Disclaimer: I wish I owned it. Genius

Chapter Two!

Control is threatened.

Harry woke up with a gasp! Choking on air he sat up quickly and buried his face onto his knees. Calming down but still half sobbing Harry shuffled the bed sheet on to the floor and looked at the clock. 2: 30 stared right back at him in blazing red color. The color Voldmorts eyes were that night at the gravey- No! Stop! Harry violently shook his head.

'I'm sick of thinking those things!" he thought bitterly knowing they will never go away. He laid back down his pillow drenched with sweat. He founded he just didn't care he was too tired. He closed his dull weary eyes but couldn't go back to sleep. "And I'm sick of these damn Dursleys!'

He woke up that morning to the sunlight streaming down from the open window. 'At least they allow me that small delight' Harry thought groggily. He groaned throwing his hands up to clasps his head as it pounded away. Sitting up slowly he removed the still damn sheets from his naked skin. He raised his eyes before he could get a look at his body finding it rather disgusting. He moved his scabbed hands from chores over his torso grimacing as he realized he could count every single rib he had. His hands dropped.

Harry listening quietly moved around to get some clothes that were still crumpled up in his trunk. It had been three weeks since he had come back from the Hogwarts and still he couldn't find it in him to unpack. It was stupid but he felt he would be accepting things that way and he knew he could never get over Cedric…his first true death, the first one he'd seen in action besides his parents, which couldn't be counted as he could barely remember. 'This is war.' Harry silently reminded himself, mouthing the words as if he could let them escape his mind; wishing they would.

Grabbing the clothes he slowly opened his door, looking up and down the hallway. Sneakily he crept into the bathroom across the hall and locked the door behind him. Avoiding the mirror he turned on the water and got in, barely noticing it was still ice cold. It felt good after his fever that night; slowly he could feel his mind clearing up and his headache easing. Harry gave a relieved sigh as he got out a few minutes later even though he knew it was still too early for the Dursleys to get up. He wasn't going to take his chances today.

Putting on his ratty clothes and opening Harry didn't even notice the large hand that descended upon his shoulder harshly. Snapping his neck up to meet the eyes of his still sleep induced Uncle he knew he was in trouble.

"BOY! Why are you up this early, sneaking around the house aren't you! Freak! And how dare you use our good clean water for yourself! You freaks don't deserve our kindness!" Uncle Vernon yelled but not loud enough to wake the rest of the house. Steering Harry closer to his room he roughly shoved his nephew into it making him fall onto the floor face first.

"Don't you dare come out of this room boy for the rest of the day and NO funny stuff either you hear?" He muttered dangerously before waddling back through the hallway after shutting and locking the many locks on Harry's door.

Harry slumping again after he had pushed himself half way off the floor couldn't believe his luck.

Vernon must really not be awake. Harry nodded his head in agreement with that statement knowing the only reason he had gotten away without really any punishment was because the wale of the man wanted to go back to his warm bed.

Picking himself up, he looked up towards his window as he heard wings fluttering. Hedwig landed on the desk staring at him with her intelligent yellow eyes.

"Hey girl, don't give me that look, I couldn't help it. Again…" He unconsciously rubbed his already sore shoulder.

Harry glazed out the window, a dirty dish in his hand he was about to wash. The sun had drifted down and low clouds had taken up the sky. It appeared foggy and gray, boring, dullish. Sometimes Harry wished that could be his life. Normal and boring. He sighed longingly knowing that would never happen. The dish made a soft plop as he dropped it into the filthy dish water. He narrowed his eyes into it, contemplating.

Making a decision he quickly emptied the sink of the water just as quickly refilling it. As he did so he couldn't help but stare down at the single plate surrounded by nothing; not even soap suds' the water washing them away. All Alone, not a single other piece of silverware around. It was still Dirty, still a mess, tainted…untouchable.

Harry jerked back, his hands gripping the sink until he felt his muscles creek and groan and the whites of his knuckles were standing out. He held back the gasp and vomit as it made his way up his throat. He struggled to take deep breaths, he struggled for control.

He had to get out of this house, he couldn't get enough air! Harry raced out of the kitchen, through the hallway; he abruptly stopped as he caught sight of the cupboard…His cupboard. His prison for 10 years of his life. This house, this house was his prison. Eyes gleamed dangerously in his rage. Harry slowly leaning towards the loud shrieking that was coming from the kitchen. His eyes never moved off of the cupboard.

"Freak! Get back here! UNGRATEFUL Freak! Boy! HOW DARE YOU FLOOD THE KITCHEN, MY KITCHEN! YOU WILL COME BACK AND CLEAN THIS INSTANT!" His Aunt screamed, never had he heard her so mad. Harry would have smirked if he could have worked his face. It remained frozen though, his rage only rising higher with every word out of her mouth. He had never felt this complete anger. This complete numbness. This complete desire to destroy. His aunt stormed into the hallway cutting words at the tip of her tongue before she caught sight of him. Her eyebrows that were in a dangerous V on her face slowly got deeper as he ignored her.

"Freak!"

'That is it.'

Harry slowly took his eyes away from the cage and he looked down before he brought them up starting from her feet to her paling face. Perhaps this is why he never looked in the mirror, he may not realize it but it wasn't disgust in her eyes; it was fear. Fear began to twist her features far worse than anger ever could. He was a vision from her nightmares, a particular nightmare she had several times a week. He was going to kill her; she could see the want rippling in his eyes.

"G-go-go to y-your room b-boy-y now!" She practically babbled in her fear. But it was loud enough he could hear it, not that he needed to, his whole being was focused on her, he watched as her breathing got faster and faster and how she started to sweat. How the muscles in her neck were flexing as she gulped over and over; how desperately she looked like she want to run. He watched this in a sort of slow motion, not really hearing the words but more of lip reading the meaning behind them. His whole world was changing. Harry made a startling realization as he could now seem the fear settling in her, what was she afraid of? He took a step towards her and she stumbled back screaming. No…surely not, him? She was afraid of him? He blanched as his whole body almost gave a sexual purr in pleasure.

Harry turn and ran. The front door opened itself on its own. He sprinted as fast as he could away, needing to be away, far away, from her screams that did not seem to stop.