A trickle of water from the torrential downpour followed the snake as it slithered through the small opening in the cabin window before it was shut. Stopping in front of the thin, black haired boy who seemed to be the only inhabitant, it opened its jaws and spat out a small mouse onto the floor. The boy hissed his thanks, and the serpent made its way over to the corner where it slept.

It was the fifth day, and he did not know how long he could last. The storm had arrived two nights prior, and its howling winds and thunderous claps were so unlike the complete silence that Harry was used to. From the reinforced cupboard he had spent the last 3 years in, he couldn't hear anything from the outside unless his aunt opened the hatch to give him food. The quiet and the darkness were his friends, ever so comforting. At least that's one advantage to the storm, Harry though glumly. It had been continuously dark outside since it started.

The sunlight on the first morning had been unbearable, and he hadn't stopped screaming until the snakes had come in to comfort him. The next morning he could take in his surroundings without his eyes hurting too much, provided he kept the blinds on the windows closed and didn't stare straight at them. He hadn't had enough light to see for this long in years. There were lots of books on the shelf, Harry remembered them from back when his relatives had let him go to school, but it had been so long that he couldn't understand them anymore. There was also a small television, but it made an ungodly noise that made him want to start screaming again. One thing he didn't have to worry about boredom though, he was used to spending long periods of time in places like this, after all, that's where he was the last 3 years.

The Dursleys (was that their names? Harry had difficulty remembering) had once made him clean their house, cook their food, and go to school with their son. The only part of his days he really enjoyed back then was when he was forced to do the gardening, he'd whisper to the snakes in the bushes when he thought his Aunt wasn't around, as she'd beat him for speaking at all. Once his stupid cousin (was it Dudley? some stupid name like that) had seen him talking to them though, the fat blonde boy had started mocking and tormenting Harry with his friend. They'd even tried to throw the snakes at him, though the snakes never tried to harm him. When Harry finally broke down and started yelling at them to stop, telling them that they were hurting the poor things, the two were immediately bitten and collapsed.

Their screams had been the last then he had heard before he was beaten to within an inch of his life and dumped in his cupboard, never to be let out again. Until his uncle had dumped him on this bloody island.

Harry stared down at the mouse in front of him, his stomach both growling in hunger and disgust. Athena had been bring him food since the storm had made it difficult to search for berries like he had been doing before, but he still hadn't gotten used to eating meat, and he found that vomiting it was even worse than the hunger.

"You can eat this instead, I don't think I can."

Athena brought her head up to stare at him for a few moments, then curled up again without saying a word. Clearly she's not going to let me get away with not eating again, Harry thought darkly, before taking a small bit out of its side and spitting out the fur.

BOOM!

Harry flinched at the abrupt disturbance, dropping the mouse on the ground before wildly running over to the corner. He couldn't tell if it was the storm or that infernal wooden machine that had went off every hour before he had smashed it and started burning its parts as firewood.

BOOM!

The bloody thing hadn't gone off since the first night, why was it doing it now! It sounded slightly different though, but maybe that was to be expected considering he had mostly destroyed it.

BOOM!

It took all of Harry's strength not to start screaming for it to stop. He hated hearing himself scream, it was as bad as every other loud noise, worse even, but he couldn't stop himself in situations like this. It disturbance seemed to be coming from the door though and not the device, so perhaps he wouldn't have to listen to it go off nine more times.

The last break in the commotion went on for longer than the others had before there was the much quieter creaking of the door opening. Harry brought his head down and knelt to avoid looking at the intruder, hoping that perhaps he would be missed, or at the very least not be beaten. He slowed his breathing until his chest hurt, and began to count quietly his head, the familiarity of the slow, methodical action calming him slightly.

"Harry?"

Harry brought his head up slightly at his name, and saw a giant, bearded man framed against the moonlight, with a small package in his hand. He heard his name being called again, and smiled a little. He was glad he still recognized his name, it had been so difficult before to understand words before and he had wondered whether he would be able to at all. Maybe he'd actually be able to understand everything this time, and maybe the Dursleys had just been speaking gibberish to him that whole time.

Unfortunately none of this was true, and he couldn't understand another word the man spoke after that. Harry sat down dejectedly in his corner and closed his eyes as the man went on unintelligibly, though this seemed to irritate the man quite a bit. Harry found that the giant would calm down considerably and stop repeating his name when he stared at the man, but he still seemed more annoyed than when he had first entered. The intruder finally stopped making that idiotic noise and the two just stared at each other in silence. After a few seconds, the man let out a growl and stomped toward him, reaching out with his massive, muscular hands to grab him.

Harry's screams and hisses broke the tense atmosphere, and the man let go and stumbled back. Athena began hissing from her corner as well, something about defending him, but Harry could barely comprehend what was happening over his own shrieks. God, he hated that noise he made. He flinched back and screamed louder as red lights began flashing before his eyes, he tried shutting them but they were just too bright and he couldn't concentrate on keeping them closed with all the shouting and hissing and movement and...

It was morning when he woke up, and he was still in the cabin, which had flooded significantly since last night. The door was hanging wide open and the window was shattered, allowing light to pour in and hurt his eyes. Thankfully he was alone again. Athena didn't seem to be anywhere around him, but that didn't bother Harry too much, as the floor was covered in debris, and she could easily be outside where it was too bright for him to go now that the storm was over. Harry tried to close the blinds further, to keep out the infuriating light, but they were too damaged to help. The door also would close properly anymore, but it could still block most of the light. Cursing softly, Harry went over to the bookshelf, shoved the remaining books into the shallow water, and curled up into a ball a few feet above the wet floor.

