The summer did not begin the way Harry had expected; he thought the looming idea of a convicted murderer coming to his rescue at any word of mistreatment would frighten the Dursley's, but instead it only seemed to anger them. At the beginning, the Dursley's locked all of Harry's school supplies in their own closet (to Harry's immense displeasure, at least he knew they weren't being burned or destroyed in the cupboard), as well as ensured all the windows were shut to prevent Hedwig from sending or bringing back letters. Harry was at first indignant, hating the idea of being cut off from his friends and his godfather whom he longed to know more about. When the Dursley's began to use violence, however, Harry kept his mouth shut. They had always been cruel towards him and bordered on abusive, but never actually crossed the line that could get them in real trouble. This summer proved to be different.
At first, Harry tried to argue back and threatened them with the mention of Sirius. Vernon would shove him in his cupboard upon hearing his godfather's name and lock him in there for days at a time without any food and barely enough water. Harry would come out of the cupboard after two days weak and humiliated, having wet himself from not being able to go to the bathroom during the amount of time. He wasn't even given a chance to clean up, instead being assigned the chores that were neglected over the days he had been locked up.
He continued to try and resist over the first week, but when Vernon punched him into a wall and kicked him hard in the throat, Harry was helpless and shocked, knowing he'd have to do the chores or he would receive worse. Every night after his chores, he was given a small helping of bread, then thrown into the cupboard again. After the fifth night of this, he counted the padlocks as they clicked into place, then heard the deranged laugh of his uncle.
"Where's your godfather now? Decided he didn't want a freak like you, did he? And why would he? You're good for nothing anyway, can't even do the simple tasks we assign you. You're much better off here, where we feed you. You should be grateful."
At first, Harry tried to ignore the insults that spewed out of his uncle, but after two weeks of not hearing anything from Sirius, Harry began to worry. Maybe his uncle's words did hold some truth in them? Why else would Sirius have not tried to write? Deep down, Harry knew that even if Sirius had tried, the Dursley's could very easily prevent Harry from the contact with his godfather, but even that idea was repressed as the weeks progressed and the beatings got worse.
By the week of his birthday, Harry found himself covered in bruises and cuts, with possibly a few broken fingers and ribs. He wanted Sirius to come more than anything now and save him; things had never gotten this bad before. He was looking up at the roof of his cupboard now, tears falling from his eyes, when he heard his uncle scream for him.
"BOY-" Vernon yelled, practically ripping the cupboard door off its hinges, and yanking Harry out.
"W-what is it?" Harry asked, bracing himself for the blow that was sure to come. Seconds later, Harry was on the ground, an erupting pain in his head from where he had hit the stair railings.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" Vernon spit, shoving an official looking letter in front of Harry's face.
As Harry read through it, his heart gave a jolt. It was custody papers from the Ministry of Magic, stating that Harry was to move in with Sirius on his birthday. All the doubt Harry had been worried with left him as excitement grew at the prospect of finally leaving his relatives. Dumbledore had done it again, and Harry couldn't help but smile.
Clearly, that was not the answer his uncle was looking for - before Harry could react, he was being lifted by the scruff of the neck and braced against the wall, thick hands strapping around his throat and not letting go. He gasped and clawed, trying to let air enter his windpipe, to no avail.
"I want you to listen to me closely boy - you're our servant. That's all you're good for, you hear? You're not leaving this place. Do you see how this feels? I could squeeze harder you know." Vernon demonstrated this idea by tightening his grip on the boy's windpipe before finally letting him fall into a choking heap on the floor. "When they get here on Wednesday, you're to tell them that you don't want to live with this convict and you are to mean it. Tell them that we are great guardians and you want to stay here. If you try any funny business, I'll strangle you so quickly you won't even get to say goodbye to your precious godfather, do you hear me?"
Harry yelped as Vernon pulled him back up by his hair, the aches and pains of bruises and broken bones erupting across his body. "I SAID DO YOU HEAR ME."
"Y-yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry whispered, horror-struck.
"GOOD. NOW GET IN THERE." Vernon yelled, throwing Harry back in the cupboard, no doubt until the Ministry arrived on Wednesday.
"Sirius, stop worrying. Only one more day and Harry will be living here," Remus said, sitting down at the table beside his only remaining school friend.
Since being given his freedom, Sirius had completely devoted his life to preparing for Harry's arrival. Remus and him had bought a cottage out in the country near the Burrow, knowing that Harry's best mate lived there and wanting them to be close to each other. He also had focused on fixing his appearance, wanting to get rid of every trace of Azkaban to be able to focus more on his godson. He desperately wanted Harry to like him and like his new home, but was now nervous; Harry hadn't replied to a single letter all month.
"I know, I'm just scared Moony. What if he changed his mind? I haven't heard from him at all." Sirius looked into the caring eyes of his best mate, desperately needing reassurance on the matter.
"I highly doubt he has," Remus said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "Albus says his relatives can be very neglecting - not enough to pull him away from their blood protection, but enough to make Harry fairly miserable while he stays there."
Sirius's eyes darkened with anger, but he nodded. Now, he was just anxious to get his godson away from there so he could show him love and kindness - things the boy had apparently missed out on.
Harry woke up on the morning of Wednesday, July thirty-first, feeling very miserable. He rubbed the back of his head, noting that it was still throbbing from the impact two evenings ago when Vernon had received the ministry letter.
He knew it would be hopeless. Sirius would arrive, ready to take him away to a happier place, and Harry had to reject him; otherwise, the consequences could be severe, now that he knew what his uncle was capable of.
He heard his uncle hammering down the stairs, grumbling to himself about freaks and why he wished they could leave his perfectly normal family alone. He heard him unlock the cupboard and a bright light streamed in, blinding Harry.
