Looks around for my muse Ok, there she is now I can write.

Raven: Why am I here?

Dramatic: So you can say the disclaimer, and help me write.

Raven: I'm not your slave.

Dramatic: Technically you are, so just say the disclaimer already.

(Raven takes her curved dagger from her belt.)

Raven: You want try saying that again? (Takes a step towards Dramatic)

Dramatic: Um, ya I think I'm gonna run now. But just so ya know, I don't own Harry Potter just this plot. (Dramatic runs, Raven following)

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As soon as Harry heard the creaking of the stairs, he stashed the pen-knife under his pillow, and quickly busied himself with reading The Prophet. The knob in the door turned and in stepped Vernon Dursley. Setting the paper down, Harry turned to look at his Uncle.

"You are not to leave this room while Petunia, Dudley, and I are out."

(Pff, like I care. I'll have some time to myself.) "Whatever" He said turning away.

But suddenly Harry found himself slammed into the wall, Vernon's red face glaring into the teens. "Don't back talk me boy." Harry glared back and just couldn't contain himself. "I'm sorry was whatever to big for you to understand? Should I have said, I don't give a shit?"

Seconds later he was flung at the wardrobe. His back and head smacked the corner, and he collapsed to the floor. His eyes watering as pain shot up his spine and into his head. Vernon glared into Harry's face spitting as he talked.

"I don't have time for you right now, so when we get back you'd better be good and ready for your real beating." And with that he turned and left, clicking the locks into place. Harry didn't move from his spot on the floor until the slamming of car doors and the crunching gravel signaled the Dursley's departure.

Finally sitting up he rubbed the back of his head. (Yep there's definitely a bump there. Oh well, that's nothing compared to what I'm gonna get later.) Harry knew he had asked for it, but he really didn't care anymore. Sighing he picked himself up and flopped onto the bed.

Emerald eyes turned their gaze to the setting sun out his window. He unconsciously slid his hand under his pillow and drew the pen-knife Sirius had given him. He fiddled with it between his fingers before looking down at it and flicking the blade out. He admired how beautifully the sun's disappearing light glinted off it.

Harry ran a finger down the side of the blade. He'd heard about cutting, and wondered if there was any truth to the relief that was promised from it. Harry knew he wasn't suicidal, he was just tired of the horrifying dreams he experienced each night as he slept. Tired of being the boy who lived, tired of being the one to save the world, tired of the beatings from his uncle, and especially tired of being left in the dark by Dumbledore.

Harry was extremely irritated that the old coot would just leave him to go back to the Dursley's, even after all the work they had done through his 6th year finding all the Horcruxes and destroying them, with the exception of Nagini. Ever since then Harry had been on guard almost constantly. He was worried hat Voldemort would be even more insistant that he find Harry, now that he was almost mortal. He still had a few weeks until he turned 17, so therefore the protection on this hell hole was still active.

He sighed again and folded the blade back into its handle. Harry rolled of his bed and placed the knife back in his trunk. Turning to the window he gazed out of it wishing Hedwig were here to keep him company. But she was off at Ron's because Harry honestly didn't think his uncle would deal with "that bloody bird" another summer.

(The neighborhood seems so much more at peace beneath the stars.) Harry really did appreciate the darkness. It was calming and easy to hide within it. But nighttime did have it's faults as well. At night Harry was always tormented with dreams of Sirius blaming him for his death as he fell behind the veil. If it wasn't that it was the graveyard or different versions of each of his friends dying. There were even times when Voldemort would pay a visit to his mind and torment him.

Harry came out of his revere when he heard the Dursley's crunching footsteps up the walkway. He hadn't even heard the car doors. He quickly turned out the light in his bedroom, and flung himself on the bed, pretending to be asleep. He hoped that his uncle had forgotten about the promised beating.

He heard his Aunt and cousin slip into there own rooms. Harry wondered where his Uncle was, until he heard his footsteps on the stairs, and tensed as he heard the knob turn.

Vernon Dursley stomped to his nephew's bed and yanked Harry up by the scruff of his neck, throwing him to the floor. Harry simply sat himself up on his knees and faced the wall. He knew what was coming.

Vaguely he heard Vernon undoing his belt, and sliding it from his pants. "Take your shirt off." His uncle growled. Harry deafly obeyed and slid his shirt off his back.

Above him he heard the belt crack; he flinched and tensed even more waiting for the first hit. Behind him his uncle laughed at his reaction. Eyes shut tight, Harry waited with bated breath for the sting. Minutes passed and he began to wonder if Vernon had left. Listening carefully he tried to see if he could hear anything, but he was greeted with silence.

He began to relax, when unexpectedly he felt the belt come down on his back, slicing into the skin. He let out a surprised gasp. His uncle had purposely been quiet to lure Harry to think he was okay.

The pain slowly started to ebb away, and out of the corner of his eye he saw his uncle rear back to strike again. Harry jammed his eyes shut. Crack! The second lash came and he grit his teeth, fighting back tears. Making noise would only make it worse.

Crack! Three. Crack! Four. The hits just kept coming, Harry soon lost count. And it wasn't long before he felt the blood begin to run down his back. Silent tears now freely streaming down his face. But the belt continued to bite into him, and his body began to tremble, struggling to remain upright.

Just when Harry thought there would be no end, the onslaught ceased. He couldn't hold up anymore and he crumpled to the floor, his breathing ragged and uneven. "Let that be a reminder." Vernon snorted, then he turned and left.

Harry continued to lay where he fell. He knew he had to clean up the blood, otherwise he'd just earn himself another beating. But his entire body ached, and his vision blurred in and out of focus until it finally went black.

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Raven: Dramatic is a bit tied up at the moment, so I'm closing this chapter. Hm, it is a bit dark for Harry Potter, but I personally like it.

Dramatic: (distantly) Let Me Go Raven!!!!!

Raven: (thinks for a moment) Um, no I don't think I will yet.

Dramatic: But I need to write the next chapter!!!!! PLEASE!! Come on. Okay, I'm sorry I about what I said. Now untie me already!!!!

Raven: No, I still don't think I will.

Dramatic: Fine if your not gonna let me go then tell them abo…

Raven: Yes, yes. Just an FYI these little things (...) represent a character's thoughts. Till I let lose the writer, Bye.