PLEASE EXCUSE MY POOR GRAMMER. FOR I AM ONLY A LOWLY SOPHOMORE, AND I HAVE NO BETA-READER. SO IF ANYONE WOULD LIKE TO TAKE THAT JOB FOR ME. EMAIL ME! THANKS!!!!
A/N: Thank you to all the wonderful people who reviewed my story! ::grins:: Lady FoxFire, Lei Dumbledore, JR, Gabriella (I just love a good Harry/torture fic too!), Harry and Hermione's Daughter, Sky Brooks, And Black Widow Spider (My lil' Twink!).
Special thanks: Lei Dumbledore, thanks for being so kind as to explain why my computer went haywire. I took your advice and saved it on my computer. It worked great after that! I didn't have any more problems. Without your advice I would probably never saved it the right way … and I would still be working on the chapter now. =)
A/N 2: *Warning* … this story contains some highly emotional subject matter. It talks about child abuse … and maybe even rape later on in the story. (But there will be no talk of rape in this chapter.)
Summary: When Harry returns home, from his first year at Hogwarts, he finds out that not much has changed. Or has it? Can anyone help him through it? Sometimes you can find help from the most unlikely people.
Disclaimer: I own … ::looks around desperately:: … nothing! ::cries:: I own nothing … I'm poor!!! ::hangs head in shame::
I JUST REALIZED THE ITALICS ON CH. ONE DON'T SHOW UP!! PLEASE EXCUSE THIS … I PROMISE TO FIX IT SO THAT YOU'LL UNDERSTAND WHEN HARRY IS THINKING TO HIMSELF FROM NOW ON. =) =) =) =) =)
// ~~~ // are Harry's thoughts.
Dedication:
To Marcus~ this past month has been really stressful and depressing for me. Thanks for all the encouraging words. Your friendship means a lot to me. =)
To Megan~ my cousin. Thank you for going out of your way to make me feel welcome and apart of 'the gang' this past Thanksgiving. I love ya lots!
Forgive and Forget
Chapter 2
Rated PG-13
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~DREAM~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry was walking down one of the corridors that led to the Great Hall in Hogwarts. He was faced once again with the eerie silence that had haunted him the first time. He felt himself shiver, and the hair stand on end at the back of his neck. Goose bumps slowly began to appear. They traveled their way down his arms. Harry involuntarily shuddered. His breathing was becoming louder and he could see his breath as it left his lips. "Jeeze it's cold," he mumbled to himself. The silence was starting to get to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and continued on walking.
// Why is this so familiar? // Harry had the strangest feeling of déjà vu. His mind began racing in attempt to remember. He was still instinctively walking about the large corridors. Then suddenly he stopped. It had just hit him. He remembered. // Hermione // He suddenly felt like he could throw up, and he began to look around suspiciously. As his eyes moved shiftily over the surroundings, Harry's heart began to pound heavily in his chest.
He took a few moments to collect himself before he started walking again. // Why am I here? Will I see Hermione again? God, I think I'm going to puke. // His stomached tightened at his last thought. But he didn't care. His mind was too fixed on the images of his last encounter with Mione. // I hope I don't have to see that again. //
Wandering aimlessly, he tried desperately to fight the urge to gag. A strange smell filtered throughout the halls. It smelled of dirty socks and dragon dung. Being as that wasn't his main concern at the moment, he decided that it was best not to question where it was coming from. He had no clue where he was going, nor did he care. His feet were moving along, dragging him off to wherever they pleased. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice that he was walking in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons. He slowly ascended down the stairs into the depths of the Slytherin quarter of the castle. It seemed as though the air down here was even colder than before, if that were even possible.
