grip.
Fear flooded through Harry. What would his Uncle do? He hadn't done anything, but the man obviously didn't believe that.
"I did- didn't do anything!" Harry choked out.
"Don't lie, boy!" Vernon screamed. "I know that it was you!" The large man gripped Harry's arm tighter behind the boy's back. Before flinging the boy away in disgust.
Harry landed on his arm with a loud crack! Harry gasped. Pain like he had never felt before burst through his arm.
Vernon seemed to realize what he had done. The man stilled, but his face was still red with his fury.
"That was your own fault, boy!" Vernon roared. "Go! Get out of my sight!"
Harry stumbled backwards. He practically fell into his cupboard. Then his Uncle was there.
"You will pay for what you have done!" The man yelled before slamming the door closed. Harry could hear the click of the locks being bolted shut.
Alone in the dark, his arm hurt worse than before. It was painfully throbbing with every beat of his heart. Harry held it tenderly to his chest, in an attempt to shelter it.
He gently probed his arm with his left hand, a sharp throb of pain burst through what seemed like the entire right side of his body. Harry feared that his Uncle had broken his right arm.
Vernon had never broken anything before. At least nothing of importance. Harry thinks that one time his Uncle broke a toe or something, but that wasn't too bad. But, if his right arm was broken? That would be terrible. He could barely move the arm at all without experiencing horrible pain. How would he ever get his chores done with a broken arm? What would he do?
Harry had never seen his Uncle so mad at him before. He had no idea what the man was so angry about, though. Harry didn't do anything. But, whatever it was that his Uncle was mad about must have been terrible.
That brought another question to mind. Where was his Aunt and Cousin? Why didn't they come home with Vernon? Did something happen to them? Was that why his Uncle was so upset?
Harry had no idea, but these thoughts kept circling around his head. All he wanted to do was sleep, but his throbbing arm wouldn't let him. He had never experienced pain so sharp before, but he didn't dare make a sound. That would only make it worse.
So, the boy just hunkered down in his cupboard. He tried to hold the broken appendage tight to his body and he shielded it with his other arm. It would have to do for now, maybe he could do something about it in the morning.
The boy had slept restlessly for the rest of the night. He always slept lightly, but that night was worse than usual. His fear of his Uncle coming back haunting his dreams.