Laying on his bed, curled into the foetal position, a dark haired teen slept fitfully. His dreams were about death and pain, darkness and torture. It was his sixth sense for danger that told him someone was in his room. Unknowing whether that someone was there to harm him, Harry curled himself up further, wincing at the pressure placed on his bruised ribs.

"I won't hurt you, you know." Came the unusually gentle voice of his cousin.

Confused, Harry unrolled just enough to turn his head in the directing of said voice. The quickly indrawn breath was all that Harry needed to know how bad his face must have looked.

"Dad really did a number on you, huh?"

A choking cough that he had intended to be a laugh was all the response that Harry could muster. The pain was intense and as he struggled to reach his water bottle to soothe his raw throat, his cousin stepped forward and passed it to him. Harry would have raised his eyebrow had he been able. As it was he couldn't open his left eye and his right was almost completely sealed shut. He could see just enough to make out the basic shape of his cousin and the lip of the bottle presented to him.

Harry drank slowly, the cold water quenching his thirst and cooling his throat. After he had drank his fill he tried to speak, curiosity winning over his immediate response to hide.

"Let me get mum, she told me to get her when you woke up."

Before Harry could beg his cousin to just leave him be, Dudley had made his way out of the room and he could already hear his thumping footsteps as he made his way down the stairs. Deciding to get himself into a less vulnerable position, Harry spent the next few minutes shimmying himself slowly into a sitting position, propped up by the wall with his legs dangling off the side of the bed.

Just as he had gotten himself comfortable, well as comfortable as he could get, his Aunt Petunia walked into the room. Her face was pale and seemed even thinner than normal.

"I'm glad you're finally awake." She didn't look at him as she spoke, instead choosing to look at a small area of floor in front of his bed. Harry couldn't decide if she was worried about him personally or what 'his kind' would do if he didn't wake up.

"How long have I been out?" was Harry's question. His voice was gruff and his throat constricted painfully once he had finished. Trying to ward off another coughing fit he didn't see his Aunt move towards him, rather he felt the bed dip as she sat at the foot of it, the water bottle from before held out towards him.

"You've been out cold since after dinner last night. It's just after 3pm now." His Aunt replied.

Harry nodded his head in understanding. He had been genuinely afraid of his uncle for the first time in his life last night. His Uncle's punishments had always been painful but normally no worse than a dozen or so hard slaps over his bottom and top of his thighs with a leather belt. God how that used to sting! Harry used to curl up on his cot in the cupboard under the stairs and cry, wondering when the pain was going to stop, when the blisters and welts would fade. The rest of his punishment was usually a lot of extra chores and a lack of food for several days. But last night! Harry shivered.

He didn't know what he had done that had upset his Uncle to that extent. Sure he knew that Vernon had a temper, he had always been quick to anger especially when the 'M' word was brought up. Even so, last night Harry had actually believed that he was going to die. Even Voldemort had never frightened Harry as much as his Uncle had last night. He knew that his Aunt Marge hated him but he never would have thought that she had such an evil streak in her that she would hold him still while he was beaten. Remembering the night before had caused Harry to tense and his already tender ribs were throbbing painfully. One thing that stood out in his mind was the fact that his Aunt, the same one who sat on his bed not daring to look at him, had not helped him. She had just sat there and let Vernon do his worst. Lifting his head to stare at her, his eyes hard and his voice firm Harry's patience ended and he began to rant.

"You just sat there." Harry saw his Aunt cringe slightly but he was either too upset to notice or too angry to care. "You saw what they were doing to me and you just sat there! How could you do that to me? Do you hate me that much? I know you never loved me, heck I don't think you ever even liked me but to just sit there while he…they." All of a sudden Harry was overcome and he started to cry, great heaving sobs that hurt so much more when you took into account his new injuries.

His Aunt sat on the end of the bed, her body tense. She sat through his rant, shrinking in on herself with every other word. In the end she sat, nervously, her fingers playing fretfully with the hem of her peach, woollen cardigan.

She let her nephew cry but didn't attempt to comfort him knowing that even in his highly emotional state that he would not want any comfort from her at this moment in time. Eventually the sobs slowed to hiccups and then they in-turn became sniffles. Waiting a further few minutes to make sure that Harry was spent, his Aunt then began to speak, barely audibly at first but gaining strength slowly throughout.

