A/N: PLEASE R/R!!!!!!!! I love reviews! I tried a different angle then any other stories that i've done. This takes place during Harry's 5th year and 4th year SUMMER. It takes place after the GOF. If nobody likes this, then tell me why BUT DON'T BE TOO MEAN CAUSE I DON'T LIKE THAT. If you like it review. If nobody reviews though, I don't think I'll continue. This is more of a test. So, read! AND REMEMBER! HARRY POTTER AND ALL THE CHARACTERS ARE NOT MINE UNLESS I SAY THEY ARE. It's PG-13 just because I wasn't sure and didn't want to underrate it. ok! Read! Thanks!
The day was gray, just like all the other days. It had been like this ever since Harry had arrived home. He never cried, but sank deeper into sadness His uncle was more terrible then before. He, Harry, was blamed for the money loss that the family was facing. Harry tried ignoring it at first, but his uncle made sure that he would remember. Forever.
Hedwig knew something was wrong. Harry, however had made her go to Ron's. He didn't trust his uncle and he knew Hedwig would never get enough to eat here. At least Harry never did and he didn't expect any different for his owl.
After days like these, Harry would lay on his bed for hours wondering why. Why him. Why did he have to live this. Why can't he stay at Hogwarts. Why couldn't he live in a normal house. Why was he cursed with this life?
He had not responded to any of his friends letters. He didn't want them worrying. Sirius hadn't written yet. Harry figured it was probably for the better. Sirius was having enough problems with Voldermont.
Voldermont. Another problem with Harry. Voldermont had ruined his life. Harry was still angry after last year. But he blamed himself. He couldn't even blame Voldermont as much as himself. He had stayed up countless nights recalling the events and tearing himself apart. Going through what happened. Wishing he had been killed. Wondering what ifs.
He knew the what ifs did nothing, but he couldn't stop. It was like an epidemic in his body that he couldn't stop and he wasn't sure if he wanted it to. It was one of the main reasons Harry was in as much sadness as he was.
"BOY GET YOUR LAZY BUTT DOWN HERE AND CLEAN THE FLOOR!" his uncle called from downstairs. Harry trudged his skinny body down the stairs. He did as his uncle told him but it didn't stop his uncle from kicking him occasionally and spiting on him. Harry ignored most of it. Mostly trying to stay awake. It was 12:30 a.m. and he hadn't slept in two days.
Harry had lost a lot of weight since his fourth year, and since he was already underweight, it was really terrible. Harry grew but not much. His green eyes had changed too. They were now dark and dull, nothing really shone anymore. He had a scar that lay across his cheek that reminded him of last month when his uncle had cracked a glass over his head and scraped a part across his cheek. Harry hadn't cried.
Harry watched as his uncle left. Harry continued working, making sure he didn't leave any excuse for his uncle to hurt him anymore then he already did. When he finally finished, it was 2 in the morning and Uncle Vernon was snoring loudly.
Even his cousin and aunt, Dudley and Aunt Petunia, were scared of the man. They had left two weeks ago during the night. He had hit Dudley some, Petunia more, and Harry was a punching bag. The days were slowly coming to an end. Only another month until he went back. If his uncle let him. If he survived.
Harry's head drooped onto his pillow and he dreamt. He dreamt the same kind of dreams he had been having all summer. Nightmares. He couldn't escape and it killed him.
The nightmares were about Voldermont. More plans to kill Harry. Sometimes Harry would sit up and wonder why he just didn't get Harry, kill him, and be over with it. It would make both their lives easier. But no. Voldermont had to do to differently. Torture Harry more.
Two nights later, Harry got up and got dressed. As soon as he walked downstairs, his uncle grabbed him by his shirt.
"You don't belong here boy," His uncle said, his face full of anger and breath full of alcohol. Harry turned his head away from the smell but his uncle grabbed his chin and turned him to face him. Then his uncle threw him as hard as he could across the room. The wall connected with Harry and made a loud crunch. Harry had dented the wall slightly.
Uncle Vernon walked forward in a shaky way, due to the alcohol, and pushed the boy back down as he tried to sit up. Harry cradled his broken arm which had broken when he hit, but his uncle grabbed his hair.
"Why don't you fight back boy? Scared? Or are you just weak? I think that's it. You are useless boy! Nobody wants you! Do you hear me? NOBODY WANTS YOU NOT EVEN THAT CRACKPOT FOOL THAT KNEW YOUR PARENTS!" spit flew everywhere as he said this in a slur. Harry, too weak, didn't react, the words hardly entering his mind as his uncle kept coming in and out of view.
"You stay here boy. When I get back don't expect to be here much longer," his uncle kicked him twice in the stomach causing him to wheeze, knowing at least two of his ribs had broken. Then, he left, slamming the door behind him. Harry slowly began to realize what his uncle had meant. Harry knew he was to be dead by tomorrow if his uncle got his way.
Harry tried lifting himself twice before he was able to stand on his legs. They wobbled underneath him but he stood. He slowly made his way up the stairs trying to go as fast as he could. He didn't know it, but he had a trail of blood that trickled behind him.
Harry had had enough. Knowing the only way he could survive was if he used magic, Harry grabbed his wand and cloak which he had gotten by mere luck. Harry didn't even bother with everything else, except his Firebolt which he grabbed to for life. Then a door slammed and Harry's heart began to beat forcefully in his chest. He wasn't going to make it. He was going to die.
