Disclaimer: These characters and so forth are not mine. Rowling owns it
all. I am just a humble fan fic writer.
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The Deatheaters stormed into the large house, and shouts range out. Two men were in a livingroom vainly trying to defend themselves. They were murdered within minutes.
A women and two children were awoken by the noise. She stood at he top of the steps, horrified. She told he children to run, but the death eaters were already coming for them. Tortured and beaten, then killed. When the Deatheaters were finished they disapperated, only to apparate to another house, an older one, and storm inside. repeating their 'performance.'
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At this point Harry woke up where he was lying face first in his homework. He had tried staying up as long as possible, quietly doing his homework. He was trying to keep awake, to stay away from his nightmares, or the occasional horror he had just had the privilege of witnessing. There was also, coincidentally no other time he could do his homework. As he had had to pick the lock and the cupboard to get it -his didn't think it would be a good idea for the Dursleys to see him actually doing it.
In addition to not feeding him, occasionally abusing him, and working him to death with chores, he had had to get a job. He had found one delivering packages, which wasn't so bad. He simply had to walk up to the house, have them sign, then leave. Most often they weren't even at home. He actually liked being away from the Dursleys even if for a job, but didn't admit it to them.
He lay there for an hour just trying to get that vision out of his head, tired eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. Then he saw Pig at his window with a letter from Ron. He and Hermione hadn't written often, as there was a danger of Voldemort intercepting them, or his relatives seeing them. This was, so far, only the second letter from Ron.
The letter was short and basically wondering about whether Harry was still alive. There was an obvious concerned undertone. He scrawled a quick note back that he was as fine as he could be considering where he lived, and that he had gotten a job. He didn't mention the nightmares. Or the visions.
"Harrryyyyyy." He heard his aunt's screams for him to make breakfast, and forced himself to get up.
He made breakfast for the complaining family, then made his way to work. As he walked he mused about running away from the Dursleys like he had third year. He wouldn't though -Dumbledore wanted him here, and life would be much worse (not to mention short) if Voldemort caught up with him. At least he was no longer living in the cupboard, nor stuck in the house all day.
Vernon was even getting better after his initial 'time for revenge mode' as he had remembered the ton-tongue toffee incident.
At lunch he joined Mark and Joshua and enjoyed listening to them talk -another bonus of a job. Actual company. He was silent most of the time, but he still appreciated their company. He just didn't want to talk. and his mind was most often on the end of last year.
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He had suspicions that Ms. Figg was a witch, but hadn't yet been foisted on her so he hadn't had a chance to try and find out. He watched her house speculatively as he walked back to the Dursleys -also watching out for Dudley's gang. He wasn't as fast as he used to be, not caring as much if that caught up with him.
When he got back to the Dursleys home, he knew he had a problem.
When he walked through the door, he saw Uncle Vernon muttering and Dudley was looking gleeful. As Vernon yelled at him about taking forever to get home and unfinished chores, he had a feeling that Harry bashing would ensue. He was right.
Later in his room he lay there feeling the pain of several injuries. He only cared so much -after last year he was somewhat numb. Eventually his eyes slipped shut, and he dreamed of his parents coming out of Voldemort's wand. And so another day passed.
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Cho,
I feel you have a right to know what happened. Cedric was a good person -he didn't deserve to die. It started when I heard screaming and found Krum...
-Harry
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He winced as he limped up the stairs after making dinner, and started on some history of magic homework. He only got out a couple as sentences before he fell asleep. Sleeping was a mistake -after having a nightmare about Cedric rising out of his grave to strangle Harry, he awoke screaming. He had managed to avoid screaming recently, and his uncle had put any duck tape on him tonight. They really had no appreciation of his waking them up screaming. and what if the neighbors should hear?
His uncle came thundering in and saw his homework. He turned red. "How DARE you have that, that, foul thing out in my house." Harry decided not to point out that it was actually several 'things.' His uncle grabbed his things, crumpling his essay. In the end it was burned along with his book. His aunt looked triumphant.
Broken arm and cracked ribs. It had been a while since his uncle had actually broken one of his bones.
It was a good thing it was Friday, as he had a feeling he wasn't going to be allowed to go to work and 'make up for some of the money they had wasted on his worthless hide' until the abuse wasn't so obvious.