"You're right." Petunia said with a grimace. "I never did love you. I, we, thought of you as a burden."

Harry felt empty. It was one thing to believe something to be true but something else entirely to find out that it actually was.

"When Dudley came along we were so happy, so proud. He was a perfect little boy and even then we knew that we would spoil him rotten and bring him up never wanting for anything." His Aunt graciously ignored the snort that came from Harry's direction and instead continued speaking, her confidence growing with each sentence. She knew what she was going to say was going to be hard for both of them, but at the same time she realise that it had been left unsaid for too long. "When your mother was young she looked up to me. I was her big sister, her 'Tuney'. Then she met that boy!" Petunia Dursley's face screwed up in disgust and Harry knew he had to speak up for his parents.

"My father was a great man!" He shouted.

"Yes I am sure he may very well have been but it is not him that I was referring too. Your mother didn't meet your father until she started at that blasted school for freaks." Harry bit his lip hard, trying to reign in his temper. "No I am referring to the boy that first told your mother what she was." Petunia rose from the bed and started pacing the floor of his bedroom, her posture straight and her tone sharp. "Severus Snape!" She didn't hear her nephew's gasp as she mentioned the name and instead continued, almost without pause. "That boy! That, that freak! He took my sister away from me without a moment's pause, not caring what it would do to us. That freak destroyed our relationship and then proceeded to shove it in my face. He was a wizard and Lily was a witch and I was nothing but a lowly, common muggle!" She hissed out the final few words, rage evident but a sadness was obvious in her eyes. Harry listened, riveted as his Aunt's cold shell cracked and her history, her pain, flowed freely.

Petunia stopped pacing and wrapped her arms around herself. "Our parents' were so happy when Lily got her letter. After that, nothing I did was ever good enough or special enough to warrant more than their fleeting attention. A compliment here, a well done and a pat on the shoulder there, but Lily was showered with praise. I could never compete. How does someone normal like me ever compete with someone like your mother. She came home from school each summer and regaled mum and dad with stories of turning hedgehogs into pincushions and making light shine from nothing. I would come home and have scored high on a spelling test, there was just never anything that I could do to get our parents attention back. From the day she went to that school, I was never good enough."

Harry thought that he could finally understand some of his Aunt's coldness towards him. He was the ultimate reminder that she was never 'good enough' in her parent's eyes. He listened carefully as she continued.

"As soon as I could I left home and took-part in a typing course and then managed to get a clerical job where I met Vernon. He was so ordinary which was just what I wanted, what I needed. Your Uncle has always had a temper. When I first introduced him to your mum and dad he went ballistic and made us leave after your father started talking about money. Your Uncle Vernon thought that your dad was poor as he kept going on about this new 'racing broom' that he had recently purchased and when he found out that they were actually rather well off, well, pride has always been important to my husband." Harry nodded in understanding. "When Vernon proposed I forbade Lily from being my bridesmaid. Looking back, it was a silly thing to do but I was still struggling to be my own person and I was afraid that she would overshadow me on my wedding day. Like all brides, I wanted to be the one everyone fawned over and complimented. Lily was always so beautiful."

As she spoke of her sister Petunia began to cry. Tears ran down her face unabashedly but she did not wipe them away. Something told Harry that when she mentioned his mum being beautiful she was not only talking of her looks. Harry felt his stomach roll as he realised what his Aunt had had to live with most of her life. Harry knew what it was like to not feel good enough and how it can eat you up inside. He also understood, on some level, her desire to protect Dudley from feeling the way she had. Unfortunately, Petunia had gone too far in the other direction and had spoilt her son so much that for a long time Dudley could do no wrong. If it hadn't been for his run-in with the dementors' the previous year Harry didn't think that there would be any hope for his cousin.

"I didn't really see your mother after that. I didn't go to her wedding; I didn't want to know whether hers was better than mine. I wanted to remember my parent's response to my special day and I knew that I couldn't handle the looks on their faces as Lily would have walked down the aisle. It was foolish and I regretted it the moment I sent back the refusal. I didn't hear from Lily again until she sent me a letter when you were born, she was so proud. I didn't even reply. Then we found you on our doorstep on the 1st of November 1981 and we had to take you in. Neither Vernon or myself wanted you to taint Dudley with your freakishness but that bastard Dumbledore left a letter with you making sure we realised that there wasn't really a choice in the matter." Petunia resumed her pacing once more, tension obvious in her posture. "Bloody Dumbledore! I have never known such a manipulative old man than Albus bloody Dumbledore."

