What Happened to Sweet Sixteen?

A young man sat quietly in the back seat of his uncle's car as it sped along the streets of London, but this was no ordinary young man; he was a wizard, and a very famous wizard at that. Harry Potter was perhaps the most famous wizard of his generation, but it was not by his choice or even to his liking. When he was just an infant an evil wizard named Tom Riddle had tried to kill him. Tom had become infamous in the wizarding world by torturing and murdering numerous innocent people as the self named 'Lord Voldemort', so terrifying that, to this day, witches and wizards refused to even speak his name. But his reign of terror had ended on Halloween night, 1981 when the Potter family was betrayed by a close friend and Voldemort had come to kill them. After killing James and then Lily Potter, Voldemort had turned his wand on the innocent 15 month old boy and uttered the killing curse once again. But it failed inexplicably and rebounded on the caster, throwing the evil wizard out of his own body. And baby Harry had survived with only a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. And for that, the entire wizarding world knew who he was…for he was "The Boy Who Lived."

On Harry's right Dudley, his extremely overweight and bullying cousin, cautiously sat, trying comically in vain to be smaller so he wouldn't accidently touch his freaky cousin. His uncle watched him from the rear view mirror suspiciously. None of the Dursley family had uttered a word since the train station. When Harry had been about to leave the train station, a small group from the Order of the Phoenix took it upon themselves to put the fear of god into Vernon Dursley. Now Vernon's face had not changed from the odd comical purple shade since the train station.

With all the nervous glances from his cousin and angry glares from the front of the car, both his aunt and uncle were not happy with Harry. Harry was oblivious to all of it. Harry gazed out the window as the world whipped by; thinking hard about what Mrs. Weasley had asked him in the train station.

"Oh, and Harry dear - how are you?" she had asked with concern.

"Fine," Harry had deliberately lied. He did not know how he would ever be fine again. Less than a week before, he had lost his Godfather Sirius Black during a running battle in the Department of Mysteries, fighting against a band of Death Eaters that had lured Harry into an ambush. Sirius had taunted his cousin Bellatrix near the end of the battle and subsequently was killed by her as his stunned body had fallen through a mysterious arch and could not be recovered. The awful memory of his Godfather falling through the Veil as he stood helplessly by and did nothing replaying over and over in his sleep deprived brain.

Before long the car slowed and stopped at the Dursley's destination. Vernon hurried out from the right side of the car to try and intimidate Harry, and to warn him about trying to tell those 'freak' people lies about him treating his nephew badly, but Harry did not give his uncle a second glance. He already had his trunk and owl's cage out of the boot and was mindlessly hauling them inside the sterile and loveless house. For a fleeting moment Vernon was concerned with the vacant look in the boy's eyes, but that moment passed in the blink of an eye as his anger resurfaced and doubled upon realizing that Harry was only ignoring him.

"Inconsiderate freak," he growled through clenched teeth as he stomped into the still open door.

Vernon noisily lumbered up the stairs toward the smallest bedroom where his family begrudgingly allowed the freak to stay every summer. The door was almost closed, but Vernon managed to roughly squeeze his beefy hand with swollen sausage fingers against the door and shoved it back open as swiftly as he could. A violent crack sounded as Vernon forced his way into the room, slamming the door into the plaster of the wall. The only way you could tell that Harry reacted to Vernon was he had turned and stared in the general direction of his uncle.

With a single stride Vernon's face encompassed Harry's field of vision. Vernon shook one fatty finger in Harry's face, but still there was no reaction from Harry. "How dare you tell those bloody freaks," Vernon bellowed as spittle flew from his mouth, "horrid lies of us mistreating you."

Harry stared blankly, unresponsive to Vernon's verbal onslaught. His apathy only seemed to enrage his uncle further.

"So you feel that we have been mistreating you," his voice and face changing to a macabre look of anticipation his voice gaining an odd excitement as his walrus mustache glistened with spittle, "Well no more of that. From now on you will get no treatment… good or bad. Yes, we have to allow you to live here but that does not mean we have to interact with you. You can live under my roof until the end of time for all I care. Just don't be surprised when my family gives you no heed."

