Hi all, just a warning, this is my first HP fic. I hope you don't find it
too horrible.
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Harry Potter, famous as the Boy-who-lived in the wizarding world, was wishing he were the boy that had saved. He was in his room, as he had been for the portion of the summer when he wasn't subjected to chores by his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys. They had been particularly nasty to him this summer, owing to the incident with the "Ton-tongue Toffee" that Fred and George Weasely, two of Harry's wizard friends, had fed Harry's cousin Dudley. Dudley extracted his "revenge" against Harry whenever he was given an opportunity. The pompous boy was constantly interfering with Harry's chores, and Harry's Aunt and Uncle never seemed to notice whatever it was Dudley had done.
Though Harry's aunt and uncle were Muggles, they weren't as blind as they pretended to be.. They saw how subdued he was when he had arrived home for the summer break. Something was eating at his soul, decaying him from the inside out. And they took great pleasure in making life all the more miserable for him.
It was 8 in the morning. Harry had not slept well, his dreams plagued with nightmares of Cedric Diggory's death. The aftereffects of the forbidden Cruciatus curse following even in his sleep. He had performed tried to perform a Silencing Charm to keep his screams from waking up his Aunt and Uncle, but the unshakable rules of the blasted Ministry of Magic had threatened to expel him.again. So Harry duct taped his mouth closed whenever he slept, just in case. The more prominent and horrifying dream was the scene where Voldemort, perhaps the most powerful evil wizard who had ever lived, performed the Death Curse on Cedric before Harry's eyes played over, and over, and over.
"Harry Potter! Get up this instant! It's 8 o'clock in the morning and our breakfast won't cook itself!" a shrill voice sounded from downstairs.
"Coming Aunt Petunia." Harry called down.
He checked himself in the mirror on an impulse. His skin was pale and tight on his face, due to the lack of good food, or any food for that matter, in his so-called diet. His black hair was, as always, completely unmanageable. His green eyes, which usually seemed to shine with life, were glassy and emotionless. He sighed, **This is as good as it gets.** He thought dejectedly, never knowing that he was quite a handsome young man because of the constant mental strain put on him by his blood-relatives. Having Dudley get compliments constantly did not help his self esteem either.
He opened his door, stumbling slightly on the obviously awkward sized hand- me-downs of Dudley's that he was forced to wear. The pants were too large on his waist, and barely got down to mid-shin. The shirts were baggy and tent-like, giving him all the shape of a potato sack. Though his nutrition and mental health was lacking at best, this summer had been kind on his physique. He had grown another 3 inches, giving him a most-welcome height advantage on his pig of a cousin. Convinced that Cedric's death was due to some physical flaw with himself, Harry had trained during the sleepless nights. He had exercised, lifting his heavy furniture silently in the middle of nights, pushing himself to his physical limits, the blood-red eyes of Voldemort and the screams of his friends in his nightmares the only motivation he needed. He had become leaner, stronger, with muscles that showed even through the baggy clothing. As such, Dudley only attempted any physical conflict when Harry's back was turned.
He came down the stairs quietly, experience teaching him to keep quiet lest the noise rile his uncle's famous temper.
"Hurry up boy! I haven't got all day! Honestly, you've been so lazy this summer, just sitting up in your room. How can they put up with you at that freakshow they call a school?"
Harry was silent, gritting his teeth as he prepared breakfast.
His uncle saw the muscles in his jaw clench fiercely, and took that as his sign that it was working, "What's the matter boy? Cat got your freaky little tongue? You must know some other people besides those people who popped through our fireplace?" he kept his tone light, as if he was actually interested.
Harry wasn't fooled, he wasn't giving his uncle any ammunition.
"Well then, if you don't feel like being civil, then perhaps some you'd rather do some yard work. I want you to pull the weeds, then trim the hedge, mow the lawn, clip the bushes, and water your Aunt's flowers. Then you can start on your work indoors."
"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry strained out, desperately fighting the urge to rush up to his room, take his wand, and hex his Uncle into next week. But he needed his uncle in as good a mood as possible when Hermione would come to pick him up for his annual stay at the Burrow, just after his 15th birthday, tomorrow.
