Summary: At first, I never touched him…I was too afraid to. But Vernon opened my eyes to what he was capable of, and I knew I had to defend myself…at all costs! I just never thought it would all end so badly.
This is the first actual angst story I've ever done…in fanfiction anyway (school doesn't count). The way it turned out…well…I certainly didn't expect it to go that way…it just flowed out like that. I'm sorry if anybody gets upset (hell, I got upset while I was writing this!), but it simply seemed to fit the song very well, so I decided I'd go for it…even if I was running the risk of having half of my fellow Pottermaniacs out there hate me. So…here it is! Please review…and be kind and gentle. Despite the fact that I wrote this, I'm still very sensitive!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and anything related to his magical world all belongs to JK Rowling, AOL Time Warner, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, and anybody else in on that giant heap of money. The song Breakable belongs to Fisher---
~Thoughts
~Emphasized
++++
Fisher - Breakable
Do you always have to tell him everything
On your mind?
You know that too much honesty can be
So unkind
Chorus:
And every time you throw him to the floor
Why are you surprised to see he's breakable?
You always try to find what's holding him
Away from you
But do you ever see your anger standing there
Right between you?
And every time you throw him to the wall
Why are you surprised to see he's breakable?
Tell the world that he's breaking your heart
Go tell the world nothing's ever your fault
Go tell them all
And every time you throw him to the floor
Why are you surprised to see he's breakable?
And every time you push him to the wall
Why are you surprised to see he's breakable?
++++
"- AND IF I HEAR ONE MORE PEEP OUT OF YOU, SO HELP ME GOD, YOU WON'T EAT IN A MONTH!!!"
The loud, deep voice echoed throughout the house, and Petunia Dursley couldn't help but wince as the windows next to her gave a slight rattling noise.
Sometimes, this type of punishment is necessary, she chided herself for doubting her husbands knowledge on childcare. You know as well as everybody else that that boy is nothing but bad. He's just like Lily…and that God forsaken Potter boy.
She looked down into her cooling cup of tea. Besides, he had no business…playing with Dudley's toy car.
Even she found that argument hard to believe. Her nephew, no matter how disobedient at times, was only a child. Every child likes to play. Those…people…couldn't be much different. Could they?
"Really! That boy needs more discipline!! He actually spoke back to me, Petunia. Can you believe that?! Spoke back to me…the nerve that little freak has!" Vernon Dursley said to his wife, as he took a seat next to her and began to pour himself some tea. "As if it's not enough that he took Dudley's toys away from him, the thief. Hell…as if it's not enough he's here in the first place! We provide a roof over his head, and this is the way he repays us…stealing!"
Vernon huffed once more, then drank down the contents of his mug.
"That's hardly stealing, Vernon. He was simply playing with the car." Petunia dared to say, looking at him through her lashes nervously.
Her husband seemed surprised by this remark and looked at her. "How can you side with a weirdo like that? You remember what your sister was like…and that Potter. They were terrible! With their…spells and such. It's not natural! And that boy," he gestured towards the living room, where they both new their nephew's room (if it could even be called that) was, "is nothing but trouble! He's just like his parents…a freak. We can only hope our attempts at squashing it out of him will work. If not…we'll simply have to throw him out. Can't have others thinking we're involved in their…activities."
Petunia thought this over slightly. I suppose he's right, she said to herself. Anyone with such unnatural abilities can't possibly be…safe. And Harry Potter has caused nothing but trouble since the day we so generously took him in. Yes…Vernon's absolutely right. That boy must be reprimanded more often!
With that, she picked up the now empty mugs and set to washing them.
***
It had been two years since the last time Petunia had had any doubts on her husband's ideas concerning Harry, and she was, once again, stuck in that same situation.
The three official members of the family had been sitting in the living room, watching TV, when Harry had come in from mowing the lawn…closely followed by Mrs. Foster, the nice, old lady who lived right across the street. Apparently, she'd come by to tell the Dursleys off for allowing a 6-year-old boy to use that machine, which was "just about twice his size," to quote her exact words.
Of course, Vernon had apologized profusely, and told her it'd been Harry's own doing. That he'd insisted on going out to mow the lawn, and had thrown a tantrum demanding that they let him.
Mrs. Foster had looked slightly skeptical of the fact that a young boy would actually want to mow the lawn, but Vernon had somehow managed to convince her that his story was true ("He's a very curious boy, and loves to explore with machines like that. We've found him trying to dismantle the television!").
Now that the old lady was finally gone, Vernon stood, seething.
For his part, Harry looked like he would break into tears any minute. "U-uncle Vernon! I s-swear…I told her t-to leave me alone, b-but she kept bugging me!" The small boy backed away from his uncle, shaking with fear.
"You'll pay for that one, boy," his uncle replied through clenched teeth, still moving forward. In a moment, he'd backed the boy completely against the wall. "You'll n--"
"Uncle Vernon, please! I-I d-didn't mean t-to!" The child cried desperately.