Harry was confused. One minute his Aunt was talking about his mum and Snape and the next thing he knew the headmaster was being brought into it.

"Why is Dumbledore manipulative?" Asked Harry as his Aunt continued to fume silently by the window.

"That man, that…BASTARD forced us to take you in. As I said, we didn't want your m…m…magic to affect our little Dudder's and yet when we tried to give you back the 'great man' himself came and threatened us with death!"

Harry gulped, an automatic reaction to hearing that a man he had once trusted, perhaps even considered a surrogate grandfather, had threatened to kill his only living relatives. "He was going to kill you?"

"Huh? Oh, no not him! He would never dirty his hands with something so macabre. No he told us that there was a special protection over us as long as you lived here. Some blood warble or something. He said that if we refused to have you live here that the same people that killed your mother, my sister, would kill us too. We had to take you after that, I am sure that he was basically telling us that if we didn't have you live with us that somehow our address would suddenly be known to those terrorists or whoever they were. That man never truly seemed anything but kindly until that moment. After that day I get the shivers whenever I even think about him. Vernon told me I was being silly, especially after the first payment arrived but I still wasn't ever comfortable being around you. What had a one year old done that was so bad that people threatened to kill us over you."

Sitting on the bed, Harry was getting more confused as this conversation continued. To be honest, this was the longest conversation that he had ever actually had with his Aunt and certainly the most honest. He wasn't sure whether his Aunt Petunia had actually intended to tell him all of this or just check that he was still alive and not going anywhere. "Wait a second…what do you mean the 'first payment'?"

His Aunt looked caught off guard for a second and looked like she was genuinely surprised. "The payments we got once a month to look after you. That's what last night was about! The money was missing!" Petunia crossed the room and sat opposite Harry on the wooden desk chair. "Each month since you came to us we have had an envelope come to us with £500 in cash. It always came via normal post, none of that 'owl' nonsense. There was always a note with it that said 'Don't forget – A.D' and I don't understand how he thought we could with you floating things around the house at all times of the day. That's why we put you in the cupboard, less things for you to float around. You used to steal Dudley's toys from him and his food too! We couldn't have that so Vernon decided that the only way to rid you of this would be to treat it as any other bad behaviour. At first you would be put in the corner, but that didn't do anything to curb your freakishness, so next we tried smacks. That had somewhat of an effect so we continued with it. We thought we had finally succeeded before that bloody letter came. We kept up the punishments just in case, we didn't want you to start doing it again."

Harry was not sure how they could call a wallop with a belt a 'smack' but he wasn't going to question that. He was more angry that they had been given money for his upbringing and yet he wore his cousin's oversized hand-me-downs and barely got anything to eat. Harry voiced his thoughts and his Aunt snorted in response.

"Please! Do you expect us to spend good money on you? You had a roof over your head, we sent you to school, you had food in your belly and we taught you the meaning of hard work!"

Hard work was certainly right! Harry had been doing the majority share of the chores and renovations since he could walk. Whether it was cooking dinner, cleaning the bath, ironing the clothes or painting the shed, Harry had been made to do it or else starve. Technically his Aunt was right, but by normal, moral standards, he had been neglected and abused. Harry had often argued with Dumbledore about being sent back to the Dursely's each summer. No matter what he said about his life, Dumbledore would just say that Harry had 'misunderstood' or that it was 'understandable to be unhappy when we don't have everything we want' but he had never truly listened to what Harry had said. He had always believed that Dumbledore thought he was exaggerating but maybe, with what his Aunt told him, maybe he already knew and just didn't care. Trying to push away those negative thoughts Harry asked his Aunt an important question. "What do you mean the money was missing? Where did it go?"

"Only your Uncle Vernon and myself had access to the safe we kept the money in. I wanted to put it in the bank but your uncle wouldn't even think about it. He didn't want any questions about where the money was coming from which is valid, don't get me wrong, but all it takes is one mistake and all the money is gone. You know the safe in our wardrobe?"

Harry thought hard but couldn't think what his Aunt meant.

"Just under your uncles trouser's and next to his wellies." Supplied his Aunt.

