A/N- I know its been a long time since I wrote a story, let alone posted it on but I have been working on this for a while. Please bear with me as this is a Writing In Progress.
Disclaimer-I do not known Harry Potter that right belongs to J. and various affliates. I only play with the characters for my own amusement.
'Example' - speech
Example - thoughts
'Example' - Parseltongue
The world had changed over night, panic and hysteria fought their way upwards among the magical people of the world, Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back. The Ministry of Magic were denying all knowledge and were offering bribes left, right and centre in return for silence.
But yet across the magical nations rumours spread of the return of the Dark Lord, the truth that had been spoken by Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Lived which had been ignored, and also of the Battle at the British Ministry of Magic by the aforementioned enemies. But Harry Potter, hero of the Wizarding World, knew nothing of the rumours and gossip spreading around the Magical World. He had been returned to Privet Drive like a Toy to a Toy-box.
Sat by his window, once again barred, Harry watched as the sun rose from beneath the horizon. His wrist being held in by his other hand as he clutched it to his chest wishing desperately that it might heal before his Aunt and Uncle woke.
1 Month later
'Boy! Get up, get up, you ungrateful freak.' Aunt Petunia shouted, banging on the door of the cupboard under the stairs. Inside the cupboard a young man carefully uncurled himself, making sure not to bang his head on the stairs above. Manoeuvring carefully out of the door, Harry mentally assessed all his injuries; broken arm, fractured maybe broken ribs, collar bone bruised. Tenderly he raised a hand to his face, Dam! He thought; a black eye as well.
'Hurry up. Here take the pan and don't burn the bacon!' Harry carefully took the pan off his aunt, but unbeknownst to Harry, his cousin was stood right behind him.
'Boy!' Uncle Vernon yelled as he entered the kitchen. 'You ungrateful freak! Look what you've done to Dudley.' Dudley at this point in time was clutching his beefy arm as if bacon fat had landed on it. Harry on the other hand was lying on the floor, pan on the floor next to him whilst his skin was starting to redden considerably from where the bacon fat had landed on him.
'I'll teach you to burn Dudley you ungrateful murdering freak,' Vernon shouted, 'You thought we didn't know about that didn't you?' Vernon's fist landed on Harry's face, 'You thought we had no idea, that we didn't know you murdered that boy at your freak school. Just like you murdered your parents! Murderer!'
Blows rained down on Harry as his Uncle roared, he curled up trying to protect himself as punches merged with kicks until he couldn't tell what body parts were being used to damage his already beaten body. Just as Harry's vision started to darken his Uncle chucked a glass of cold water from the fridge over him.
'Oh no you don't, freak! Don't want you to miss out on all the fun now do we?' his Uncle jeered at him. Harry then realised that his Aunt must have taken Dudley out for the day, probably just in case Uncle Vernon got violent with them too.
'Now Freak, what sort of punishment should a murderer get?' Vernon said as he dragged Harry upstairs to the Dudley's second bedroom. 'Freak! That's what you are boy, a Freak who deserves everything he gets.' Before Harry could protest, even if he had the strength to do so, his hands were bound to the headboard, his body stomach down. Vernon wrapped one end of his belt round his beefy hand and then proceeded to whip Harry with the other end, the buckle gouging into his back leaving bloody marks and each time the belt rose, droplets of blood flicked off staining the walls, floor and bed.
Great! thought Harry First I spend the summer getting beat up by my muggle relatives and then I have to clean up my own blood afterwards. After that one thought which flickered through his mind the world went black again.
When Harry woke Uncle Vernon was gone, listening carefully he could hear the TV on downstairs and the whinging of Dudley. It was getting darker outside even as Harry struggled to pull himself to standing, moving silently even with all his injuries Harry made his way downstairs to collect the cleaning supplies from the kitchen. As he passed by Aunt Petunia she ignored him, Harry took that as permission to continue. Collecting the supplies and returning upstairs, Harry set to work removing all the evidence of what had happened, it was past midnight by the time he had finished. Putting everything away, Harry relocated to his cupboard where he had put a week into the summer holidays as the Dursleys's claimed that Dudley needed space to grow.
Reviews are always appreciated, thank you.