Harry never cried, when we was upset or angry he would count as high as he could in his head. It didn't do much this time though. Harry wished that annoying giant man could have left some food before he fled, since he had never been this hungry before and didn't know how much longer he could last without something to eat. He didn't think he could get up if he tried.

Maybe he could die in peace though. In silence.

The room that Harry woke up in reminded him of Dudley's room, back when Harry had actually been able to see it during his forced cleanings. The room was dark and the blinds were drawn, but the walls were a bright crimson red and gold from floor to ceiling, and the decorations were covered in strange, bearded creatures that his fat cousin had enjoyed playing with for a while. There were six beds here though, and nobody was yelling at him, which confirmed that this was not actually his cousin's room. As if his cousin ever had that many people over.

Harry's body snapped up as an unfamiliar scent hit him, and his head twitched back and forth frantically as he searched for whatever was making his mouth water so badly. There was a plate of food beside him, some of them were recognizable, like the eggs he was once forced to cook, but others looked like meat with blue bits sticking out of them. Harry wondered if these were similar to the green stuff on the bread his aunt used to give him, but their texture didn't seem right. There was a piece of paper beside it, or at least something that looked like it came out of a book, but he couldn't understand the scribbles so he threw it to the side. Harry quickly wolfed down the food before someone could interrupt, then opened some of the vials next to it, but they had a vile odor so he shoved them back across the table. The smell reminded him of the stuff Dudley used to try to force him to drink, which usually made him sick. It was probably poison.

Fumbling with the curtains to make sure they were secured and blocking the most light, Harry began to count in his head. He continued, kneeling in the corner, until the brightness emanating from the window began to dim. Thoughts about where he was, who had taken him, and what was going to happen occasionally filtered into his mind, but Harry was good at not losing count. He only stopped when the light had completely faded and his stomach began growling pitifully, and instead started building a small green fire on the pale skin of his palm.

Harry loathed the fire growing in front of him, it was too bright and he found it difficult to not start flinching and lose control with the constant cracks and sparks. When he'd first been locked in the cupboard, the fires he made had tended to be red, yellow, or blue, but those had hurt his eyes terribly. So he used green flames instead, but only when he needed to find the cups of water left for him so they wouldn't get spilled.

Or when he was in dark, unfamiliar places. Not that he'd been in one before, he had known his small cupboard intimately, and there had always been enough moonlight in the cabin to move around with. Harry slowly slunk across the room, never making a noise, and opened the door on the far side to reveal a staircase that would have been pitch black if not for the small flame. Harry kept his eyes glued to the narrow, winding steps as he slowly made his way downwards, trying to keep his weak legs from tripping. Eventually there was enough light seeping in from below that he extinguished the flame, only pausing slightly let his eyes adjust before entering the large room ahead.

It was too bright though. The light was subdued, perhaps more so than the cabin was at times, but it was til too much. Harry shut his eyes and tried to keep from screaming, but his foot missed most of the next step as he kept walking and a sharp pain tore through his shoulder as collapsed on the floor. He hissed at the pain, but managed to avoid letting out those horrible screams with only a short yelp.

Light had a tendency to reach his eyes regardless of how tightly he shut them, so he was able tell he wasn't alone when the irritating red spots darkened. He opened his right eye slightly, the pain no longer overwhelming his ability to see what was around him. Towering over him was an old, wrinkled man with a long gray beard and equally long gray hair, his purple robes and obnoxiously light blue hat contrasting violently with them. Beside the man was a younger, but still old and very stern looking woman with a much more subdued choice of entirely black clothing. Both had funny looks in their eyes, halfway between expectant and some emotion he hadn't seen before.

Did they say something to me? I couldn't hear them, maybe I'll be able to understand these people if they start talking.

Harry's thoughts turned more hopeful as the old man whispered his name and he understood it. Harry sat up slowly, attempting to keep the stern woman's head between him and the light, and turned to gaze into the man's old blue eyes, waiting for him to speak again.

Harry shouldn't have bothered. The long-winded, monologue the man spewed was entirely incomprehensible, complete nonsense that quickly gave him a headache. Harry slumped back onto the floor, rolling into a ball in the hopes that the pounding of his skull would dissipated. This only seemed to irritate the woman though, who started ranting at a much louder volume than the old man had and repeatedly yelled his name. Harry ignored her completely though. Its not like he could understand what they wanted, even if he tried. He was too broken for that.

There was blessed silence for a moment as nobody spoke, but it was shattered as Harry felt a hand brush against his arm. He tried to stop himself as he began hissing and screaming, but the lights above suddenly hit his eyes as the two figures moved away, and he completely lost control. Stop, stop, I hate that disgusting noise so much, make it stop. But nothing Harry thought could make it stop, and the pounding in his head grew heavier and heavier as the red lights began to fade and his screams grew more and more distant.

Thank you so much everyone who read this! I'm not sure how good it is, so I would love some reviews, even if they're negative, since I haven't gotten much critique on my writings in a few years. Do try to be nice and constructive though. I'll try to put out the next chapter in a week or two, I feel like it'll come out pretty easily.

I don't own anything,

IoftheOwl