Harry Potter had an uncle. His name was Vernon Dursley. Unfortunately, Mr. Dursley was not a very nice person. In fact, one could say he was one of the worst sorts of people that have ever existed, and Harry knew it all to well.
"Get out of the car Boy!" Vernon hissed at his nephew, hauling him ruthlessly out of the vehicle by the scruff of his neck.
Harry gave a small yelp of pain as his swollen arm was knocked brutally against the grungy car park cement. 'But of course, he wouldn't care about that' Harry thought bitterly. 'When has he ever even spared me a glance? His favorite nephew' Harry rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. Sarcasm, he'd found, helped smother his emotions, dulled the pain. And there'd been plenty of that.
It had been a long two months, and Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had defiantly changed. Gone was the bashful, slightly awkward boy of the past, now he acted more like a machine than anything else. His face was blank and impassive, registering only the most intense emotions, and then only fleetingly. He cooked, he cleaned, he slept, he ate, sometimes, and, oh yes, got knocked about by his uncle. Joy.
The car door slammed angrily, and Harry felt the whoosh of air from the door ruffle his thick black hair. That was close. Still kneeling on the pavement, cradling his arm to his chest, Harry began to formulate a plan. It consisted mainly of getting the hell away from Vernon as fast as possible. So, maybe it wasn't an entirely new plan. It'd worked every time in the past.
Vernon's shiny leather Dock Martins slapped heavily against the concert and Harry could hear his uncle's heavy wheezing breaths closing in. 'Okay, time to blow this popsicle stand. Mission Impossible, take one.'
Ignoring the ache of his ribs as they were jarred against the ground, Harry quickly ducked into a summersault and rolled around to the other side of the car, in a clumsy imitation of the 'good-guy' getaway. He would've snorted at the irony of it all, if the pressure on his battered ribs hadn't completely winded him. 'Some good-guy I turned out to be'. Harry thought cynically, while he struggled to compose his shallow breathing. His thoughts continued on their well worn track while he fought to ignore the throbbing in, well, everywhere. Bruises were nothing new.
The scraped hand would be harder to hide however. He quickly tugged some extra fabric from the huge shirt to tuck around the damaged appendage. The white cloth slowly darkened to vivid crimson. Great.
His thoughts continued upon their downward spiral. 'Just look at all the good I've done, first Cedric, then Sirius!' The pain in his chest intensified and he felt a familiar stinging behind his eyes, but he knew it had nothing to do with his aching torso. 'Think happy thoughts.' He reminded himself clinically, but the mantra sounded fake and empty even in his own head. 'Ah fuck it. Just get to the platform!' There. That was better. 'Just get to the platform.'
Vernon rounded the opposite bumper. Crouching low Harry clearly heard his uncle curse as he realized that Harry had rolled away.
"You won't get away from me that easily freak!" Vernon bellowed as he waddled faster, intent on catching his wayward nephew. "Where are you going to go anyhow? You're a worthless freak; all you ever do is hurt people!" A rather large purple vein was popping out of his forehead, pulsing in time with his accelerated heartbeat.
'I hope it bursts.' Harry thought spitefully, having finally regained some sense of control over his battered body. Then, hugging his bad arm securely to his side, Harry sprung wildly upwards and dashed as fast as he could towards the car parks' exit. The entrance to King's Cross station. His ticket to freedom. There was no way Vernon could catch him now. The man could hardly pull himself out of a car for Merlin's sake.
Yanking the heavy door to the station as hard as his shaky arms would allow Harry threw himself into the entry, and continued running single-mindedly towards his goal. 'The barrier. Just get to the platform!'
That single thought was all that'd been driving Harry for weeks now, keeping him alive, keeping him sane. 'I must get to Hogwarts; just get to the platform.' He was prepared to do whatever it took. Hogwarts was the only place he was safe. Screw Dumbledore, forget his stupid orders. Anywhere had to be safer than where he was, with his uncle. Hell, he'd take Voldemort any day given the choice. Vernon was just so...the things he did were.... He couldn't think about it.
'Just get to the platform.'