Harry went outside, knowing that his uncle made him pull the weeds first instead of just mowing them down and spreading some weed killer just to put Harry through more work. He wouldn't let his Uncle get to him though. He smiled inwardly of seeing Hermione again. She would be full of stories of her various trips over the summer. Harry thought about the way her eyes lit up whenever she talked about some foreign country or another. The way her hair, though bushy and uncontrollable, seemed to suit her rather than take away from her looks as it would on other people.
Harry shook his head, **I just daydreamed about Hermione!** he thought to himself.
He smiled, laughing at himself for such foolish thoughts. She probably spent the summer with Krum, having the time of her life. Harry sighed, wishing that he could have spent the summer with her. But he had focused on another goal, like Cho Chang. The pretty Asian Seeker would probably curse him on sight now.
He sighed, his heart wrenching at the memory of her face when he had asked her to the Yule Ball last year. He cursed himself for being so cowardly. Then a wave of shame hit him. How could he be thinking of dating Cho after he had caused Cedric's death? He lost his thoughts in the work he was doing.
His strong arms and hands got done through the chores relatively easy, surprising even Harry himself. Glad that all the late nights exercising paid off. He went on through the day, trying to get through without incident, **Just one more day**
He went on to wash the outside windows, humming to himself the Gryffindor Quidditch song, trying to keep himself from thinking. A squeal from Dudley inside brought Harry back to reality. **Oh no.** Experience taught him Dudley's shrieks brought Hell in large portions. He heard more yelling from his Uncle, but softer sounds from his aunt subdued it. Harry got REALLY worried when he heard them laughing, and then it got quiet. Harry shrugged and went back to work, glad that he didn't get blamed for whatever it was that had frightened Dudley.
Harry had just finished the cars when a rock hit him in the side of the head, opening up a small cut next to his famous lightning bolt scar. He dropped the rag he was using and took off his glasses, trying to keep the blood from getting in his eye. He already knew the culprit, so he didn't bother looking for who had thrown it.
"Damnit Dudley what in the bloody fuck d'you want now?"
"I'll do whatever I please!" his fat face curled into a sneer, "I was just making sure you was doing your job. You better not slack off. If you don't behave, Daddy won't let you go back to that school of yours. You wouldn't wanna miss out on that whore of yours would you?"
Harry's anger bristled. He reared up to his full height, the blood flowing down the side of his face adding to the affect, "What!?" he shouted.
"I found those freaky pictures in my room. All those pictures of your freaky friends and that stupid bushy-haired slut."
"It's my room! And what did you do to those pictures!" Harry shouted, his voice echoing off the number 6 house's garage door.
"Only because you're freeloading off of Dad!" Dudley said, his voice squeaking a bit as he raised his voice, "If I had my say, you'd be back in your cupboard where you belong! Then I could have my room back."
"What were you doing in my room anyway? Those pictures are personal."
"Well they were cursed anyway. They moved when I looked at them, I don't think Dad was too happy when he found out. She wasn't even good looking, so I did you a favor." Dudley smirked.
Something about that smirk, something that reminded Harry so much of Draco Malfoy that it was scary. Anger burned in Harry's eyes. The fire that had been seen by his teammates before a Quidditch match was now burning holes into Dudley's skull. "What. Did. You. Do!" Harry demanded.
"I burned them of course. Every one. Even those of you in those stupid robes with the broomsticks. Oh, and Mummy also burned the ones of that family too."
Harry seized Dudley up by his shirt collar, strength born of rage and magic lifted Dudley off his feet, "You WHAT!?" Harry roared.
Dudley's face was priceless. He had not seen Harry this angry.ever. He had the same look when Hagrid had given Dudley a tail. Dudley stuttered, before his hefty weight ripped the shirt he was in. His fat frame his the driveway, and Dudley rolled over several times before jumping up and running inside, screeching all the way.
Harry ran indoors, his mind whirling. He rushed inside to see the picture of his parent burning in the fireplace. Their faces filled with horror as it was reduced to smoke and ashes.
Harry's vision blurred as he fell to his knees. His shoulders racked with silent sobs as the only picture of his parents flickered and grew dark. His green eyes sparkled in the firelight, belaying the feelings that broke his already fractured heart. He looked to see his so-called Aunt comforting Dudley, glaring at Harry with undisguised hatred. He seemed to say "Why?"
He felt the impact of his uncle's fist to the back of his head, and he went into a black, dreamless sleep.