Dully Harry responded, "Yes, Uncle Vernon."

With a look of triumph Vernon condescendingly retorted. "I am so glad we had this chat. Let me be the first and last of this family to tell you, good-bye you worthless little freak! After this no one is giving notice you live here." With those words Vernon left his room and Harry mechanically went back to unpacking as if nothing had happened at all.

That was the last word Vernon or Petunia said to Harry for the next two weeks, but Harry did not mind at all; the silent treatment was much better than being endlessly verbally abused. Harry was lonely though, after years of Hogwarts he had become accustomed to having his friends around, and he missed having someone, almost anyone around to talk to.

He had settled into a mind numbing routine: get up in the morning, eat some bran cereal, and go toil with the garden. In the afternoon Vernon would get home and Harry would methodically wash the day's road grime off of the car. To avoid them, after he finished washing the car, he would walk to the park and back. From there he would go work on his homework and then out to the flowerbed to listen to the nightly news, which was why he was now lying in the front garden under the open lounge window trying his best not to be noticed by the neighbors who all thought he was a criminally insane hoodlum thanks to his relatives.

Although he was still dressed in his cousin's humongous grungy castoffs, Harry was rather impressed with his muscles as they started to fill out from all the constant chores he was forced to do. All of the digging and lifting in the garden had made his legs and back stouter and the repetitive motions of washing and waxing his Uncle's car had toned his arms and shoulders until he was beginning to develop an athlete's build. He still looked starved but a little healthier; with more of a gymnasts build than a rugby player. Though no one would be able to see any of the new definition his muscles had under the shabby hand-me-down white oxford shirt. The only thing endearing about his wardrobe was the fact that his warn blue jeans were now baggy, since this was the big rage with people his age.

Harry was only half listening to the news about a family of boa constrictors that was found in the countryside near London, relieved that no attacks were in the news yet. Harry assumed with all of the Death Eaters in custody, that Voldemort was lying low and plotting once more. He smiled when he thought about Lucius Malfoy in Jail. Harry was jolted out of his reverie by a booming voice.

"Boy! What do you think you're doing?"

Harry looked up and through the open window to spot a purple-faced uncle Vernon glaring down at him. Harry would have laughed except Vernon was still glaring at him. "How dare you sit out here in the broad daylight where anyone could see you?"

Harry stood up and dusted off his shabby loose fitting clothes. "What do you want me to do, sit in the living room and watch with you?"

"Get away from this window NOW!" Vernon's bellowing voice echoed off of the houses across the street.

Harry rolled his eyes; "Fine" Harry said flatly and turned to walk out of the yard in the direction of the park.

Vernon hissed, "Where do you think you are going?"

"I am going to the park," Harry said with a smirk, "You would not want me to tell my friends you are locking me in my room do you, Vernon?" His uncle quickly shut the window without another word to Harry. The young man made the short trek to the park, smirking a little to himself as he trudged down the sidewalk, his worn trainers flapping softly with each step. No one was there because it was nearing dusk and the dinner hour so he sat in one of the working swings just staring at his feet. He watched the shadows lengthen and engulf the ground around him. His mind blissfully blank as he enjoyed the feel of the cool air on his face.

"Who do you think you are," someone growled, breaking Harry out of his daydream. Looking up he saw an angry Dudley. Harry was confused did Dudley actually want him to answer this question? Dudley continued, "How dare you talk to my father in such a way. You are an embarrassment to this family," Dudley said between drags on his smoke.

"Me, an embarrassment? Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

The cigarette still clutched between his lips Dudley walked up and stared down trying to tower over the sitting Harry. "What is that supposed to mean," he asked as he blew smoke in Harry's face.

Stifling the cough Harry ground out around his gritted his teeth, "Look at you smoking like a chimney stack and a stomach that gives me the distinct impression that you haven't passed up a desert in years."