Harry had never enjoyed going down here. Maybe that's he hated going to Potions class so much. // No, I take that back. Snape is the reason why I hate going to Potions. The man bloody hates me! // A scowl found itself on the boys face. // But he did try to help you at that Qudditch match last year. // He began to realize how stupid all this was; he was arguing with himself inside his head. "Stop it Harry," he warned himself out loud. // What would everyone think if they knew 'The Great Harry Potter' talked himself? // Harry chuckled silently. // They would probably send you off to some loony house. // At first he laughed at this comment, but then he realized what he had just did. He groaned inwardly, and smacked himself in the head. // Stop it NOW! // He slowly slid his hand off his face and down to his side and brought his eyes up to the scenery around him.
The gray dreary walls where elaborately decorated with green and silver banners. // I never thought I could actually hate the sight of two specific colors together. // Harry didn't feel like walking anymore. He didn't feel like being here anymore. He wished dearly that he could be asleep in his dorm, or hanging out with Ron and Hermione. // Oh God, I wished I hadn't thought about that. // Images began to swarm through his mind again. Hermione, so sweet and innocent, was lying in pool of blood on the floor. It was just too much for him to take. His head was pounding and the lump in his stomach still hadn't gone away. Harry started to feel dizzy. Beginning to sway and nearly falling over, he realized that he needed some sort of support. He stumbled over to the closest wall and laid back against it. The coolness of the rock wall caused him to tremble violently, it was as if, for a few seconds, his body had forgotten it was freezing. "I swear … I'm going to loose my mind before I get out of this place," he said aloud.
Sitting there in the dimly lit castle, he pulled his legs up to his chest, and laid his head on his knees. 'The Boy Who Lived" sat there for the longest time. Just concentrating on breathing, and allowing himself to calm down. Rising up his head slightly, he began to rock himself back and forth. If anyone had seen him at this moment, they would say he looked vulnerable, so childlike. Finally, after a few minutes of occasional whimpering, Harry was actually starting to feel better. He no longer felt lightheaded, and the lump in his stomach had almost nearly gone away.
Then suddenly there came a sound. "Harry …," came the voice. The voice broke through the silence, causing Harry to let out a small squeal. He unwrapped his arms and legs, and stood to his feet. "Harry," it called him again. "Who's there," asked Harry timidly. He turned and looked down one end of the hall. Until then the voice had sounded distant, almost dreamlike. Then out of nowhere, the voice came from behind him. "Well look who we have here." Harry turned around in a flash. Eyes widened, when Harry realized who was behind the voice. It was Snape, his potions professor. The older, dark haired man stood before him, wearing his usual black robes.
"Mr. Potter, who would have thought you be here, of all places. Especially after what you did," Snape said with obvious venom behind his words. Harry just gawked at him. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. // What's wrong with me? // Arching up an eyebrow, Snape stated, "I suggest you leave. This is no place for a murder like you." That comment gave Harry the strength to speak. "What do you mean," he asked cautiously. Snape drew closer to him, making him shudder to closeness of the proximity between them. "You killed them. It's all your fault, Potter. Because of you they are all dead. You were supposed to be their hero. But you couldn't save them. You were too weak. That makes you a killer," spat out Snape with even more hate than before. "Killed who," inquired Harry. Snape replied, "Who? Why all of them, Potter. I knew you were weak. I told them you were, but no one listened to me."
Harry still didn't understand. // I killed them? // Sweat was starting to accumulate on his brow, as his breath began to quicken. The smell had gotten increasingly worse, but at the moment, Harry really didn't care. He looked back up at Snape, who stared at him with a vile expression. A small, wicked smile slowly began to form on the Professor's face. "I suggest you leave now Mr. Potter," he said spitefully. The Boy Who Lived didn't move. He wanted to, though. Wanted to run away, far away from this horrible reality. And it wasn't until Snape's smirk faded and yelled at him again, did Harry Potter pick up his feet and move. "NOW!" Startled by the increase of his tone, Harry ran.