```
Harry Potter, famous as the Boy-who-lived in the wizarding world, was wishing he were the boy that had saved. He was in his room, as he had been for the portion of the summer when he wasn't subjected to chores by his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys. They had been particularly nasty to him this summer, owing to the incident with the "Ton-tongue Toffee" that Fred and George Weasely, two of Harry's wizard friends, had fed Harry's cousin Dudley. Dudley extracted his "revenge" against Harry whenever he was given an opportunity. The pompous boy was constantly interfering with Harry's chores, and Harry's Aunt and Uncle never seemed to notice whatever it was Dudley had done.
Though Harry's aunt and uncle were Muggles, they weren't as blind as they pretended to be.. They saw how subdued he was when he had arrived home for the summer break. Something was eating at his soul, decaying him from the inside out. And they took great pleasure in making life all the more miserable for him.
It was 8 in the morning. Harry had not slept well, his dreams plagued with nightmares of Cedric Diggory's death. The aftereffects of the forbidden Cruciatus curse following even in his sleep. He had performed tried to perform a Silencing Charm to keep his screams from waking up his Aunt and Uncle, but the unshakable rules of the blasted Ministry of Magic had threatened to expel him.again. So Harry duct taped his mouth closed whenever he slept, just in case. The more prominent and horrifying dream was the scene where Voldemort, perhaps the most powerful evil wizard who had ever lived, performed the Death Curse on Cedric before Harry's eyes played over, and over, and over.
"Harry Potter! Get up this instant! It's 8 o'clock in the morning and our breakfast won't cook itself!" a shrill voice sounded from downstairs.
"Coming Aunt Petunia." Harry called down.
He checked himself in the mirror on an impulse. His skin was pale and tight on his face, due to the lack of good food, or any food for that matter, in his so-called diet. His black hair was, as always, completely unmanageable. His green eyes, which usually seemed to shine with life, were glassy and emotionless. He sighed, **This is as good as it gets.** He thought dejectedly, never knowing that he was quite a handsome young man because of the constant mental strain put on him by his blood-relatives. Having Dudley get compliments constantly did not help his self esteem either.
He opened his door, stumbling slightly on the obviously awkward sized hand- me-downs of Dudley's that he was forced to wear. The pants were too large on his waist, and barely got down to mid-shin. The shirts were baggy and tent-like, giving him all the shape of a potato sack. Though his nutrition and mental health was lacking at best, this summer had been kind on his physique. He had grown another 3 inches, giving him a most-welcome height advantage on his pig of a cousin. Convinced that Cedric's death was due to some physical flaw with himself, Harry had trained during the sleepless nights. He had exercised, lifting his heavy furniture silently in the middle of nights, pushing himself to his physical limits, the blood-red eyes of Voldemort and the screams of his friends in his nightmares the only motivation he needed. He had become leaner, stronger, with muscles that showed even through the baggy clothing. As such, Dudley only attempted any physical conflict when Harry's back was turned.
He came down the stairs quietly, experience teaching him to keep quiet lest the noise rile his uncle's famous temper.
"Hurry up boy! I haven't got all day! Honestly, you've been so lazy this summer, just sitting up in your room. How can they put up with you at that freakshow they call a school?"
Harry was silent, gritting his teeth as he prepared breakfast.
His uncle saw the muscles in his jaw clench fiercely, and took that as his sign that it was working, "What's the matter boy? Cat got your freaky little tongue? You must know some other people besides those people who popped through our fireplace?" he kept his tone light, as if he was actually interested.
Harry wasn't fooled, he wasn't giving his uncle any ammunition.
"Well then, if you don't feel like being civil, then perhaps some you'd rather do some yard work. I want you to pull the weeds, then trim the hedge, mow the lawn, clip the bushes, and water your Aunt's flowers. Then you can start on your work indoors."
"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry strained out, desperately fighting the urge to rush up to his room, take his wand, and hex his Uncle into next week. But he needed his uncle in as good a mood as possible when Hermione would come to pick him up for his annual stay at the Burrow, just after his 15th birthday, tomorrow.
