As Harry leapt, hitting a knee on the fence as he did so, he could hear the angry threats and protests of his aggressor's. Over the fence, and knowing he was finally safe, he wiped the sweat out of his now stinging eyes. He closed them suddenly, though, at the agonizing pain radiating from one of his ribs, directly under his heart. He hadn't realized Dudley had truly hurt him and there was a sudden rush of anger as he realized his twat of a cousin had been successful in his "Harry hunting".

Lying down on the grass he sighed, the feeling of its wetness was a welcomed surprised on his sweaty body and, briefly, he was able to forget everything. His peaceful state was quite interrupted when water started squirting at him from a multitude of sprinklers placed in the ground of the yard. He jumped up to avoid becoming too wet and grabbed at his rib as another spike of pain erupted inside of him.

Harry mentally cursed himself for jumping up so fast when he'd known about the injury prior to his mistake. He inwardly consoled himself, thinking that maybe it wasn't so bad, because he wasn't that hurt.

Things could be worse. This situation is pleasant in comparison to many.

I'll be at Hogwarts by this time tomorrow and I'll never have to come back again.

He sighed, his eyes glazing over as he thought of how much happiness his life might be capable of bringing him from tomorrow on. Realizing it was nearly dinner time he decided to return to the Dursleys' house, thinking that maybe they wouldn't be that hungry…

Maybe I'll get some food tonight and fill out so completely that by tomorrow no one will question my health.

It was a sarcastic thought but also a real wish that Harry had inside his head; he smiled slightly as he walked through the stranger's back yard and walked out their entrance gate. He winced at nearly every step, deciding that as soon as he was allowed to use magic tomorrow he'd mend his possibly broken, or at least fractured, rib.

At least the bloke didn't hit me anywhere people would see.

Harry knew that the only thing that could ruin tomorrow would be if someone thought he'd been abused during the summer and took pity on him. The only thing worse than the constant praise and attention he got for being 'the boy who lived' was the feeling of mass pity, which was another thing Harry become accustomed to feeling from strangers.

As he neared the house he could see his cousin, Dudley, sitting out front on the steps, leering at him in a way that made harry shiver. It seemed that his friends had dispersed to their own homes, possibly to antagonize some other small person, and he was left with just Dudley to deal with.

'Harry! You're going to get it, freak, for embarrassing me in from of my friends!" As the pudgy boy spoke Harry simply stared back, indefinitely at a loss of words. It seemed illogical, truly, really, that Dudley was angry at him. He wasn't surprised that his cousin wanted to beat on him some more because, in all honesty, the boy was never satisfied with the amount of beatings Harry allowed to be done to him. But it seemed incredulous and, quite frankly stupid that the bigger boy would blame Harry for his own failures.

"Dudley, I did not embarrass you. You must realize that if you'd really wanted to hurt me, you'd have caught me. Maybe you're simply growing a soft spot for me, after all these years?" It was obvious that the last statement was more of a hopeful question, but as Harry knew that his suggestion was plaintively untrue, he closed his eyes and braced himself for his cousin's wrath.

He was surprised, though, when instead of punching him in his regular target zones, such as the chest or lower abdomen, his cousin crushed his meaty fist into Harry's very breakable face. He could feel the weight of the fist break his noise as well as hearting the snap itself. He opened his eyes, staring in shock at Dudley who, to his confusion was now vibrating angrily. He opened his mouth in protest, tasting the blood streaming from his noise; before he could string together a combination of words that made sense Dudley had brought his foot up to kick Harry in his most sensitive spot, located between his legs.

Falling to the ground and screaming, Harry could feel his magic vibrating in a defensive reaction to the pain he felt. Trying to regain his composure before his magic took control of his actions; he simply lay there, sputtering in a still shocked mass on the grass.

"Make all the protest you want, freak, but seeing as this is our last day together, I'm not scared of what you're stupid wizard-friends might do to me. You think I've been avoiding your face because I like you, freak? You and the rest of your freak friends disgust me." As Dudley finished his 'grand speech', all Harry could think was that hopefully those were the last words he'd hear out of his cousin's mouth for the rest of his life.

Though he feared speaking loud enough for his enraged cousin to hear, he replied under his breath, "even if that's the reason you never hit my face, I can't believe you kicked me in the balls…" And, though he didn't think that Dudley had heard him, his cousin turned again toward him, and kicked him, possibly with as much power as he possessed, in the lower part of his stomach. Harry cried out once more and curled into the tightest ball he could; he felt Dudley spit on him before the boy turned and walked inside the house. He lay like that, defensively curled into a ball, for hours, reflecting on his experience with the Dursley's each summer.

Deciding to forgive Dudley's outburst and pretend as if nothing had happened, because he was leaving in the morning, Harry sat up, this time slowly, in remembrance of his earlier mistake. A terrible pain still shot through him, though, this time for the pit of his stomach, and he hunched over, the sudden wave of nausea making him empty the non-existent contents of his stomach. After the days he'd gone without eating, most of those contents consisted of bile, and after nothing would come out he sat, painfully dry-heaving, for what felt like a lifetime.

Once his body had calmed down he stood up, faintly noticing the pain all over his body and the crusty feeling of dried blood on his face. Walking inside the house, he smelled the distant remnants of the roast his aunt had cooked for dinner, which by now he knew was gone. He sighed, walking once around the bottom half of the house, trying to burn it into his memory. Even if he hadn't enjoyed his time spent with the Dursley's, it was a large chunk of his life and he didn't want to forget one thing about it.

After Sirius had died Harry had suppressed a lot of memories he'd had of them together because it was too painful to remember. Now, just a little over a year later, he couldn't remember all of the memories of his beloved godfather and feared he'd be unable to ever remember everything. So he'd decided not to ever forget anything he thought of as an impact on himself and his life.

He halted to a stop in front of his old bedroom, located under the stairs; though it may have seemed cruel to many, he'd almost enjoyed his time spent in the cupboard, being able to hide away from his family and any other reality he did not wish to face.

Staring at the cupboard, he made a decision that he'd spend his last night back in the room where he'd spent the majority of his sleeps. He hurriedly shuffled up the stairs and into his bedroom, throwing his small amount of possessions in his trunk messily.

"BOY!" Harry's head turned swiftly to stare at the empty doorway and, realizing the scream had come from a sleepy Vernon that was still in bed, he grabbed the remainder of his things and shoved them in, locked the trunk and hurried back down the stairs with his trunk in one hand and Hedwig and her cage in the other.

Settling his possessions outside the cupboard, he eagerly ducked inside and lay down. As Harry drifted into sleep he wondered to himself whether or not Snape would teach him occlumency every again. In all truth the only reason he still wanted to learn was to be able to access all the memories he had of his godfather, but maybe if he was able to convince Dumbledore… Harry snorted, realizing how ridiculous the idea was after what had happened last time.

Maybe I'll just tell Snape that I'd like to learn occlumency once more- after invading his mind the last time- to retrieve memories of my godfather whom he'd hated. Oh, and if that's not enough of a reason for him, I'll mention he should do me a favour because him and my dad were such good friends.

And with that final thought lighting his soul, consciousness dispersed.