Attn: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.
The first week back with the Dursleys was always the hardest for Harry. To him it was like flipping a switch, he had to go from normal access to food, a comfortable bed, the relative security of the castle despite DADA professors out to get him, friends, and even Quidditch to then come "home" to the Dursleys and have nothing. The Dursleys equaled starvation, no real shelter, beatings, chores, and loneliness. To him the loneliness was by far the worst. All he heard all summer was, freak this, and boy that. It was a wonder he even learnt his name growing up here he thought bitterly, as he wrapped his ribs with an old shirt of Dudley's that he had torn into strips.
He was on day 5 of his "adjustment week" as he commonly referred to it. S far it seemed this summer Uncle Vernon was favoring kicks to the ribs he mused sourly. Last summer it had been blows to the stomach and before that whippings to the back. His breaths were short as he struggled to ignore the pain as reached to wrap his upper ribs. They were most certainly broken and he feared a punctured lung if he inhaled too deeply. So far this summer had been normal with Uncle Vernon and Dudley, but he could see something was up with his aunt. She had been avoiding him lately, not even yelling unless the others were around. He didn't really understand what was going on with her except that whatever it was, her behavior was slowly starting to unravel him.
Harry sat on his flimsy mattress and started to consider his Aunt Petunia. He started to notice her behavior was off on day 2 when he was recovering from his "welcome home" whipping. He had been laying on his side favoring his ribs and back, when the distinctive repetitive knock on his door came alerting him it was his designated bathroom time. He heard the clicks of the locks as they were released and stumbled forward as soon as the door was opened. He was sure he was going to run into the wall of the hallway opposite and surely wake the whole house, but Aunt Petunia had instead caught him by the elbow. She then helped him to the bathroom although while assisting him she hadn't looked at him once and walked away as soon as he was inside the bathroom. At first that morning he had assumed she had helped so he wouldn't wake anyone, but then when his chore list came along with an apple he was more confused than ever. His only chore listed that day had been to weed the back garden. He had turned to look at her, but again she didn't acknowledge him. He had been too sore to consider it further and that evening she had been yelling at him about getting dinner served like normal.
Her odd behavior continued in the absence of Vernon and Dudley. Without a single word to him, she had assigned him the least amount of chores since he could remember. Why was he so concerned? It was the silence and unpredictability and it was driving him insane! All day, all he thought about was Sirius and his doomed occlumency lessons with Snape. He thought of nothing else, and the silence was eating him alive, allowing his thoughts to linger. Why couldn't she just shout at him as he deserved. It was like she knew that the ultimate punishment for his behavior this past year was to allow him to wallow in his guilt, letting it seep into him, and become part of him like a disease.
knock knock knock
Her quiet rapping on his door brought him back to awareness. It was his morning bathroom time, marking the beginning of another silent day. He dutifully trekked to the bathroom and turned on the shower to cold because merlin forbid he use hot water, oh no that would just be horrible he ranted to himself angrily. As he set his glasses down on the bathroom counter he paused to look at his ribs and back in the mirror. His back showed the evidence of his latest whipping, with 10 lines crisscrossing along his torso, belt holes and buckle marks clearly visible. The marks were an angry red, matching his mood perfectly. On the other hand his ribs on the right side were purple, black, and green. He could tell that one of them was misaligned and obviously broken. At least the cold water would help with his bruising he thought bitterly.
After dressing in Dudley's oversized clothes, Aunt Petunia sent him to work on breakfast and once again presented him with the short chore list of only weeding the garden. After spending his morning contemplating her odd behavior along with the complete and utter disaster of the last year his anger had peaked and he couldn't take her silence any longer.
"Aunt Petunia can I ask you question?" He asked as steadily as he could, trying vehemently to hide the anger in his voice.
"What is it Harry? You know Vernon and Dudley will be down soon." She questioned, sounding exasperated.
"Well, I was just wondering why I am only working on the garden this summer?" He asked quietly, her tone confusing him which caused him to be suddenly unsure of himself.
"Are you really questioning my authority right now? Do you want to spend the morning under your uncle's belt?" She hissed at him, eyes narrowed.
"No, no Aunt Petunia! I apologize for bringing it up!" Harry tried to backtrack, knowing it was never his place to question and his sore body already protesting at the movement as he shook his head and took a step back. His previous anger had now completely deflated as fear took its place.
