A/N: This is my second attempt at the severitus challenge. Hopefully, this will be better than the first. Thank you all for reading and please make sure to review at the end of the chapter. I'm sorry already for all the mistakes that I'm going to make in staying true to the original story. Please understand that while I have read all of the books, I do not own any of them, and therefore am at a disadvantage (I'm also writing this at work which puts me at a further disadvantage, but SHH!) I hope that the readers have not yet gotten tired of these (I know that I haven't inspite of the real sixth book.) I also hope that this will be somewhat different than my first. Please let me know what you think.
Sixth Year: Harry's Past
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Harry sat on his bed trying very hard to remember why it was that he felt joy at being told that he was a wizard to begin with. Of course, then he didn't know about Voldemort and good and evil. The Wizarding world had claimed everything he held dear. First his parents and then the second best thing – Sirius. Harry desperately wished that he could go back to the times when he lived under the stairs and thought that was all there was to life. Harry snorted a little as he thought this. He never thought that he would ever find himself thinking that. Harry nearly cried aloud in desperation but caught himself in time; he knew if he cried out at this late hour, it would only bring another beating from Vernon. He had had enough of those lately. It only added insult to injury; he couldn't help it if he had been mopping around the house. Of course Dobby showing up to try and cheer him up on his third day home didn't help at all. He always made a mess of things. Harry was too weak to think much more about things; they had taken to giving him only bread and water slipped through a little hole in the door after the fifth night of his nightmares. Harry fell asleep crying once again.
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Harry could barely see the light coming in through the bars that, the Dursleys had installed on the windows, but he knew it was morning because his bread and water was slipped through the door rather loudly, spilling most of the water in the meantime. The prospect of another day of this was starting to wear on him. He had only been home for 2 weeks now, but the grief combined with lack of proper nourishment was getting to him. Harry couldn't believe that just last night he was saying that he wished he had never known of the wizarding world. He must have been delirious. This morning Harry found himself wishing that he could just get a letter out to Hermione or Ron or Dumbledore… someone. At this point he would give anything just to be free of this prison. Not only his physical prison, but the emotional prison from the death of his godfather – Sirius. Harry feel asleep again delirious from lack of food. He must have had a nightmare; when he woke up he found Vernon standing over him with a cruel glare on his face. He looked almost happy.
"I told you, boy, I'll beat that magic out of you yet. I'll make you forget about that school and your godfather if it's the last thing I do. I'll have no magic in this house." At that Vernon proceeded to beat him until he was unconscious.
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All of Harry's days seemed to pass in pretty much the same manner. His mood changed so quickly, he could barely keep up. One minute he was angry at Sirius for deserting him, the next he was depressed and lonely; he alternated between wanting to give up the fight and quit magic and wanting to find Voldemort and defeat him before he did any more damage. In the weeks up until his birthday he noticed subtle changes. His hair grew much faster and it was now already down to his shoulders; it also seemed to be a bit darker. He thought that his nose was a little longer and more pointed. His complexion was a bit more pale. He just assumed this was what everyone went through during puberty. Finally, it was the morning before his birthday. He woke up and went to put on his glasses until he realized that he could see perfectly well without them. 'How unusual.' He thought. But he was too weak to really contemplate on this long and quickly fell back into the bed and went back to sleep. When he awoke, he once again saw Vernon standing over him. He braced himself for his typical beating.
"I've told you many times, boy, you must stop this crying out during your sleep. It's not befitting of a normal boy. And I will make you normal. You will be normal, do you hear me?" Harry could barely keep himself awake even for the beating this morning. Harry knew that he was on the edge of death, but somehow he didn't care. He was simply hoping that it would all be over with soon. He just wanted it to be over. That was his last thought before he fell unconscious.
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"Is he breathing?"
"Yes, but just barely. We must get him back to the infirmary or he won't make it. How could he have gotten like this? I thought someone was supposed to be watching him at all times? How could it have gotten this bad?"
"Unfortunately, the only person that the order could spare to watch over him was Mundungus Fletcher. You know how unreliable he is. He probably wasn't here half the time and the other half, I'm sure he just assumed Harry was distraught with grief. He should have been able to take care of himself anyway. I mean these are mere muggles after all. He could have outsmarted them."
Harry knew he recognized those voices, but could not quite place them. He was on the edge of consciousness, but was not ready yet to come back to the pain that he knew he would feel if he regained conscious. That last voice though, full of contempt, it sounded so familiar. Somehow despite the malice he could hear in the voice, he felt comforted and knew that he would be safe now. He knew that the beatings would stop. He'd be okay. It was then that he fell completely back into unconsciousness.