Besides, if Dumbledore had known what was going on he'd have wanted Harry to come back. If he'd known what was happening he never would have left Harry on Privet Drive with them. Would he? Harry wasn't completely sure anymore.
In fact, Harry had begun to doubt a lot of things, and his candy loving Headmaster was on top of the list. The summer had defiantly changed his perspective. Being shut up in a cupboard for weeks at a time gave you lots of instance to think, that was for sure. It had taken copious amounts of time, and some serious introspection, but once he gotten past the phase of denial it was painfully obvious to Harry how the Headmaster had been manipulating him from day one.
In retrospect it was a mystery how he'd never noticed it before. The innocuous little trail of clues Dumbledore had scattered before them in their first year. The miraculous appearance of the sword of Gryffindor in the Chamber of Secrets. Okay, Harry was still convinced that third year had been genuine, it was Sirius after all, but the Goblet of Fire?!? Come on! Dumbledore hadn't even tried to help him get out of it. If he'd thought the man lacked subtlety before, there was certainly no question now. If anything, Dumbledore had encouraged Harry to continue and compete, and risk his life.
'And the lives of other students.' The unwanted thought flashed through Harry's mind, but despite its brevity, it lacked nothing in intensity.
Tombstones. Wormtail. Cauldron. Blood. Voldemort. Cedric. Avada Kedavra.
Avada Kedavra.
The gruesome flashback was accompanied by a painful clench in his gut. 'Cedric. All my fault.' It felt like his breakfast was trying to make a come-back. If he'd had breakfast that is, or any other meal in the last four days for that matter. Not bloody likely.
So deep in thought was he that Harry completely forgot to watch where he was running.
"Oof!" Hot white spikes of pain drove down Harry's sides as he hit the ground hard for the second time that day, butt bouncing none to easily against the gum-speckled concrete.
His hands immediately clutched at his chest, trying to support his ribs, and lessen the pain. But in his haste Harry forgot to cross his arms in that special way he'd learned, and the puffy one ended up being squeezed painfully between his chest and his right forearm.
Black spots danced before Harry's eyes, and it took all his will power not to gasp harshly, and put even more strain on his ribs, beginning the cycle all over again. 'It'd taken awhile to learn that one too.' thought Harry bitterly. After a moment the haziness around the edges of his vision faded, and Harry drew a shaky breath, taking stock of himself.
Though momentarily jolted, the hot flares of pain in his ribs would subside, he knew that well enough. His bruises would defiantly be leaving a shade darker than they started. But the make-shift bandage on his hand had held, and saved it from further injury!
His first happy thought of the day was quickly drowned by the feeling of his broken arm, or rather the lack thereof. Though it was a pleasant break form its habitual throbs of agony, the numb, tingly feeling from the fracture down could not be a good sign. 'The bones must've shifted and pinched a nerve.' Harry thought despairingly, while grimacing at the offending limb.
It'd happened before, when he was seven. Vernon had pushed him aside especially hard one morning, and his frail bone had snapped. It'd been his first broken bone. After a quick, and rather sloppy, splint job Harry'd gotten back to work scrubbing the kitchen floor with tears in his eyes. The real damage happened later that day when Dudley had come home from his friend's house. Seeing Harry cradling his arm so protectively to his chest, Dudley just couldn't help himself. One shove later the same tingly feeling had enveloped his arm, the right one that time. It hadn't stopped for weeks, and Harry'd eventually been forced to ask his Aunt Petunia for help. The memory alone made him shiver. Harry stuck by his belief that rebreaking a bone could not aid the healing process in any way. To bad the doctor hadn't been of the same mind.
Getting to Hogwarts was not an option anymore. Now it was a requirement. He had to get his arm splinted properly. No more half-assed kitchen spoon jobs. When he arrived he would snap up some of his famous healing potion, and a batch of Skele-Gro for good measure. Those ribs were giving him more trouble than they were worth.
Having come to a decision and completed the cursory corporeal inspection Harry tilted his head skyward to see what had caused his impromptu date with gravity. To say he was shocked beyond belief would be the understatement of the century. Scratch that, of the millennium. A.N.Guess who! review review review review review review review!!!