Harry was glad he had sent Hedwig to live with Ron -otherwise she might not still be alive. No he did not want to send a letter to anyone. They didn't need to know about this, as they would then know about *all* the years of abuse. He really didn't see the need in making his friends miserable by telling them that he was. And the thought that he deserved it would not go away.
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Several nights later He awoke to the stairs creaking slightly. This was not normal. Vernon or Dudley pounded down the stairs, and his aunt didn't move that slowly. Harry got out his wand and crouched beside his bed. He reached under where his invisibility cloak was. He had decided to pick the lock on the cupboard and move it (and his wand) up here in case the Dursleys decided to do something to it. Finally the door creaked open and a Deatheater peered in. Harry wasted to time in stunning him and moving quickly down the stairs. There were two more of them.
Unfortunately, as he tried to slip past one of the death eaters how was starting up the stairs, he bumped into him hard enough that he noticed. Harry quickly backed up as an arm was thrust in his direction. The Deatheater yelled to his companion "he's invisible!"
Shit. Harry cursed mentally. And turned to the door, but the other Deatheater was standing in front of it. A curse flew by him as the first one shot a few spells in his direction. He quietly ran for the back door, where two more death eaters just happened to notice the door slowly opening on its own. Someone grabbed at him and wrenched his cloak partially off.
Harry stunned him, but the other hit him with a painful curse and he stumbled.
The death eater was hit from the side; Ms. Figg stood a few feet away, recognizably her, but younger. He couldn't help but stare a moment.
"Come on." She held out one of the brooms she was carrying for Harry, who climbed on and flew after her. A few curses flew by them, then they flew in silence for a while until they landed. "Where-" Harry started but she broke in "-Later." They were in a park nearby, by a bench where Ms. Figg was crouched looking for something.
When she found it she motioned him over. "Here, Harry, a portkey." They grabbed a small blue rock and he felt that familiar jerking sensation. He felt momentarily sick, remembering the last time. they were in the middle of nowhere. "Where are we going?" he questioned.
"We are going to Hogwarts, but I couldn't take us too close -they undoubtedly know we are going there- so be quiet please." Harry was full of questions but understood. The moved quickly at times, slowly at others, and occasionally stopping to listen.
Luck was not with them. Another group of Deatheaters caught up with them. There were two of them shooting curses at Ms. Figg as she ran behind for cover, away from Harry. She obviously meant to draw them away.
Harry moved behind a tree, and prepared to fire away at the other deatheater when he was hit from behind with the cruciatus. Ms. Figg got the other, while someone, to his relief, stunned the Deatheater attacked Harry.
It turned out to be Remus and Sirius, who quickly ran to Harry. Remus quickly greeted Arabella while Sirius pulled Harry up. "Dumbledore got your message,' Remus was saying to Arabella.
She responded "We need to get Harry to Hogwarts soon, he's got a broken arm among other things."
"Harry?" Sirius questioned with a hug. Harry gave him a weak grin, "I'm mostly fine." Albeit in a lot of pain.
Sirius let Harry lean against them as they silently moved on.
He was barely aware when they made it to Hogwarts and on to the infirmary, where he was given the usual treatment -shoved onto a bed and given a sleeping potion.
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He woke up feeling much better, to see the ceiling of the infirmary. Sirius sitting next to him and noticed the he was awake.
"Hi Harry," he said with concern clouding his eyes. "Pomfrey wants said your arm would be healed in a day or two."
Harry looked and saw him arm in a splint. "Well I feel better, but still somewhat tired. How did the death eaters get to me at the Dursleys'?"
"I don't know -but they are gone now, and your relatives weren't seriously hurt, and now they don't remember a thing.
"So am I going back?" This he asked with mixed feelings. He deserved to be there, but they really were irritating.
His godfather raised an eyebrow. "Of course not -and before you ask- " (anticipating Harry's next question) "-we already got your stuff." Harry grinned at him, and he smiled back.
At this point Madam Pomfrey came out and started fussing. Harry looked at her in alarm.
"Sirius-"
"Don't worry, she knows." And before Harry could ask where he was going to be staying food was being shoved into him, and Sirius was being shoved out the door.