"YOU CAN RUN BOY! BUT YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM ME!" Harry heard his uncle yell. Harry heard the loud thumps up the stairs. Harry stood paralyzed in shock at the spot where his uncle slammed open the door. He had his arm raised, gun in hand, pointing straight at Harry.
The day was gray, just like all the other days. It had been like this ever since Harry had arrived home. He never cried, but sank deeper into sadness His uncle was more terrible then before. He, Harry, was blamed for the money loss that the family was facing. Harry tried ignoring it at first, but his uncle made sure that he would remember. Forever.
Hedwig knew something was wrong. Harry, however had made her go to Ron's. He didn't trust his uncle and he knew Hedwig would never get enough to eat here. At least Harry never did and he didn't expect any different for his owl.
After days like these, Harry would lay on his bed for hours wondering why. Why him. Why did he have to live this. Why can't he stay at Hogwarts. Why couldn't he live in a normal house. Why was he cursed with this life?
He had not responded to any of his friends letters. He didn't want them worrying. Sirius hadn't written yet. Harry figured it was probably for the better. Sirius was having enough problems with Voldermont.
Voldermont. Another problem with Harry. Voldermont had ruined his life. Harry was still angry after last year. But he blamed himself. He couldn't even blame Voldermont as much as himself. He had stayed up countless nights recalling the events and tearing himself apart. Going through what happened. Wishing he had been killed. Wondering what ifs.
He knew the what ifs did nothing, but he couldn't stop. It was like an epidemic in his body that he couldn't stop and he wasn't sure if he wanted it to. It was one of the main reasons Harry was in as much sadness as he was.
"BOY GET YOUR LAZY BUTT DOWN HERE AND CLEAN THE FLOOR!" his uncle called from downstairs. Harry trudged his skinny body down the stairs. He did as his uncle told him but it didn't stop his uncle from kicking him occasionally and spiting on him. Harry ignored most of it. Mostly trying to stay awake. It was 12:30 a.m. and he hadn't slept in two days.
Harry had lost a lot of weight since his fourth year, and since he was already underweight, it was really terrible. Harry grew but not much. His green eyes had changed too. They were now dark and dull, nothing really shone anymore. He had a scar that lay across his cheek that reminded him of last month when his uncle had cracked a glass over his head and scraped a part across his cheek. Harry hadn't cried.
Harry watched as his uncle left. Harry continued working, making sure he didn't leave any excuse for his uncle to hurt him anymore then he already did. When he finally finished, it was 2 in the morning and Uncle Vernon was snoring loudly.
Even his cousin and aunt, Dudley and Aunt Petunia, were scared of the man. They had left two weeks ago during the night. He had hit Dudley some, Petunia more, and Harry was a punching bag. The days were slowly coming to an end. Only another month until he went back. If his uncle let him. If he survived.
Harry's head drooped onto his pillow and he dreamt. He dreamt the same kind of dreams he had been having all summer. Nightmares. He couldn't escape and it killed him.
The nightmares were about Voldermont. More plans to kill Harry. Sometimes Harry would sit up and wonder why he just didn't get Harry, kill him, and be over with it. It would make both their lives easier. But no. Voldermont had to do to differently. Torture Harry more.
Two nights later, Harry got up and got dressed. As soon as he walked downstairs, his uncle grabbed him by his shirt.
"You don't belong here boy," His uncle said, his face full of anger and breath full of alcohol. Harry turned his head away from the smell but his uncle grabbed his chin and turned him to face him. Then his uncle threw him as hard as he could across the room. The wall connected with Harry and made a loud crunch. Harry had dented the wall slightly.
Uncle Vernon walked forward in a shaky way, due to the alcohol, and pushed the boy back down as he tried to sit up. Harry cradled his broken arm which had broken when he hit, but his uncle grabbed his hair.
"Why don't you fight back boy? Scared? Or are you just weak? I think that's it. You are useless boy! Nobody wants you! Do you hear me? NOBODY WANTS YOU NOT EVEN THAT CRACKPOT FOOL THAT KNEW YOUR PARENTS!" spit flew everywhere as he said this in a slur. Harry, too weak, didn't react, the words hardly entering his mind as his uncle kept coming in and out of view.
"You stay here boy. When I get back don't expect to be here much longer," his uncle kicked him twice in the stomach causing him to wheeze, knowing at least two of his ribs had broken. Then, he left, slamming the door behind him. Harry slowly began to realize what his uncle had meant. Harry knew he was to be dead by tomorrow if his uncle got his way.
Harry tried lifting himself twice before he was able to stand on his legs. They wobbled underneath him but he stood. He slowly made his way up the stairs trying to go as fast as he could. He didn't know it, but he had a trail of blood that trickled behind him.
Harry had had enough. Knowing the only way he could survive was if he used magic, Harry grabbed his wand and cloak which he had gotten by mere luck. Harry didn't even bother with everything else, except his Firebolt which he grabbed to for life. Then a door slammed and Harry's heart began to beat forcefully in his chest. He wasn't going to make it. He was going to die.
"YOU CAN RUN BOY! BUT YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM ME!" Harry heard his uncle yell. Harry heard the loud thumps up the stairs. Harry stood paralyzed in shock at the spot where his uncle slammed open the door. He had his arm raised, gun in hand, pointing straight at Harry.