DISCLAIMER: I do not, nor pretend to own, or take money from, anything you recognise as someone elses work.

drip, drip

They say that in death there is a moment of perfect clarity. When you have all the answers, you see all the cards, and you finally realise how shit your life has really been.

drip, drip

For Harry Potter this came as a savage blow as the crimson nectar that was his one remaining anchor to the world fell, into a pool of savage irony on the floor.

drip, drip

And either shall die at the hand of the other….. Well he'd prove that for the crock of bull that it was. He was finished with the war, finished with the lies, with the hate.

drip, drip

And then there is the light at the end of the tunnel, the point of release. The end of the pain, it was so close…just there…right there…so simple…so easy…

drip, drip

But unfortunately for soon to be 16-year-old boy-who-just-won't-die his life was neither simple nor easy, and had only reached knew highest of cruelty at the end of the past year.

Flashback

WHACK

A sound not to be soon forgotten by the cringing teen. It was the sound created by leather striking flesh, of steel belt hooks piercing skin and laying open deep welts across a pale, scarred back.

"That'll teach you, you little FREAK," bellowed an enraged Vernon.

WHACK

WHACK

WHACK

"Now you'll right this bloody letter to your freaky little friends," puffed an exhausted Vernon, "and then into your cupboard and Dudley can have his fun."

Dudley can have his fun.

Have his fun.

His fun.

Fun.

Little words that meant so much.

Little words that echoed around the emptiness inside Harry's soul, emptiness caused by the loss of his Godfather. Loss brought on by his own stupidity.

He knew he could postpone the letter, delay the pain, or even "forget" to send them, three days and Dumbledore's beloved Order would be there to save him. But it wouldn't stop the inevitable. That Dudley would, as always, have his fun.

Dudley's fun varied. At first it was just using Harry as a punching bag. Then Dudley was given a pool cue. That was fun. After he shattered it over Harry's back and rib cage he decided to violate Harry with the end. That introduced a whole new realm of fun Dudley could have.

End Flashback

Yet no matter how many times Harry had to survive a pounding from Dudley, or worse, Vernon, whose bodily girth extended to his nether regions, he could not bring himself to hate them. For they were at least honest in their loathing.

It was after three weeks of "forgotten" letters that the Order decided to check up on their perfect weapon. And it was there that young Nymphadora Tonks, humble servant to the almighty Dumblefuck found him wedged in a box with his wand and a waterproof letter up his arse.

It turned out the prophecy was correct, only the hand of one could kill the other, because for the boy-who-just-can't-get-enough-pain not even becoming a desiccated shell was enough to kill the Puppet Harry Potter, only enough to kill his will to live.