Harry was flipped on the ground out of his swing before he could react. His shoulders and head hit the pea gravel before his feet swung over his head, forcing a painful backwards summersault. Harry jumped to his feet in shock. Dudley had shoved his chest and knocked him to the ground. Harry stepped back trying to get his bearings with his head still ringing from landing on the gravel while Dudley advanced on him. "Come on you girly blouse, afraid of fat Dudley?"

Harry clenched his fists tightly, "Why don't you try that now!"

Harry thought he was ready as Dudley stormed over to him and raised his left fist, but he had forgotten about Dudley's boxing training. Using his seeker reflexes he ducked the massive left fist only to move right into the waiting uppercut of Dudley's right. Harry felt his nose mashed against his face and swore he heard a distinct pop. His head snapped back as he felt the flood of blood wash from his nose running down his face and chin. He stumbled around; tears filling his eyes, not able to see what was coming next, his head still fuzzy from the blows. The air was shoved out of his lungs as one of Dudley's fists crushed his internal organs. Harry crumpled in a heap on the ground clutching his stomach and futilely trying to stop his nosebleed.

Harry heard Dudley snicker, "No Marquis of Queensbury rules here." As Dudley's massive booted foot kicked into Harry's groin, Harry let out a blood curdling high-pitched scream and passed out.

Harry was being shaken gently as he unwillingly and painfully came back to the world. He wanted to open his eyes but they felt puffy and swollen. Straightening his legs the shooting pain from his groin sent stars into the blackness of his vision. He could hear a female voice frantically calling his name from a distance. He said the first thing that came to mind: "Is he gone?"

"Is who gone Harry? Who did this to you?" Harry now recognized the voice - it was Tonks. "Where are you hurt?"

There was no way that Harry could tell her that he had been kicked in his manhood. The shame and embarrassment washed over him as he tried to stifle the first sobs but they soon came in full and unstoppable force. His body shook as he cried; not only was there the shame of being beaten but he wished mightily that anyone else had found him. Had any male found him he could have kept it together, but the caring and concerned metamorph broke through his already fragile barriers. Harry heard her mutter a charm and he could now breathe from his nose again.

Tentatively Tonks gently touched the still shaking boy, "Harry, please tell me who did this."

Harry swallowed and hiccoughed a couple of times before he could get his voice back, "It was my fault; I provoked the fight."

"Fight?" Tonks' anger started to flare, "Who did you fight with?"

"I don't want to say."

"Tell me Harry," her voice leveled to a command. "Whoever did this should be taken care of. I think you are really hurt Harry. Look, you can't even straighten out. Where are you hurt?"

"I don't want to tell you!"

"Why?"

Harry lay there for a moment trying to think of a way out of this. The only thing he could think of came spilling out, "He just kicked me…hard. Someplace private and painful. OK?"

"Oh," was all Tonks said at first. Then she shook her head, "Harry I grew up with two brothers. I know where you got kicked is embarrassing. Just tell me one thing…is the pain getting better or worse?"

Harry went to straighten out his leg again and gritted his teeth in agony, "Worse!" was all he could get out.

Tonks eyes went wide and suddenly she was not her usual bubbly self, but the trained Auror. Her voice was stern and commanding without a bit of panic to it. "Harry, I need you to sit up. Do not put your legs out straight. Hold them against your stomach with your arms. Come on Harry … SIT UP!" Her last words came as a booming command. She grabbed him by the shoulders and with a heave sat him up.

Harry thought the pain was going to make him pass out again. The world started to swim and his vision darkened around the edges. By the time he got his bearings back, Tonks was standing over him with her wand trained on him. Harry tried to ask what she was doing but she had already started. Her wand went swish and flick as she yelled, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Harry started to rise into the air and he looked up confusedly at Tonks. She was having a hard time keeping him in the air so he was only about two feet off the ground. Maybe she is trying to have me stand, he thought. He had just started to let go of his legs, when she hissed "Don't move Harry," through her teeth. "I am sorry, but this is going to hurt."