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The Deatheaters stormed into the large house, and shouts range out. Two men were in a livingroom vainly trying to defend themselves. They were murdered within minutes.
A women and two children were awoken by the noise. She stood at he top of the steps, horrified. She told he children to run, but the death eaters were already coming for them. Tortured and beaten, then killed. When the Deatheaters were finished they disapperated, only to apparate to another house, an older one, and storm inside. repeating their 'performance.'
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At this point Harry woke up where he was lying face first in his homework. He had tried staying up as long as possible, quietly doing his homework. He was trying to keep awake, to stay away from his nightmares, or the occasional horror he had just had the privilege of witnessing. There was also, coincidentally no other time he could do his homework. As he had had to pick the lock and the cupboard to get it -his didn't think it would be a good idea for the Dursleys to see him actually doing it.
In addition to not feeding him, occasionally abusing him, and working him to death with chores, he had had to get a job. He had found one delivering packages, which wasn't so bad. He simply had to walk up to the house, have them sign, then leave. Most often they weren't even at home. He actually liked being away from the Dursleys even if for a job, but didn't admit it to them.
He lay there for an hour just trying to get that vision out of his head, tired eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. Then he saw Pig at his window with a letter from Ron. He and Hermione hadn't written often, as there was a danger of Voldemort intercepting them, or his relatives seeing them. This was, so far, only the second letter from Ron.
The letter was short and basically wondering about whether Harry was still alive. There was an obvious concerned undertone. He scrawled a quick note back that he was as fine as he could be considering where he lived, and that he had gotten a job. He didn't mention the nightmares. Or the visions.
"Harrryyyyyy." He heard his aunt's screams for him to make breakfast, and forced himself to get up.
He made breakfast for the complaining family, then made his way to work. As he walked he mused about running away from the Dursleys like he had third year. He wouldn't though -Dumbledore wanted him here, and life would be much worse (not to mention short) if Voldemort caught up with him. At least he was no longer living in the cupboard, nor stuck in the house all day.
Vernon was even getting better after his initial 'time for revenge mode' as he had remembered the ton-tongue toffee incident.
At lunch he joined Mark and Joshua and enjoyed listening to them talk -another bonus of a job. Actual company. He was silent most of the time, but he still appreciated their company. He just didn't want to talk. and his mind was most often on the end of last year.
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He had suspicions that Ms. Figg was a witch, but hadn't yet been foisted on her so he hadn't had a chance to try and find out. He watched her house speculatively as he walked back to the Dursleys -also watching out for Dudley's gang. He wasn't as fast as he used to be, not caring as much if that caught up with him.
When he got back to the Dursleys home, he knew he had a problem.
When he walked through the door, he saw Uncle Vernon muttering and Dudley was looking gleeful. As Vernon yelled at him about taking forever to get home and unfinished chores, he had a feeling that Harry bashing would ensue. He was right.
Later in his room he lay there feeling the pain of several injuries. He only cared so much -after last year he was somewhat numb. Eventually his eyes slipped shut, and he dreamed of his parents coming out of Voldemort's wand. And so another day passed.
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Cho,
I feel you have a right to know what happened. Cedric was a good person -he didn't deserve to die. It started when I heard screaming and found Krum...
-Harry
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He winced as he limped up the stairs after making dinner, and started on some history of magic homework. He only got out a couple as sentences before he fell asleep. Sleeping was a mistake -after having a nightmare about Cedric rising out of his grave to strangle Harry, he awoke screaming. He had managed to avoid screaming recently, and his uncle had put any duck tape on him tonight. They really had no appreciation of his waking them up screaming. and what if the neighbors should hear?
His uncle came thundering in and saw his homework. He turned red. "How DARE you have that, that, foul thing out in my house." Harry decided not to point out that it was actually several 'things.' His uncle grabbed his things, crumpling his essay. In the end it was burned along with his book. His aunt looked triumphant.
Broken arm and cracked ribs. It had been a while since his uncle had actually broken one of his bones.
It was a good thing it was Friday, as he had a feeling he wasn't going to be allowed to go to work and 'make up for some of the money they had wasted on his worthless hide' until the abuse wasn't so obvious.