Harry went outside, knowing that his uncle made him pull the weeds first instead of just mowing them down and spreading some weed killer just to put Harry through more work. He wouldn't let his Uncle get to him though. He smiled inwardly of seeing Hermione again. She would be full of stories of her various trips over the summer. Harry thought about the way her eyes lit up whenever she talked about some foreign country or another. The way her hair, though bushy and uncontrollable, seemed to suit her rather than take away from her looks as it would on other people.
Harry shook his head, **I just daydreamed about Hermione!** he thought to himself.
He smiled, laughing at himself for such foolish thoughts. She probably spent the summer with Krum, having the time of her life. Harry sighed, wishing that he could have spent the summer with her. But he had focused on another goal, like Cho Chang. The pretty Asian Seeker would probably curse him on sight now.
He sighed, his heart wrenching at the memory of her face when he had asked her to the Yule Ball last year. He cursed himself for being so cowardly. Then a wave of shame hit him. How could he be thinking of dating Cho after he had caused Cedric's death? He lost his thoughts in the work he was doing.
His strong arms and hands got done through the chores relatively easy, surprising even Harry himself. Glad that all the late nights exercising paid off. He went on through the day, trying to get through without incident, **Just one more day**
He went on to wash the outside windows, humming to himself the Gryffindor Quidditch song, trying to keep himself from thinking. A squeal from Dudley inside brought Harry back to reality. **Oh no.** Experience taught him Dudley's shrieks brought Hell in large portions. He heard more yelling from his Uncle, but softer sounds from his aunt subdued it. Harry got REALLY worried when he heard them laughing, and then it got quiet. Harry shrugged and went back to work, glad that he didn't get blamed for whatever it was that had frightened Dudley.
Harry had just finished the cars when a rock hit him in the side of the head, opening up a small cut next to his famous lightning bolt scar. He dropped the rag he was using and took off his glasses, trying to keep the blood from getting in his eye. He already knew the culprit, so he didn't bother looking for who had thrown it.
"Damnit Dudley what in the bloody fuck d'you want now?"
"I'll do whatever I please!" his fat face curled into a sneer, "I was just making sure you was doing your job. You better not slack off. If you don't behave, Daddy won't let you go back to that school of yours. You wouldn't wanna miss out on that whore of yours would you?"
Harry's anger bristled. He reared up to his full height, the blood flowing down the side of his face adding to the affect, "What!?" he shouted.
"I found those freaky pictures in my room. All those pictures of your freaky friends and that stupid bushy-haired slut."
"It's my room! And what did you do to those pictures!" Harry shouted, his voice echoing off the number 6 house's garage door.
"Only because you're freeloading off of Dad!" Dudley said, his voice squeaking a bit as he raised his voice, "If I had my say, you'd be back in your cupboard where you belong! Then I could have my room back."
"What were you doing in my room anyway? Those pictures are personal."
"Well they were cursed anyway. They moved when I looked at them, I don't think Dad was too happy when he found out. She wasn't even good looking, so I did you a favor." Dudley smirked.
Something about that smirk, something that reminded Harry so much of Draco Malfoy that it was scary. Anger burned in Harry's eyes. The fire that had been seen by his teammates before a Quidditch match was now burning holes into Dudley's skull. "What. Did. You. Do!" Harry demanded.
"I burned them of course. Every one. Even those of you in those stupid robes with the broomsticks. Oh, and Mummy also burned the ones of that family too."
Harry seized Dudley up by his shirt collar, strength born of rage and magic lifted Dudley off his feet, "You WHAT!?" Harry roared.
Dudley's face was priceless. He had not seen Harry this angry.ever. He had the same look when Hagrid had given Dudley a tail. Dudley stuttered, before his hefty weight ripped the shirt he was in. His fat frame his the driveway, and Dudley rolled over several times before jumping up and running inside, screeching all the way.
Harry ran indoors, his mind whirling. He rushed inside to see the picture of his parent burning in the fireplace. Their faces filled with horror as it was reduced to smoke and ashes.
Harry's vision blurred as he fell to his knees. His shoulders racked with silent sobs as the only picture of his parents flickered and grew dark. His green eyes sparkled in the firelight, belaying the feelings that broke his already fractured heart. He looked to see his so-called Aunt comforting Dudley, glaring at Harry with undisguised hatred. He seemed to say "Why?"
He felt the impact of his uncle's fist to the back of his head, and he went into a black, dreamless sleep.