"Get out boy," Vernon snarled, yanking Harry up by his thick black hair. "Petunia, we need to do something about these bruises!" He yelled to his wife, who was doting on Harry's cousin.
She walked over and yanked Harry's jaw for a closer look. "Nothing some foundation won't fix. Hurry up, let's go upstairs and cover the bruises on your neck before your lot gets here."
The morning went by in a haze for Harry. Despite his many injuries, all he could think about was the heartbreak he was going to feel when he had to turn away one of the first people who had loved him.
Before he knew it, it was eleven in the morning and a loud knock resonated throughout the house. Harry bolted upright, hoping his panic when he opened the door would alert his godfather that something was wrong. But as he went to run for the door, he felt his uncle's beefy hands yank him back into a seat at the kitchen table. "Don't move," his uncle snarled, walking towards the front door.
Harry wanted to cry. He was stuck, there was no getting around it. Sirius would hate him after today, he'd never know his godfather's love or affection. He'd bring his godfather more pain after leaving Azkaban, and tears sprang to his eyes as he thought about what would happen after the Ministry left.
"Harry!" He heard Sirius yell excitedly, but knew better to look toward the door. Vernon would kill him if he didn't put on a good show.
"H-Harry?" Sirius questioned, noticing immediately something was wrong when he saw the stiff figure of his godson, staring at the ground, and his uncle looming over him.
Harry gulped. Here it was, the moment of truth. "I-I don't w-want to live with you, S-Sirius." His voice cracked and he felt panicked. He knew his godfather would see right through it, and he secretly wanted him to. He snuck a quick glance in front of him and saw two confused wizards from the ministry, Professor Lupin, and Dumbledore as well. But what really threw him off guard was that Sirius didn't look hurt at all - he looked determined.
"What did you say, Harry?" Sirius said gently, walking over towards him.
"I-I don't w-want to leave my r-relatives." Harry mumbled, pleading inwardly for Sirius to hear the pain in his voice. It worked, because he felt Sirius put his hands on his shoulders and kneel down in front of him.
"Harry," he said gently, willing him to look into his eyes. "I want you to say that to me with a straight face. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want to live with me."
Harry could feel his uncle's grip tighten on the back of his chair and knew he was going to die. He couldn't lie to Sirius's face like that - he might could have done it if it were Snape, but Sirius was different. He could practically feel the love radiating off Sirius as he looked right at him, not appearing to be hurt at all by Harry's previous responses.
"I-I can't." Harry mumbled, looking back down. He could practically feel his uncle ready to pounce but at that moment he didn't care. He knew it was hopeless anyway. "If I looked you in the eyes and said that," Harry started, a little louder than before, "then it would be a lie. And I can't lie to you."
"OH YOU'VE GOT IT COMING BOY." Harry immediately felt himself being thrown out of the chair and up against the kitchen counter, his vision blurring as he lost air from his uncle's grip on his throat. He heard audible gasps and yelling before his vision went and he was out cold.
Sirius sat down in the hospital wing and put his face in his hands. He had no idea it had been that bad - sure, he had some negative feelings about sending Harry back when he seemed so eager to move in with him, but he thought Dumbledore knew best. Even Dumbledore didn't know this time though, and the mistake really did some damage.
Sirius looked at the broken heap of his godson lying on the hospital bed in front of him, anger swelling up inside him. He tried to remember back to what happened, knowing that he and the other grown wizards in the room were quick to turn Vernon into a cockroach before he could do permanent damage to his godson. After that, things went hazy. He remembered wrapping Harry's unconscious body in his arms and sobbing, terrified that he'd lost one of the things he held most dear. He remembered Dumbledore placing a hand on his shoulder and telling him that they had to move Harry quick, that there might be a chance to save him if they could get him to the safety of Hogwarts. And of course Madam Pomfrey immediately got to work, healing just about every ailment Harry had endured; despite all this, Sirius felt immensely unsettled. He'd done this to Harry, he abandoned him when he was a baby over revenge, then left him to be cared for by those horrid relatives. He would make it up to him though, if Harry would just open his eyes.
"The boy is weak, my faithful servant. The time will come soon for me to attack. I need his blood, no others will do. I trust you have a plan for when he returns to school?"
"Yes, of course master." A dark-haired man replied, bending down to kiss his robes.
Harry felt a searing pain in his scar and panicked, wanting to jerk up and scream but also feeling his immensely sore bones and weakness fighting against him. He settled for opening his eyes, letting out a low moan that caused the figure beside him to bolt upright.
"Harry! Thank goodness," Sirius said, gently grabbing for Harry's hand.
"S-Sirius? I'm alive?" Harry breathed, looking around the hospital wing.
"Of course you are puppy, did you think I'd let that bastard hurt you and get away with it?" Sirius said gently, tears springing to his eyes.
Harry flushed red. At the time, he hadn't thought about the odds against his uncle trying to kill him, all he could consider was the threat against his life. Of course Uncle Vernon couldn't have gotten away with it - there were five armed wizards standing directly in front of him. But when he had strangled him two nights prior, it seemed so real. The murderous look his uncle had given him while he fought to stay conscious was enough to make Harry believe he would willingly commit murder, no matter who was around.
"Harry?" Harry tilted his head to look into his godfather's kind eyes and at that moment, he burst into tears. "Oh, come here." Sirius mumbled, climbing onto the bed and pulling the crying boy into his arms. He whispered soothing words into Harry's dark hair, hugging him close and rocking back and forth. They would need to have a serious talk later, but for now, Harry needed him for comfort and Sirius was more than willing to oblige.