"Get out of the car Boy!" Vernon hissed at his nephew, hauling him ruthlessly out of the vehicle by the scruff of his neck.
Harry gave a small yelp of pain as his swollen arm was knocked brutally against the grungy car park cement. 'But of course, he wouldn't care about that' Harry thought bitterly. 'When has he ever even spared me a glance? His favorite nephew' Harry rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. Sarcasm, he'd found, helped smother his emotions, dulled the pain. And there'd been plenty of that.
It had been a long two months, and Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had defiantly changed. Gone was the bashful, slightly awkward boy of the past, now he acted more like a machine than anything else. His face was blank and impassive, registering only the most intense emotions, and then only fleetingly. He cooked, he cleaned, he slept, he ate, sometimes, and, oh yes, got knocked about by his uncle. Joy.
The car door slammed angrily, and Harry felt the whoosh of air from the door ruffle his thick black hair. That was close. Still kneeling on the pavement, cradling his arm to his chest, Harry began to formulate a plan. It consisted mainly of getting the hell away from Vernon as fast as possible. So, maybe it wasn't an entirely new plan. It'd worked every time in the past.
Vernon's shiny leather Dock Martins slapped heavily against the concert and Harry could hear his uncle's heavy wheezing breaths closing in. 'Okay, time to blow this popsicle stand. Mission Impossible, take one.'
Ignoring the ache of his ribs as they were jarred against the ground, Harry quickly ducked into a summersault and rolled around to the other side of the car, in a clumsy imitation of the 'good-guy' getaway. He would've snorted at the irony of it all, if the pressure on his battered ribs hadn't completely winded him. 'Some good-guy I turned out to be'. Harry thought cynically, while he struggled to compose his shallow breathing. His thoughts continued on their well worn track while he fought to ignore the throbbing in, well, everywhere. Bruises were nothing new.
The scraped hand would be harder to hide however. He quickly tugged some extra fabric from the huge shirt to tuck around the damaged appendage. The white cloth slowly darkened to vivid crimson. Great.
His thoughts continued upon their downward spiral. 'Just look at all the good I've done, first Cedric, then Sirius!' The pain in his chest intensified and he felt a familiar stinging behind his eyes, but he knew it had nothing to do with his aching torso. 'Think happy thoughts.' He reminded himself clinically, but the mantra sounded fake and empty even in his own head. 'Ah fuck it. Just get to the platform!' There. That was better. 'Just get to the platform.'
Vernon rounded the opposite bumper. Crouching low Harry clearly heard his uncle curse as he realized that Harry had rolled away.
"You won't get away from me that easily freak!" Vernon bellowed as he waddled faster, intent on catching his wayward nephew. "Where are you going to go anyhow? You're a worthless freak; all you ever do is hurt people!" A rather large purple vein was popping out of his forehead, pulsing in time with his accelerated heartbeat.
'I hope it bursts.' Harry thought spitefully, having finally regained some sense of control over his battered body. Then, hugging his bad arm securely to his side, Harry sprung wildly upwards and dashed as fast as he could towards the car parks' exit. The entrance to King's Cross station. His ticket to freedom. There was no way Vernon could catch him now. The man could hardly pull himself out of a car for Merlin's sake.
Yanking the heavy door to the station as hard as his shaky arms would allow Harry threw himself into the entry, and continued running single-mindedly towards his goal. 'The barrier. Just get to the platform!'
That single thought was all that'd been driving Harry for weeks now, keeping him alive, keeping him sane. 'I must get to Hogwarts; just get to the platform.' He was prepared to do whatever it took. Hogwarts was the only place he was safe. Screw Dumbledore, forget his stupid orders. Anywhere had to be safer than where he was, with his uncle. Hell, he'd take Voldemort any day given the choice. Vernon was just so...the things he did were.... He couldn't think about it.
'Just get to the platform.'
Besides, if Dumbledore had known what was going on he'd have wanted Harry to come back. If he'd known what was happening he never would have left Harry on Privet Drive with them. Would he? Harry wasn't completely sure anymore.