"Ohhh! Yes I remember, the black one with all the buttons?"

"We use Dudley's birthday as the combination. I tried to tell him that we should pick random numbers but he said that Dudley's birthday was perfect because it was so obvious no one would think of it. Honestly he can be very thick at times."

Harry resisted rolling his eyes before he even felt the disapproving glare of his Aunt.

"Well somehow all the money is gone. I tried to tell him that you wouldn't even know that there was money in there and that you would never be stupid enough but he thought I had been 'bewitched' by you or some such rot. It didn't help that Marge was constantly pushing your uncle's buttons. Hmm, come to think of it she was in our room just before we left for our weekend at the coast." Harry could practically see the cogs going round in his Aunt's head. "She said we had left the window open but I am sure I shut them all before I closed up. No she wouldn't do such a thing, but…"

Harry hated to be the bearer of bad news but felt that he had no choice. "Your wardrobe was open when I went in to polish; I just figured you didn't close it after packing." He finished with a shrug that led to another coughing fit. The pain was incredible but another gulp of water helped ease the soreness in his throat and by doing so, the pressure on his ribs.

"But how would she know? I mean Vernon wouldn't be so stupid as to…?" Petunia wrinkled up her brow. "That silly fool did always like to brag. I can't even report the money as stolen because we 'technically' never received it. I mean, there's no reports, no bank statements, nothing. We were going to buy house in Spain for our retirement with that money." Petunia whined.

Although he was finding it increasingly difficult Harry ignored his Aunt's pain at losing such a hefty amount of money. They had looked after him for almost 10 years and had been getting £6000 a year for his care. The fact that almost none of it had ever been spent on him was a sore point for Harry who would have loved a few clothes that fitted him and 3 good meals a day. The chores he could handle and up until last night he had always accepted his uncles form of punishment without question but now that his uncle had resorted to utter violence, the thought of staying here for another two years was terrifying. Harry was broken out of his musing by the sound of the telephone. He sat still, staring at his Aunt who seemed to still be bemoaning the loss of the money more than the broken mess that was her nephew.

"MUM!" Dudley shouted up the stairs making Harry wince. "DADS ON THE PHONE!"

"COMING DUDDER'S" shouted Petunia in response before making her way out the door.

Harry sat there in silence for a few minutes trying to take everything in. He had never found his Aunt to be dishonest as such but she had a way of skirting the truth to her advantage. He was slightly confused by the past conversation however, as she had seemed incredibly agitated and seemed to vent rather than talk. If that was the case Harry was not sure what to believe. Why would she say that Dumbledore had threatened them? Was it a mistake in communications or was the headmaster aware that he had frightened the Dursley's so? Also, where was the headmaster getting £500 a month to give to his Aunt and Uncle. Harry knew from the previous year and his ensuing trial for underage magic that the headmaster held a lot of titles. He didn't know how much the man got paid for those jobs, perhaps he was wealthy and thought that this was a way to ensure that Harry grew up well looked after. If that was the case he had failed miserably. Also, had Marge really stolen the money? Harry had never really liked her but he didn't want to believe that she could con her own brother.

"Hey."

Harry couldn't help but flinch at the sound of his cousin's voice. For a second he had thought his Uncle was back and was going to hurt him again, so lost in his own little bubble was he.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump." Dudley replied, scuffing his shoes on the carpet. The move was so childlike that Harry couldn't help the giggle that escaped him.

"S'allright Dud. I was just…thinking." Harry said, unconsciously protecting his ribs with his arms.

"'Bout?" came the honestly curious reply as his cousin entered the bedroom more fully.

With a sigh Harry motioned for his cousin to sit down. "I don't want to go into details, to be honest I haven't taken all of it in yet and I only have your mum's version so far, I don't want to just assume that everyone else is bad just because she says so. No offence." Harry added as an afterthought.

"None taken." Dudley replied with a shrug. "I guess we've never really given you a reason to believe us so far. I'd be worried that Dad did more damage than we originally thought if you had suddenly believed everything we said." Even though it was obviously an attempt at humour, Dudley could see that his joke fell flat and apologised immediately. "You don't have to worry about Dad anymore. At least, not for a while."

That got Harry's attention. "What do you mean?"