Going as fast as his legs would carry him, Harry sprinted down the halls. He was moving deeper and deeper into the dungeons. But he didn't care. All he wanted was to get away from Snape. And then without warning he tripped, falling face forward on the hard stone floor with a loud crack He had hit his head hard on the floor. Slowly lifting his head up, Harry turned over onto his back. "Oh God, my head!" Gently he touched his throbbing head. Pulling his hand back over in front of his eyes, he saw a bright red substance residing on his fingers. "Blood," he said aloud. He laid his hand back down on his stomach. Lying on the cold floor, he let his mind process over his last conversation. // They're dead. All of them. And it's all my fault. They trusted me. I'm such a failure. // Tears began to form behind his eyes. // My fault. // With this last thought darkness began to fill his already blurred vision. Harry accepted unconsciousness with welcome arms. The darkness took him over fully, and then there was nothing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~DREAM END~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry was hunched over in the Dursley's garden. He wiped some sweat droplets off of his dirt stained cheek, and let out an exasperated sigh. Uncle Vernon had him working the flowerbed again, pulling out weeds. Yanking out another pesky wild plant, Harry began to mumble a muggle song he had heard a couple of years ago.
Bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee
But the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die
It had been his favorite song. Well, actually it was pretty much the only song he knew. So it wouldn't really be his favorite. The Dursley's never aloud him to listen to the radio. Only when he was in the car with them, did Harry get to enjoy music. The song had been really popular during one summer a few years back. And whenever the Dursley's let him ride along with them, it always seemed to end up on the radio. Sadly, Harry only heard it enough to memorize the chorus. He wished he could remember more, but after a couple of months the song's appeal died out and the stations stopped playing it.
Sighing quietly to himself, Harry fell backwards, and rested on the soft grass. His eyes closed slightly and he sucked in a big breath of summer air. Pretty soon Uncle Vernon would be calling him inside to do some more chores. It had only been 3 days since he'd been back, and he was already in a depressing mood.
Another dream last night caused him to have another restless night of sleep. Harry had woken up about 2 in the morning to find his own breathing to be erratic and unnatural. The memories of his dream still haunted him. Snape's greasy figure staring him down, and stating Harry's own worst fear: the fear of failure. Harry let out a loud snort.
// What if the dream comes true? What if I end up failing everybody? There's no way I could live with disappointing Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, the Weasleys, and all the others. I'm not sure if I could take their disappointment. // Harry started to become more and more depressed. // Why me? // He had asked himself this so many times over the past year it was starting to become a habit. // Why do I have to be The Boy Who Lived? Why did my parents have to die? Why couldn't I have just died with them? // "No," he acknowledged out loud. // Don't think about that Harry. People care about you. // His silent contemplation was suddenly disturbed by a sound. "POTTER," boomed a thunderous voice from inside the house. Harry slowly picked himself up off he ground. // Well, maybe no one here cares about me, but I know a few who do elsewhere. And they would never hurt me. They, unlike the Dursleys, actually care about me. // He felt a wave of confidence rush over him. His friends would be writing to him soon. And as he walked towards the house, that thought alone gave him more self-assurance than he ever had.
Unfortunately for Harry, his confidence was short lived. He had barely entered the house when he was roughly grabbed by the collar and thrown to the floor. Trying to move to a sitting position, he scrambled up on his elbows and leaned on them for support. His Uncle stood over him, face blood red, with an expression full of rage. "You worthless piece of crap," screamed Vernon. "What did I do," asked Harry uneasily. " I thought I told you to iron my pants?" "But. I did Uncle Vernon," he answered fearfully. Shoving a pair of kaki colored trousers in the boy's face, Vernon yelled, "Do you call this ironing? I still see wrinkles at the bottom!" Harry's anger flared up. "Well if you actually had a decent iron to iron with … I might have been able to do it properly," Harry stated with sarcasm dripping in his voice. But in the back of his mind, he knew he had made a mistake.
Before he could sputter out a half-hearted apology, his uncle drove one of his fat fists into Harry's face. Still lying on the floor, Harry brought his hand up over his face, and touched it gently. He felt tears start to well up behind his eyes. // NO! // He shouted at himself to not cry. He would not let Vernon see him that weak. It was then; that he realized Vernon had walked away. Harry made no attempt to move. Still in shock from the sudden blow and the overwhelming pain on his cheek, he sat there wordlessly. The bruise from the other day, when his Uncle had first hit him, was still not completely healed. And this new blow to the side of his face just added to the pain of the old one. Blood was dripping down his cheek and down his neck onto his raggedy old t-shirt.