"Look Harry, just take the list and be grateful that you only have to work on the garden this summer, and no more questions got it?" She responded evenly with a flat tone.
"Yes Aunt Petunia and again I apologize. I'll just head out to the garden now." Harry scrambled to plate and set the breakfast he had just finished. But before he could even turn to bring the plates to the table Aunt Petunia was there taking them from him and placing them at their appropriate settings. She then did the unthinkable and handed him a piece of toast and bacon from her own plate. He just stared at the offering as if it would jump and attack him like one of the Acromantula's from Aragog's nest in the Forbidden Forrest.
"Go on take it before Vernon and Dudley realize breakfast is ready! Hurry up boy and take it outside so you can start on the garden now!" She hissed, voice low and threatening. Harry didn't need to be told twice and disappeared with the food in hand in the blink of an eye.
Harry was squatting under the cool morning sun contemplating his conversation with his Aunt that morning. He just couldn't understand why she was acting almost decently towards him. He knew there had to be some kind of trick, that he just couldn't figure out. He had this gut feeling that he needed to figure it out soon otherwise he would be regretting it.
Petunia stood at the window facing the garden from the kitchen watching Harry work. She thought back to his questions just that morning and realized she would have to be more careful about how she treated Harry in case Vernon and Dudley caught on. This last year had been horrible for her. Last summer Vernon had treated Harry so sickeningly that she just couldn't stomach it any longer. She had always been jealous of her sister Lily. Lily got everything she wanted, including being a witch. Lily had had friends, a husband, the perfect baby, and their parents had doted on her constantly while not even giving Petunia the time of day. Then that damn wizarding war had started up and her perfect sister Lily just had to get right in the middle of it. She didn't even think that Lily knew what she was really fighting for and instead got dragged in to it by that husband of hers, Potter. Petunia couldn't stand Potter. She had met him once, the only time Lily brought him home to meet their parents, and he had been so arrogant, raising his nose at everything and everyone. She was so angry at Lily for leaving her to go to that school but also for marrying Potter, because no matter what, Petunia Evans had always loved and looked up to Lily. She knew that Lily could have done so much better than Potter. And the worst part of the whole thing was that not only was Lily murdered in the end because of Potter, but so were their parents and she blamed Lily for that. So on that dreadful day that she found Harry sitting outside her door, left in a basket in the cold of night, she just couldn't do it. She couldn't find it in herself to care for him the same way she cared for Dudley and seeing Lily reflected in those sparkling emerald eyes only perpetuated her anger.
Now, here she stood watching him weed the garden with broken ribs from the foot of her husband, suffering from his continued abuse, some 14 years later, and she regretted it. She was finally over what Lily had done and had opened her eyes to how horrible Vernon and Dudley acted towards her own nephew. Harry was her own blood and after last summer she just couldn't take it anymore. As soon as Harry had left she had confronted Vernon. She had imagined he would accept her decision like he had those many years ago when she had found Harry on their doorstep, but instead he had smacked her across the face. She had bred a house full of hate and nothing would ever be the same again. Now she couldn't even figure out how to rescue Harry, let alone herself from the situation she had put them in. So everyday since Harry had left to go to that magical school, while Vernon was gone at work, and Dudley away in school as well, she plotted. She tried to think of ways to get Harry away from this poisonous house, and even considered sending a letter to that friend Lily had always talked about, Severus Snape. But for some reason every time she sat down to start the letter, something would block her and she would just forget why and who she was writing to. She was starting to suspect that there was some kind magic preventing her from helping her and Harry. So, running out of time, she reached the decision last week, that she would give Harry as little to do as possible and sneak him as much food she could without gaining the attention of Vernon or Dudley, including Vernon's wrath.
Now, here she stood, watching Harry weed the garden, obviously favoring his broken ribs and all she could think was "I wish I could take it back." Petunia desperately wanted to take back what she had told Vernon about those magical people some 14 years ago. Instead she wished she had just accepted Harry lovingly, as an aunt should accept any nephew, because he certainly didn't deserve this. No, no one deserved this hell she had created.
NOTE: Next Chapter will focus solely on Harry, will try for twice weekly updates at least.