A/N: All characters, sets and character personas belong to J.K.Rowling. Read and Review, please.
Chapter 1: Dudley, Dursleys, Damned
Harry woke up at seven in the morning, on a beautiful Saturday, August the tenth. He put on his glasses, took a look at Hedwig who was already sleeping in her cage (owls go out at night to sleep...) and looked out the window. It was a bright, sunny morning yet again. Kids will probably be outside playing foot-ball, skipping ropes and running around enjoying their vacation while he was locked up in this muggle home. To top things off, Dumbledore had forbidden him to leave his house, or even get away over 10 metres. Dumbledore is paranoid, thought Harry. Then again, Voldemort had risen once again, and his Death Eaters probably want to kill him. Harry sighed. Neither Ron, nor Hermione have written in weeks. He was truly lonely. He had no one. And now, he had to grieve the death of Cedric Diggory, for which he felt he was obviously responsible.
'Breakfast, Dudley!' yelled Aunt Petunia from downstairs who was already wide awake, while Harry was still slightly tired.
'Breakfast, Vernon!' yelled Aunt Petunia from downstairs. There was something in her voice... Harry couldn't quite identify it, yet.
'HARRY! WHY AREN'T YOU DOWNSTAIRS YET? IT'S TIME FOR BREAKFAST! IF I HAVE TO...'. She kept screaming at the top of her lungs. Harry now knew... Oh, yeah. She was angry. No, not angry. Livid. She was going to shred him to pieces today. She needed to relieve her stress, and he was the perfect dummy for it. He was, bluntly, screwed.
Uncle Vernon turned the television set on. He put on the weather channel. It was going to be a warm day. Warm was an understatement. It was going to be hot. Steaming. It was going to be nearly 37 degrees celcius (nearly 100 fahrenheit). Everybody groaned when they heard. Everyone except Harry, that is. Everyone was now picking idly at their food not really enjoying any of it, even though his Aunt prepared more of a buffet for them than a breakfast.
Harry, however, finished his breakfast with such speed that everyone was looking at him. Then again, all he had to eat was half an apple. Nevertheless, he enjoyed every bite of it. They've been starving him. They knew it, and he knew it. He also knew that if he would say anything, or even look the wrong way, they wouldn't give him anything more to eat for the rest of the day. Without even glancing into any one of their eyes since he knew what would await him if he did, he excused himself from the table, washed up his own dish and ran up the stairs. He then proceeded to close his door, and jump on his bed. He was feeling exceptionally sad. Still, his friends persisted at not sending him any letters. He'll have known them for 5 years soon, and they did such a thing to him. He couldn't believe it. How was he going to last through two more weeks without any communication with his closest friends? He then proceeded to writing letters to each of them. He took out parchment, ink, and a quill. He then sat down at his desk, and wrote:
'Dear Ron,'
He paused. What was he going to write? Was he going to beg them to take him home like they usually did? No, he was strong, he thought. Yeah, he could take this.
'How are you? I've been here, cooped up for weeks without any word from either you or Hermione.
What's going on? The Dursleys are starving me again. Could you please ask your mom for something
to eat? All I'm getting lately are fruits and water. How are things over at your place? Do you think
I'll be able to join you guys anytime soon? The Dursleys aren't exactly my favorite company.
Well, write back soon,
Harry'
He then rolled the parchment up. Instinctively, Hedwig got out of her cage and landed on Harry's desk, and then stuck out her leg.
'No, Hedwig, wait. You'll be dropping off two letters at a time.'
Hedwig hooted in response to notify him of her acknowledgement. Harry then took the other piece of parchment, and starting writing.
'Dear Hermione,
How are'ya? I've been wondering why you guys (you and Ron) haven't written anything. I'm worried.
The Dursleys are starving me, again. Could you please ask your parents for something to eat? I didn't
really get anything to eat for the past few days... By the way, Ron might ask me to stay over at his
place, so if your owl can't find me at place, I'll probably be there.
Bye,
Harry'
Well, it's not the greatest, Harry thought, but it would do it's job. He then attached the two letters to Hedwig, one on each leg, and sent the snowy white owl off. Now all Harry had to do, or could do, was wait. Nothing more to do than that. So, he did. An hour passed, two hours... Five hours later, Aunt Petunia called from downstairs. Harry got up, and went downstairs. He found out that he was supposed to do the gardening. At least this would get his mind off his friends, he thought. He didn't realize what kind of a torture this was until he stepped outside. It was noon. After over an hour of working, Harry began to feel dizzy. This wasn't human. He dealt with it, though, not trying to show that he was becoming weaker every second. He wouldn't want anyone looking at him, like this. The Great Harry Potter, he thought. Who would believe he was enslaved by muggles? He looked terrible, and he felt even worse. What if Cho saw him?
He stopped. Where did that come from? Why Cho? What? He continued working for fear of Dudley spotting him, who was reading a comic book in the shade on a very comfortable-looking chair. He brought his thoughts back to Cho. He knew he liked her, but why would she see him working like a fool? Suddenly, he stopped again. This was a more abrupt stop than the previous one. He was on all fours. His right arm, on which he had most of his weight on, bent even more abruptly then he stopped, and he rolled over on his right. That was all he remembered. He had fainted.
When Harry woke up, the following day, he was in his bedroom. He saw what seemed to be like three figures sitting on a single chair... He then proceeded to put on his glasses, and saw that it wasn't three figures, but a single one. It was Dudley. Dudley was getting so wide, he easily weighed more than Harry, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia put together. Dudley looked at Harry for a moment, and then proceeded to scream.
'MOM, DAD!!!! HE'S UP!!!! HE GOT UP!!!!'
Dudley screamed so loud that Harry even closed his eyes and covered his ears. When his eyelids slid up, Dudley was gone. He then heard two pairs of footsteps run up the stairs, and saw two figures barge into his room. It was Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. They were looking at Harry as though he was a rag, but there was something different about this rag. They were actually worried!
'Harry. What in the bloody hell were you thinking?' asked Vernon.
'Is it my fault you two are trying to kill me?' Harry snapped back at his Uncle.
Vernon did nothing but grunt, and then led himself and his wife out the room. He slammed the door as hard as he could, and then screamed through the walls.
'You're staying in there until we have to take you to that stupid school of yours.'
Harry didn't say anything. He didn't want to give them any form of satisfaction.
The following week, Hedwig came back, but with no response. He should have made her peck the two to death until they wrote a reply. He wasn't going to stay at Ron's. He still didn't get any food, and he was losing sanity. He had no contact whatsoever with the Wizarding world, and he thought his friends had abandonned him. Just then, an owl came in. Harry took off the parchment attached to it's leg, and as soon as he did, it flew off. The letter was from Dumbledore. It read:
'Dear Harry,
I'm sorry for not writing anything over the summer. I am also sorry for withholding letters that were sent
by both Ron and Hermione. They are worried about you, Harry, and so am I. I did it for your safety. I'm
sorry if you were deceived, but it was for your own good. Voldemort is back, and you are at great risk.
I hope to see you soon,
Albus Dumbledore
'So what?' Harry thought.
I'm 'The Boy Who Lived', and I'm strength by the day. By the 30th, Harry could barely stand up. Tomorrow, he would have to not only stand up, but make it to the car, and find Ron and Hermione. From there, he would be okay-- they would help him. He just had to get himself together for that brief period of time. He could do it... he knew he could. He just had to get to Ron and Hermione. He had to.