In a split second Harry's eyes went wide as Tonks withdrew the spell. His body made a small thud he fell back to the ground. Harry howled in pain, burying his head between his knees and slowly rocking on his haunches. Harry did not know how long he was in the fetal position when the world finally came back to him. Off in the distance he could hear the traffic in the neighborhood, a few birds happily chirping in the trees and Tonks trying madly to get his attention.

Without raising his head he hissed, "Why did you do that?"

Tonks sat noiseless for a moment. Hesitantly she started, "I don't want to embarrass you."

Still not raising his head to look at her, "Tonks," he started irritably, "I just had to admit to you I got kicked there, so the least you can do is tell me why you were trying to hurt me more."

"First off, Mr. Potter, that was to help you."

"How?" Harry interrupted angrily.

"If you would let me finish I will tell you." She waited to make sure he was not going to interrupt again before telling him, "When a young man is kicked in the groin hard enough his," she swallowed nervously, "testicles leave the scrotum and go into the body." After hearing the word 'testicles' Harry's head shot up to look Tonks in the face, his eyes open wide as saucers. Tonks took another deep breath and continued. "You told me the pain was getting worse which meant your... testicles were starting to swell. If they were left where they were, they would have burst."

"B-b-b-burst!"

"Yes Harry," Tonks said seriously, "it's not like I could move them by hand, so I had to make them move down by jarring the body. Are you still hurting?"

Harry pondered the question for a moment, "No the stabbing pain is gone, now I just have an intense dull ache."

"Let me make you an ice pack." Tonks took off her pack from her waist and handed it to Harry. "Hold this at arm's length. I don't want the water sucked out of your face." With her wand she concentrated on the empty space above the pack and said, "Stillicidium Gelo!"

Harry could feel the air around him go dry while the blood on his face and neck caked and cracked. A swirl of water was building above the pack as it solidified and fell into the pack in small pebbles of ice. Once Tonks was satisfied with the amount in the pack she stopped the spell.

She held out her hand and Harry whimpered as she helped him to his feet. Gingerly he placed the ice pack around his waist carefully laying it against his groin. There was a small sigh as the fresh ice started to numb the dull ache. Tonks took him by the arm because he still could not walk on his own accord. Harry looked down at himself and was shocked at his appearance. His sleeve was stained murky crimson. His entire body was either covered in sand or caked blood. He realized Tonks was walking him out of the park toward the Dursley's home.

"Wait, I cannot go there like this, I …" Harry started

"Your family is going to see what their darling little Dudley did to you!" Her words dripping with sarcasm at the mention of Dudley's name.

"No!" Harry stopped and pulled himself from her support, almost falling to the ground due to his still weak knees. "You don't understand. They will blame it all on me and I will get in trouble," he said, his eyes pleading with her not to do this.

Tonks could not see his reasoning. Over his protests she dragged him to the front door of the Dursley's. She pounded on the door continually. Vernon whipped the door open, his face purple with rage. His voice came in a low hiss, "What do you think you're doing? Making a scene in front of the whole neighborhood, boy!"

Tonks spoke in commanding voice; Harry was surprised at how un-clumsy she was right now. He would have laughed if he were not so embarrassed. "I was the one who knocked, so talk to me!" Tonks stepped toe to toe with the large man, her stance intimidating and not afraid of the blustering walrus.

With his jaw clenched he kept his tone quiet, "Please step inside, the both of you, I don't want to be seen talking with you people."

Tonks and Harry quietly entered the house and waited for the door to shut. Vernon turned to Tonks, "How dare you…"

Tonks erupted into a tirade before Vernon could finish the sentence, "How dare me?" she yelled. "Your nephew Harry is standing here covered in blood and you have not asked one word as to what is wrong with him!"

Vernon smiled evilly. "I already know the boy attacked my son in the park."

"Try the other way around." Harry hung his head while Tonks and his uncle bickered back and forth about whose fault it was. The more they argued the louder it got. After about 15 minutes when Vernon made a statement questioning Tonks' ability to walk up to a unicorn, but in crude Muggle words, she grabbed Harry and marched him up to his room. Harry was soon standing in the middle of a whirlwind as his clothes and other belongings went flying into his trunk.