Suddenly Vernon walked back into the entrance hallway. He was carrying something. "You think this thing is cheap, huh? I'll show you how to work it properly."
Harry's eyes widened when he realized what his Uncle was holding and what his intentions were. The Boy Who Lived barely had a chance to react before the iron came colliding with the side of his head. Harry cried out from the pain, and slumped back onto the floor off of his elbows.
He heard Vernon laugh. It was a cruel and vicious laugh. Then a few seconds later, he heard another laugh coming from above him. Lifting his head up slightly he could see that Dudley was standing over him as well. "Good one Father," Dudley said tauntingly. Vernon cleared his throat loudly, "Now boy, we are going to have to leave for a few days. Aunt Marge is sick and we are going down to take care of her. I expect you to finish your normal chores, along with cleaning the bathroom, fixing the freezer door, raking the … " Harry couldn't understand what he was saying. Everything around him sounded so far away and so distant. There was a warm fluid running down his face and neck. // Blood. // His head tilted to one side, and that allowed him to notice the small pool of red liquid that was on the floor around his head. He closed his eyes momentarily, and when he opened them back up he noticed the Dursley's stepping over him to reach the door.
And just before they left, Harry saw Aunt Petunia turn and say something to him. He couldn't understand what it was, but he was sure it was something along the lines of: "Oh and clean this mess up first thing!" And then they were gone. And Harry was left there on the floor bleeding. The pain was almost too much to bear. He knew it wasn't wise to sleep after getting a concussion, but slumber called out to him. Thinking about his friends and Hogwarts, Harry curled himself up in a fetal position and fell asleep. He fell asleep thinking about happier times. About being able to return to school and seeing his friends again.
~~~~~~TBC~~~~~~
A/N: Please review! Please? Please? The more response I get for this story … the sooner I will update. =) Plus if you review … I'll love you FOREVER!!! ::grins::
A/N: Thank you to all the wonderful people who reviewed my story! ::grins:: Lady FoxFire, Lei Dumbledore, JR, Gabriella (I just love a good Harry/torture fic too!), Harry and Hermione's Daughter, Sky Brooks, And Black Widow Spider (My lil' Twink!).
Special thanks: Lei Dumbledore, thanks for being so kind as to explain why my computer went haywire. I took your advice and saved it on my computer. It worked great after that! I didn't have any more problems. Without your advice I would probably never saved it the right way … and I would still be working on the chapter now. =)
A/N 2: *Warning* … this story contains some highly emotional subject matter. It talks about child abuse … and maybe even rape later on in the story. (But there will be no talk of rape in this chapter.)
Summary: When Harry returns home, from his first year at Hogwarts, he finds out that not much has changed. Or has it? Can anyone help him through it? Sometimes you can find help from the most unlikely people.
Disclaimer: I own … ::looks around desperately:: … nothing! ::cries:: I own nothing … I'm poor!!! ::hangs head in shame::
I JUST REALIZED THE ITALICS ON CH. ONE DON'T SHOW UP!! PLEASE EXCUSE THIS … I PROMISE TO FIX IT SO THAT YOU'LL UNDERSTAND WHEN HARRY IS THINKING TO HIMSELF FROM NOW ON. =) =) =) =) =)
// ~~~ // are Harry's thoughts.
Dedication:
To Marcus~ this past month has been really stressful and depressing for me. Thanks for all the encouraging words. Your friendship means a lot to me. =)
To Megan~ my cousin. Thank you for going out of your way to make me feel welcome and apart of 'the gang' this past Thanksgiving. I love ya lots!