"DON'T INTERRUPT ME, BOY!!!" Vernon grabbed the boy by the loose collar of his shirt, and lifted him off his tiny feet. "You made us look bad," he said, feigning calm. "What's the neighborhood going to think when this gets out, hm? That we treat you badly? May I remind you that if it weren't for us, you'd be out on the streets, boy! We're doing you a favor, keeping you here! You'd better start acting grateful, and for once, behave like a normal child!"
"B-but, I d-didn't--!"
"WHAT'D I SAY ABOUT INTERRUPTING ME?!" He tightened his grip and pushed him harshly into the wall, making him cry out in pain. "You worthless freak…you're not to leave your cupboard in a week! Understood?"
"Y-yes, Uncle Vernon."
Petunia watched, slightly horrified, as her husband dragged the little boy across the living room, and threw him into the cupboard under the stairs.
Even though she disagreed with the way Vernon was currently handling Harry, she bit her tongue and kept quite. Remember what he'll turn out to be if…if you don't do this, Petunia, she told herself. Squash it out of him…squash it out.
***
"BOY!!! Get down here and finish cleaning the carpet!" Petunia yelled up the stairs, as she stared down at the rather large maroon stain marring her perfect, white carpet. Dudley spilled some cranberry juice during breakfast, earlier today.
"I'm COMING!" Harry came trudging down from his room, looking for all the world like the living dead.
"Don't get funny with me, boy! We made it clear last year that we won't keep you here if you mouth off…or raise your tone, for that matter!" Petunia said haughtily to the slightly lanky boy kneeling in front of the stain.
"Of course, Aunt Petunia. Wouldn't want that to happen, right?" He replied sarcastically.
She narrowed her eyes at him…he'd come home very different this year. The change in his demeanor had been much more noticeable than last year. She knew something had happened, but didn't dare to ask her now 16-year-old nephew.
"I'm warning you, boy," she said, not letting a single clue to what she was thinking flitter across her face, "you'd better show more respect towards us."
"Yeah," he scoffed, as he scrubbed at the receding stain. "I'll treat you guys with more respect. Because you deserve it, right? After all, you are doing me the huge favor of letting me love in your beautiful home, aren't you? My apologies for now showing my respect for you, as you have for me."
She couldn't believe he had the galls to speak to her in such a manner! Her anger took the better of her, and she grabbed a broomstick (which had been leaning on the wall, next to her) and hit him hard on the shoulder.
He dropped the brush he'd been using to clean the carpet and hissed in pain, falling on his side, as he looked up at her.
She remembered all the times her husband had told her, time and time again, that she couldn't hold back with Harry. She needed to hurt him…to defend herself, her family, from this boy…this freak. So she drew the broomstick handle back and hit him again, this time across the stomach, where it broke in half.
He doubled over a bit and closed his eyes tightly, holding onto his injured body part.
Seeing the fact that she no longer had the broomstick to protect herself, she grabbed the metal bucket that held the dirty water Harry had been using to dip the cleaning brush into. Forgetting that it was full, she held it high and swung it down onto Harry's head with a loud clunk.
His muscles loosened and he slumped to the side, a wide crack on the top of his head pouring blood.
She was gasping for air, as she finally seemed to wake from the stupor she'd been in. It felt as if somebody had taken over her…she'd never gone out so fully on Harry before.
She nervously bent down in front of him, and touched her hand to his forehead.
He was cold.
Oh God…there's no way I could've possibly done this, she thought shakily.
She grabbed onto his arm, silently begging Harry to wake up, and slid her fingers towards his wrist.
No pulse.
Oh dear Lord…what have I done?
She desperately began to weep, her cries echoing around the empty house. She'd killed her nephew.
I'm so sorry, Lily…I'm so sorry…Petunia hugged Harry's dead body, and began rocking back and forth.
The words "squash it out of him" seemed to ghost over her conscience from that day forward.
***
"My ideal of education is hard. Whatever is weak must be hammered away. In the fortresses of my militant order a generation of young people will grow to strike fear into the heart of the world. Violent, masterful, unafraid, cruel youth is what I want. Young people must be all that. They must withstand pain. There must be nothing weak or tender about them. The free--magnificent predator must flash from their eyes again. I want them strong and beautiful...That way I can fashion things anew." ~ Adolf Hitler
Author's Note: I was crying by the time I got to the end…honest! I love Harry…he's my favorite character, and it would hurt me deeply if anything happened to him in the actual book series, but I just had to write this. I had to try my own version at real Harry angst…and this is what I came up with. I hope some of you will review (I especially hope you won't cyber-scratch my eyes out)…so, check out that little purple button, and see how it goes!
Also…in the very small chance that anybody out there reading this right now is suffering from child abuse, please get help! I really don't know where you can contact somebody who can help you, but try your closest police precinct, or search on the web for a hotline, or something…go to your school counselor. Anything…just don't let it get out of line. There's this website: http : // www . child - abuse . com / Just remove all of the spaces and try searching through there.
Ok then…I'll quit jabbering now.