His cousin ran his hand nervously through the hair at the back of his neck, his shoulders slumped and his voice reaffirmed his sadness. "When Dad started shouting last night I…I knew it was going to be different. There was this…feeling…I can't explain it but I was terrified of what he would do. Not just to you, to me, to any of us. I left, I went out for a walk. I don't think I was gone more than twenty minutes. I kept thinking I would come back to find Mum bruised and bloody and you…dead!" The last word was whispered and Harry felt a warmth in his chest at his cousins slight admittance that he worried about him. Caring was caring, no matter how messed up. "When I got home, you were lying on the kitchen floor and mum was stood over you shouting at dad and Aunt Marge. Screaming at them to get out and never come back. Next thing I know they're driving off with a suitcase each in the car. Guess dad's at Aunt Marge's house but I'm not sure." Dudley didn't seem saddened by this, in fact, Harry could almost sense relief.

Without either of their notice, Petunia Dursley had re-entered the bedroom having just gotten off the phone with her husband.

"Your father won't be back before the end of summer and not then either unless he works on his temper." His Aunt spoke to Dudley, not him, and her tone was sharp. Harry was sure whatever had been said during that telephone conversation had not been good but he didn't want to pry. "He doesn't believe that his sister would steal from us. He still thinks you stole the money."

Stunned, Harry gaped at his Aunt. His Uncle could be an idiot sometimes, that was for sure. "Do you think I stole the money?" he asked slowly.

"No. I think, as much as I hate to consider it, that Marge likely took it. She recently admitted to having 'debts' but I am still shocked that she would steal from her own family."

Harry bit his tongue from stating the obvious. That they had quite happily stolen from him the money that Dumbledore had given to make sure Harry had all that he required. It was probably a good thing he held his tongue as looking at his Aunt now she seemed to have aged all of a sudden. Her hair seemed to have lost some of its sheen and bounce, her skin seemed pale and taught on her bones. Even Dudley looked like he had seen better days.

"I'm really sorry Aunt Petunia." He didn't know why he felt the need to apologise, or what he was actually apologising for but it seemed to be what his Aunt had needed to hear.

"Never mind, everything will work itself out, right Dudder's?"

Dudley nodded, his chins wobbling in determination.

"Why don't you lie down hmm?" She said to Harry. "I'll go make some soup." Harry gawked after his Aunt's retreating form and frowned as he heard his cousin chuckle from beside him.

Grumbling at himself, Harry struggled but eventually lay himself down in a position that was almost pain free.

"I'll get you some pain-killers." Dudley said as he stood abruptly from the bed. Harry nodded his thanks as he masked his pain.

This was going to be a strange summer and he hadn't even been back for two weeks yet. He didn't know what was going to happen but decided he could only wait and see and make the best of it. As he waited for his tablet's to arrive his brain mulled over his conversations with his Aunt and Dudley and even though he had more questions than answers he knew that he had to tread carefully. He would get his chance, he hoped, at the will reading but some part of Harry was telling him that he really didn't want answers to some of his questions.

Dudley waddled back into the room and handed Harry 2 small capsules and a glass of fresh water. Swilling the tablet's down Harry thanked his cousin and lay his head back against the pillow. With a sigh Harry closed his some-what good eye and tried to calm his thoughts. He barely heard Dudley as he left the room and closed the door. Before long the pain-killers started to take effect and Harry sighed in relief. When his Aunt Petunia came back with his soup she found Harry asleep and took the soup away again but not before taking a long look at her peaceful nephew.

All that she kept thinking was that it could have been her Dudley laying their bruised and battered. Vernon had gone too far and she would make sure her baby was safe. If Vernon wasn't willing to change, she would make sure he never stepped foot in her house again.

Authors Note

I struggled with this chapter as I wanted to make the conversation as near to what I believe the characters to be. I tried to make it so that Petunia comes across as caring, but not deliberately for Harry, rather for Dudley with Harry just being there. It was hard to write as there was so much I wanted to include but I didn't want to overload the chapter and make it unreadable. The main thing I wanted to do was make sure that people realised that:

- Yes Harry got beaten badly by his uncle.

- No he has never been beaten like this before.

The next chapter will be more follow-up. I can't have Harry discover everything at once. I need these things to be discovered slowly and come to a head. Lets just say that when I get round to writing the will reading that things will start to get even more interesting!

Please don't forget to review if you like it, even if you don't but please add constructive critisism if that is the case so that I can improve for the next chapters! x