Forgive and Forget
Chapter 2
Rated PG-13
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~DREAM~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry was walking down one of the corridors that led to the Great Hall in Hogwarts. He was faced once again with the eerie silence that had haunted him the first time. He felt himself shiver, and the hair stand on end at the back of his neck. Goose bumps slowly began to appear. They traveled their way down his arms. Harry involuntarily shuddered. His breathing was becoming louder and he could see his breath as it left his lips. "Jeeze it's cold," he mumbled to himself. The silence was starting to get to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and continued on walking.
// Why is this so familiar? // Harry had the strangest feeling of déjà vu. His mind began racing in attempt to remember. He was still instinctively walking about the large corridors. Then suddenly he stopped. It had just hit him. He remembered. // Hermione // He suddenly felt like he could throw up, and he began to look around suspiciously. As his eyes moved shiftily over the surroundings, Harry's heart began to pound heavily in his chest.
He took a few moments to collect himself before he started walking again. // Why am I here? Will I see Hermione again? God, I think I'm going to puke. // His stomached tightened at his last thought. But he didn't care. His mind was too fixed on the images of his last encounter with Mione. // I hope I don't have to see that again. //
Wandering aimlessly, he tried desperately to fight the urge to gag. A strange smell filtered throughout the halls. It smelled of dirty socks and dragon dung. Being as that wasn't his main concern at the moment, he decided that it was best not to question where it was coming from. He had no clue where he was going, nor did he care. His feet were moving along, dragging him off to wherever they pleased. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice that he was walking in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons. He slowly ascended down the stairs into the depths of the Slytherin quarter of the castle. It seemed as though the air down here was even colder than before, if that were even possible.
Harry had never enjoyed going down here. Maybe that's he hated going to Potions class so much. // No, I take that back. Snape is the reason why I hate going to Potions. The man bloody hates me! // A scowl found itself on the boys face. // But he did try to help you at that Qudditch match last year. // He began to realize how stupid all this was; he was arguing with himself inside his head. "Stop it Harry," he warned himself out loud. // What would everyone think if they knew 'The Great Harry Potter' talked himself? // Harry chuckled silently. // They would probably send you off to some loony house. // At first he laughed at this comment, but then he realized what he had just did. He groaned inwardly, and smacked himself in the head. // Stop it NOW! // He slowly slid his hand off his face and down to his side and brought his eyes up to the scenery around him.
The gray dreary walls where elaborately decorated with green and silver banners. // I never thought I could actually hate the sight of two specific colors together. // Harry didn't feel like walking anymore. He didn't feel like being here anymore. He wished dearly that he could be asleep in his dorm, or hanging out with Ron and Hermione. // Oh God, I wished I hadn't thought about that. // Images began to swarm through his mind again. Hermione, so sweet and innocent, was lying in pool of blood on the floor. It was just too much for him to take. His head was pounding and the lump in his stomach still hadn't gone away. Harry started to feel dizzy. Beginning to sway and nearly falling over, he realized that he needed some sort of support. He stumbled over to the closest wall and laid back against it. The coolness of the rock wall caused him to tremble violently, it was as if, for a few seconds, his body had forgotten it was freezing. "I swear … I'm going to loose my mind before I get out of this place," he said aloud.
Sitting there in the dimly lit castle, he pulled his legs up to his chest, and laid his head on his knees. 'The Boy Who Lived" sat there for the longest time. Just concentrating on breathing, and allowing himself to calm down. Rising up his head slightly, he began to rock himself back and forth. If anyone had seen him at this moment, they would say he looked vulnerable, so childlike. Finally, after a few minutes of occasional whimpering, Harry was actually starting to feel better. He no longer felt lightheaded, and the lump in his stomach had almost nearly gone away.
Then suddenly there came a sound. "Harry …," came the voice. The voice broke through the silence, causing Harry to let out a small squeal. He unwrapped his arms and legs, and stood to his feet. "Harry," it called him again. "Who's there," asked Harry timidly. He turned and looked down one end of the hall. Until then the voice had sounded distant, almost dreamlike. Then out of nowhere, the voice came from behind him. "Well look who we have here." Harry turned around in a flash. Eyes widened, when Harry realized who was behind the voice. It was Snape, his potions professor. The older, dark haired man stood before him, wearing his usual black robes.