Harry was glad he had sent Hedwig to live with Ron -otherwise she might not still be alive. No he did not want to send a letter to anyone. They didn't need to know about this, as they would then know about *all* the years of abuse. He really didn't see the need in making his friends miserable by telling them that he was. And the thought that he deserved it would not go away.
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Several nights later He awoke to the stairs creaking slightly. This was not normal. Vernon or Dudley pounded down the stairs, and his aunt didn't move that slowly. Harry got out his wand and crouched beside his bed. He reached under where his invisibility cloak was. He had decided to pick the lock on the cupboard and move it (and his wand) up here in case the Dursleys decided to do something to it. Finally the door creaked open and a Deatheater peered in. Harry wasted to time in stunning him and moving quickly down the stairs. There were two more of them.
Unfortunately, as he tried to slip past one of the death eaters how was starting up the stairs, he bumped into him hard enough that he noticed. Harry quickly backed up as an arm was thrust in his direction. The Deatheater yelled to his companion "he's invisible!"
Shit. Harry cursed mentally. And turned to the door, but the other Deatheater was standing in front of it. A curse flew by him as the first one shot a few spells in his direction. He quietly ran for the back door, where two more death eaters just happened to notice the door slowly opening on its own. Someone grabbed at him and wrenched his cloak partially off.
Harry stunned him, but the other hit him with a painful curse and he stumbled.
The death eater was hit from the side; Ms. Figg stood a few feet away, recognizably her, but younger. He couldn't help but stare a moment.
"Come on." She held out one of the brooms she was carrying for Harry, who climbed on and flew after her. A few curses flew by them, then they flew in silence for a while until they landed. "Where-" Harry started but she broke in "-Later." They were in a park nearby, by a bench where Ms. Figg was crouched looking for something.
When she found it she motioned him over. "Here, Harry, a portkey." They grabbed a small blue rock and he felt that familiar jerking sensation. He felt momentarily sick, remembering the last time. they were in the middle of nowhere. "Where are we going?" he questioned.
"We are going to Hogwarts, but I couldn't take us too close -they undoubtedly know we are going there- so be quiet please." Harry was full of questions but understood. The moved quickly at times, slowly at others, and occasionally stopping to listen.
Luck was not with them. Another group of Deatheaters caught up with them. There were two of them shooting curses at Ms. Figg as she ran behind for cover, away from Harry. She obviously meant to draw them away.
Harry moved behind a tree, and prepared to fire away at the other deatheater when he was hit from behind with the cruciatus. Ms. Figg got the other, while someone, to his relief, stunned the Deatheater attacked Harry.
It turned out to be Remus and Sirius, who quickly ran to Harry. Remus quickly greeted Arabella while Sirius pulled Harry up. "Dumbledore got your message,' Remus was saying to Arabella.
She responded "We need to get Harry to Hogwarts soon, he's got a broken arm among other things."
"Harry?" Sirius questioned with a hug. Harry gave him a weak grin, "I'm mostly fine." Albeit in a lot of pain.
Sirius let Harry lean against them as they silently moved on.
He was barely aware when they made it to Hogwarts and on to the infirmary, where he was given the usual treatment -shoved onto a bed and given a sleeping potion.
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He woke up feeling much better, to see the ceiling of the infirmary. Sirius sitting next to him and noticed the he was awake.
"Hi Harry," he said with concern clouding his eyes. "Pomfrey wants said your arm would be healed in a day or two."
Harry looked and saw him arm in a splint. "Well I feel better, but still somewhat tired. How did the death eaters get to me at the Dursleys'?"
"I don't know -but they are gone now, and your relatives weren't seriously hurt, and now they don't remember a thing.
"So am I going back?" This he asked with mixed feelings. He deserved to be there, but they really were irritating.
His godfather raised an eyebrow. "Of course not -and before you ask- " (anticipating Harry's next question) "-we already got your stuff." Harry grinned at him, and he smiled back.
At this point Madam Pomfrey came out and started fussing. Harry looked at her in alarm.
"Sirius-"
"Don't worry, she knows." And before Harry could ask where he was going to be staying food was being shoved into him, and Sirius was being shoved out the door.
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