In fact, Harry had begun to doubt a lot of things, and his candy loving Headmaster was on top of the list. The summer had defiantly changed his perspective. Being shut up in a cupboard for weeks at a time gave you lots of instance to think, that was for sure. It had taken copious amounts of time, and some serious introspection, but once he gotten past the phase of denial it was painfully obvious to Harry how the Headmaster had been manipulating him from day one.
In retrospect it was a mystery how he'd never noticed it before. The innocuous little trail of clues Dumbledore had scattered before them in their first year. The miraculous appearance of the sword of Gryffindor in the Chamber of Secrets. Okay, Harry was still convinced that third year had been genuine, it was Sirius after all, but the Goblet of Fire?!? Come on! Dumbledore hadn't even tried to help him get out of it. If he'd thought the man lacked subtlety before, there was certainly no question now. If anything, Dumbledore had encouraged Harry to continue and compete, and risk his life.
'And the lives of other students.' The unwanted thought flashed through Harry's mind, but despite its brevity, it lacked nothing in intensity.
Tombstones. Wormtail. Cauldron. Blood. Voldemort. Cedric. Avada Kedavra.
Avada Kedavra.
The gruesome flashback was accompanied by a painful clench in his gut. 'Cedric. All my fault.' It felt like his breakfast was trying to make a come-back. If he'd had breakfast that is, or any other meal in the last four days for that matter. Not bloody likely.
So deep in thought was he that Harry completely forgot to watch where he was running.
"Oof!" Hot white spikes of pain drove down Harry's sides as he hit the ground hard for the second time that day, butt bouncing none to easily against the gum-speckled concrete.
His hands immediately clutched at his chest, trying to support his ribs, and lessen the pain. But in his haste Harry forgot to cross his arms in that special way he'd learned, and the puffy one ended up being squeezed painfully between his chest and his right forearm.
Black spots danced before Harry's eyes, and it took all his will power not to gasp harshly, and put even more strain on his ribs, beginning the cycle all over again. 'It'd taken awhile to learn that one too.' thought Harry bitterly. After a moment the haziness around the edges of his vision faded, and Harry drew a shaky breath, taking stock of himself.
Though momentarily jolted, the hot flares of pain in his ribs would subside, he knew that well enough. His bruises would defiantly be leaving a shade darker than they started. But the make-shift bandage on his hand had held, and saved it from further injury!
His first happy thought of the day was quickly drowned by the feeling of his broken arm, or rather the lack thereof. Though it was a pleasant break form its habitual throbs of agony, the numb, tingly feeling from the fracture down could not be a good sign. 'The bones must've shifted and pinched a nerve.' Harry thought despairingly, while grimacing at the offending limb.
It'd happened before, when he was seven. Vernon had pushed him aside especially hard one morning, and his frail bone had snapped. It'd been his first broken bone. After a quick, and rather sloppy, splint job Harry'd gotten back to work scrubbing the kitchen floor with tears in his eyes. The real damage happened later that day when Dudley had come home from his friend's house. Seeing Harry cradling his arm so protectively to his chest, Dudley just couldn't help himself. One shove later the same tingly feeling had enveloped his arm, the right one that time. It hadn't stopped for weeks, and Harry'd eventually been forced to ask his Aunt Petunia for help. The memory alone made him shiver. Harry stuck by his belief that rebreaking a bone could not aid the healing process in any way. To bad the doctor hadn't been of the same mind.
Getting to Hogwarts was not an option anymore. Now it was a requirement. He had to get his arm splinted properly. No more half-assed kitchen spoon jobs. When he arrived he would snap up some of his famous healing potion, and a batch of Skele-Gro for good measure. Those ribs were giving him more trouble than they were worth.
Having come to a decision and completed the cursory corporeal inspection Harry tilted his head skyward to see what had caused his impromptu date with gravity. To say he was shocked beyond belief would be the understatement of the century. Scratch that, of the millennium. A.N.Guess who! review review review review review review review!!!