"Mr. Potter, who would have thought you be here, of all places. Especially after what you did," Snape said with obvious venom behind his words. Harry just gawked at him. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. // What's wrong with me? // Arching up an eyebrow, Snape stated, "I suggest you leave. This is no place for a murder like you." That comment gave Harry the strength to speak. "What do you mean," he asked cautiously. Snape drew closer to him, making him shudder to closeness of the proximity between them. "You killed them. It's all your fault, Potter. Because of you they are all dead. You were supposed to be their hero. But you couldn't save them. You were too weak. That makes you a killer," spat out Snape with even more hate than before. "Killed who," inquired Harry. Snape replied, "Who? Why all of them, Potter. I knew you were weak. I told them you were, but no one listened to me."
Harry still didn't understand. // I killed them? // Sweat was starting to accumulate on his brow, as his breath began to quicken. The smell had gotten increasingly worse, but at the moment, Harry really didn't care. He looked back up at Snape, who stared at him with a vile expression. A small, wicked smile slowly began to form on the Professor's face. "I suggest you leave now Mr. Potter," he said spitefully. The Boy Who Lived didn't move. He wanted to, though. Wanted to run away, far away from this horrible reality. And it wasn't until Snape's smirk faded and yelled at him again, did Harry Potter pick up his feet and move. "NOW!" Startled by the increase of his tone, Harry ran.
Going as fast as his legs would carry him, Harry sprinted down the halls. He was moving deeper and deeper into the dungeons. But he didn't care. All he wanted was to get away from Snape. And then without warning he tripped, falling face forward on the hard stone floor with a loud crack He had hit his head hard on the floor. Slowly lifting his head up, Harry turned over onto his back. "Oh God, my head!" Gently he touched his throbbing head. Pulling his hand back over in front of his eyes, he saw a bright red substance residing on his fingers. "Blood," he said aloud. He laid his hand back down on his stomach. Lying on the cold floor, he let his mind process over his last conversation. // They're dead. All of them. And it's all my fault. They trusted me. I'm such a failure. // Tears began to form behind his eyes. // My fault. // With this last thought darkness began to fill his already blurred vision. Harry accepted unconsciousness with welcome arms. The darkness took him over fully, and then there was nothing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~DREAM END~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry was hunched over in the Dursley's garden. He wiped some sweat droplets off of his dirt stained cheek, and let out an exasperated sigh. Uncle Vernon had him working the flowerbed again, pulling out weeds. Yanking out another pesky wild plant, Harry began to mumble a muggle song he had heard a couple of years ago.
Bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my chevy to the levee
But the levee was dry
And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die
It had been his favorite song. Well, actually it was pretty much the only song he knew. So it wouldn't really be his favorite. The Dursley's never aloud him to listen to the radio. Only when he was in the car with them, did Harry get to enjoy music. The song had been really popular during one summer a few years back. And whenever the Dursley's let him ride along with them, it always seemed to end up on the radio. Sadly, Harry only heard it enough to memorize the chorus. He wished he could remember more, but after a couple of months the song's appeal died out and the stations stopped playing it.
Sighing quietly to himself, Harry fell backwards, and rested on the soft grass. His eyes closed slightly and he sucked in a big breath of summer air. Pretty soon Uncle Vernon would be calling him inside to do some more chores. It had only been 3 days since he'd been back, and he was already in a depressing mood.
Another dream last night caused him to have another restless night of sleep. Harry had woken up about 2 in the morning to find his own breathing to be erratic and unnatural. The memories of his dream still haunted him. Snape's greasy figure staring him down, and stating Harry's own worst fear: the fear of failure. Harry let out a loud snort.
