Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter or Gargoyles is mine
I hope you enjoy this story that I got from katie13 (yes another one) that she said that she had never put up on this site.
Chapter 1
Harry and his friends walked off the train and entered into the muggles' realm of King's Cross. As soon as they did Mrs. Weasley spotted them and gave them all a hug, asking them the usual stuff about school. After some more minutes of polite conversation and tearful goodbyes, Harry started to walk away from his friends, looking for his aunt and uncle.
Harry spotted them almost immediately; they were hard to miss even in the crowd of people: Uncle Vernon with his monstrous purple face and Aunt Petunia with her giraffe-like neck.
Harry sighed and went over to them.
"Come on boy!" Ordered Uncle Vernon, glaring at his nephew.
Harry sighed dejectedly. He could already sense that the holidays were going to be terrible.
"Yes sir." Harry replied obediently, as was expected of him.
Aunt Petunia, too, glared at Harry with disgust and hate in her eyes, "Now!" she hissed.
Harry's aunt and uncle got into their car and watched as Harry stashed his luggage in the trunk, not bothering to help their nephew. But then again, Harry didn't really expect them to.
The car ride was silent as they made their way back to Number Four, Privet Drive.
When they arrived, everyone got out of the car, and right away Uncle Vernon ordered Harry: "Boy, move your lazy butt and take your things to Dudley's second bedroom."
"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry replied. He grabbed his luggage and made his way up the stairs.
The trunk was incredibly heavy, and of course none of the Dursleys bothered to help Harry with it. By the time he had arrived in his room, he was bathed in sweat and breathing hard.
Since he had nothing better to do, Harry started to unpack his trunk and put his tings away into the closet.
Once Harry was settled in his room, he heard a loud stomping up the steps. Harry placed his parchment and quills on the desk.
'Uncle Vernon', thought Harry.
The door burst open and in came Vernon, holding a letter, and Harry detected the stench of alcohol on his breath.
Harry backed away quickly. Uncle Vernon when he was sober was one thing, but Uncle Vernon when he was drunk was downright dangerous- especially when you were a certain black-haired, green-eyed boy, known as the bane of said uncle's existence.
"So," Uncle Vernon snarled, a mad glint in his eyes, as he advanced on Harry, "Because of you I can't sell MY HOUSE!" he finished in a roar.
Harry's
legs hit the bed and he fell down onto it.
"What?" Harry
didn't understand what Uncle Vernon was talking about. By now, his
uncle was standing directly in front of Harry. Harry shrank back on
the bed in fear.
Before Harry had any chance to defend himself of to even comprehend what was happening, Uncle Vernon had backhanded him and thrown him onto the floor.
The next punch came to his stomach and Harry groaned in pain, curling up into a fetal position, trying to protect himself as good as possible.
Uncle Vernon did not stop when Harry begged for mercy; he beat and kicked his nephew until Harry passed out from being thrown into a wall. He had a cut on his forehead, and blood was trickling down.
Vernon smiled maliciously at the still figure on the ground and stepped over his nephew. Then he left the room and locked the door behind him.
~*~
It was silent in the house of #4, Privet Drive. All its occupants had gone to bed and were snoring happily in their beds, all but one- Harry. Harry was still unconscious, lying on the floor of Dudley's second bedroom.
Suddenly, the window flew open and an unnatural, strong gust of wind came into the room.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, the still form of Harry Potter suddenly began to glow with a brilliant blue light.
From what could be seen of Harry's injuries through his torn and ripped clothing, all the cuts and injured muscles were healing slowly, leaving no trace that there had ever been anything but smooth skin.
So, do you like? Should I continue?
Please rate and review ^-^