// What if the dream comes true? What if I end up failing everybody? There's no way I could live with disappointing Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, the Weasleys, and all the others. I'm not sure if I could take their disappointment. // Harry started to become more and more depressed. // Why me? // He had asked himself this so many times over the past year it was starting to become a habit. // Why do I have to be The Boy Who Lived? Why did my parents have to die? Why couldn't I have just died with them? // "No," he acknowledged out loud. // Don't think about that Harry. People care about you. // His silent contemplation was suddenly disturbed by a sound. "POTTER," boomed a thunderous voice from inside the house. Harry slowly picked himself up off he ground. // Well, maybe no one here cares about me, but I know a few who do elsewhere. And they would never hurt me. They, unlike the Dursleys, actually care about me. // He felt a wave of confidence rush over him. His friends would be writing to him soon. And as he walked towards the house, that thought alone gave him more self-assurance than he ever had.
Unfortunately for Harry, his confidence was short lived. He had barely entered the house when he was roughly grabbed by the collar and thrown to the floor. Trying to move to a sitting position, he scrambled up on his elbows and leaned on them for support. His Uncle stood over him, face blood red, with an expression full of rage. "You worthless piece of crap," screamed Vernon. "What did I do," asked Harry uneasily. " I thought I told you to iron my pants?" "But. I did Uncle Vernon," he answered fearfully. Shoving a pair of kaki colored trousers in the boy's face, Vernon yelled, "Do you call this ironing? I still see wrinkles at the bottom!" Harry's anger flared up. "Well if you actually had a decent iron to iron with … I might have been able to do it properly," Harry stated with sarcasm dripping in his voice. But in the back of his mind, he knew he had made a mistake.
Before he could sputter out a half-hearted apology, his uncle drove one of his fat fists into Harry's face. Still lying on the floor, Harry brought his hand up over his face, and touched it gently. He felt tears start to well up behind his eyes. // NO! // He shouted at himself to not cry. He would not let Vernon see him that weak. It was then; that he realized Vernon had walked away. Harry made no attempt to move. Still in shock from the sudden blow and the overwhelming pain on his cheek, he sat there wordlessly. The bruise from the other day, when his Uncle had first hit him, was still not completely healed. And this new blow to the side of his face just added to the pain of the old one. Blood was dripping down his cheek and down his neck onto his raggedy old t-shirt.
Suddenly Vernon walked back into the entrance hallway. He was carrying something. "You think this thing is cheap, huh? I'll show you how to work it properly."
Harry's eyes widened when he realized what his Uncle was holding and what his intentions were. The Boy Who Lived barely had a chance to react before the iron came colliding with the side of his head. Harry cried out from the pain, and slumped back onto the floor off of his elbows.
He heard Vernon laugh. It was a cruel and vicious laugh. Then a few seconds later, he heard another laugh coming from above him. Lifting his head up slightly he could see that Dudley was standing over him as well. "Good one Father," Dudley said tauntingly. Vernon cleared his throat loudly, "Now boy, we are going to have to leave for a few days. Aunt Marge is sick and we are going down to take care of her. I expect you to finish your normal chores, along with cleaning the bathroom, fixing the freezer door, raking the … " Harry couldn't understand what he was saying. Everything around him sounded so far away and so distant. There was a warm fluid running down his face and neck. // Blood. // His head tilted to one side, and that allowed him to notice the small pool of red liquid that was on the floor around his head. He closed his eyes momentarily, and when he opened them back up he noticed the Dursley's stepping over him to reach the door.
And just before they left, Harry saw Aunt Petunia turn and say something to him. He couldn't understand what it was, but he was sure it was something along the lines of: "Oh and clean this mess up first thing!" And then they were gone. And Harry was left there on the floor bleeding. The pain was almost too much to bear. He knew it wasn't wise to sleep after getting a concussion, but slumber called out to him. Thinking about his friends and Hogwarts, Harry curled himself up in a fetal position and fell asleep. He fell asleep thinking about happier times. About being able to return to school and seeing his friends again.
~~~~~~TBC~~~~~~
A/N: Please review! Please? Please? The more response I get for this story … the sooner I will update. =) Plus if you review … I'll love you FOREVER!!! ::grins::