~*Midsummer's Night*~
Chapter 2: I'm not afraid of you
Author: Chibi Ron Weasley
Rating: R (for violence and language)
Memorandum: I love you people!! Thank you for reviewing me!! Please continue to review so i can post more.
I dont own Harry Potter, damn it, or any of the characters. So whatever I'm doing here just comes out of my sick little mind.
***********************************************************************
~I'm not afraid of you~
The next day Harry was roused in a rather rude fashion, and dragged out of his room. Still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he groggily stood in the kitchen facing his uncle in the clothes he had fallen asleep in the previous day.
"Here," Vernon belched, shoving a hammer and a box of nails into Harry's hands. He blankly stared at Uncle Vernon as if he was supposed to magically know what to do with them.
"Don't just stand here staring, boy, get to work!" he growled at Harry, "You're fixing that hole in the room now, by yourself!"
Harry looked out the window. It had been pouring since five that morning, and obviously it still was, and rather hard at that. "Urm...but it's raining--"
"I don't care!" Uncle Vernon spat back, "The neighbors saw that purple...whatever it was yesterday, and I had to make up an excuse for it! I want that roof fixed NOW, before the whole street knows it came from our house!"
The expression he had on his face told Harry that beginning an argument would be futile, so he mutely turned and walked out the door. Dudley was smirking at him from the top of the stairs, and Harry knew he would only gloat more if he looked upset as he walked out. So he retained his static expression, not even acknowledging Dudley with more than a glance. The door shut behind him, clicking as the lock was turned.
"Gee...isn't this just PEACHY," Harry mumbled. he was already thoroughly soaked even though he had only been outside for a couple seconds, and he was still sore and aching from yesterdays beating.
He grabbed the ladder from under the bushes, propped it against the house, and proceeded to climb to the roof. There was already a neat little pile of shingles and tile-like substance to hastily patch the hole. He guessed it didn't matter how well it was patched, just as long as it looked ok from the outside. It was his room, after all.
He pounded away noisily, accidentally hitting his finger more than once. It was very hard to see with the water and his wet hair running down over his glasses, and he couldn't take them off, because it would be just as hard to see without them. He sighed in frustration. Hermione had fixed this problem for him during one rainy quidditch match with one of her charms, but Harry wouldn't be able to use that now...he couldn't do magic away from Hogwarts, and Hermione wasn't here. This thought only depressed him further, as it freshly reminded him of his new found isolation.
Sighing again, he stared hopelessly up at the sky. "Stupid rain..."
As he was about to get back to his work he spotted a small speck in the sky. He squinted at it intensely. It was moving closer, and when it had gotten close enough, Harry was able to make out the outline of an old owl...and it had something in its claws! Harry dropped what he was doing. Judging from how the owl was struggling against the wind and rain, it was Errol.
It must be something from Ron, Harry thought excitedly. Just as Errol neared the house, he suddenly fell sharply from view. Startled, Harry crawled over to the edge of the roof and peered over the edge.
Errol had been struck down and caught in a butterfly net, struggling and hooting angrily. The one holding the net was none other than Dudley. Harry felt a white hot anger rise in the pit of his stomach, but smartly held his tongue. Dudley giggled brainlessly as he untangled the frantic owl's leg from the net. The poor creature dropped out of the net and fell out onto the pavement with a dull thud, dropping the letter he had in his claws. Dudley quickly grabbed this before Errol could reclaim it, and rushed into the house as fast as his fat legs could carry him.
Errol fluttered his wings aggitatedly, and perched himself up in a tree. Harry slipped down, unnoticed, off the roof and through the door that Dudley hadn't bothered to lock. What in the WORLD was that oaf doing...stealing HIS letter!?
Harry stalked noiselessly behind his bumbling cousin, following him down the hallway. Dudley rounded into his bedroom, and Harry stayed behind outside the door, hidden in the shadows behind a shelf. He heard Dudley giggle stupidly again, then the creak of some sort of hinge, a clunk of something shutting, and Dudley ran out of his room and absentmindedly down the hall, empty handed.
Figuring the moron had disgarded the letter in his room, Harry stepped out when the coast was clear and sneaked into the room. His eyes searched over the mess briskly, and fell upon a medium sized trunk in the corner that was void of a lock. He knealt down and opened it quietly, almost sure that it was where Dudley had put the letter.
Sure enough, there it was...lying on top of about fifty other letters addressed to Harry Potter. Harry stood clutching the lid of the trunk open, staring in a mix of astonishment and fury. He reached down, flipping through the letters. Most of them were from Ron, some were from Hermione, and the others-this is what made harry absolutely furious-were letters that he had written to his friends. Letters he had thought reached their destinations safely.
Harry grabbed the handfuls of letters and parcels, almost crumpling some in his rage. His friends hadn't forgotten to write to him...all their letters had been unjustly intercepted! This was too much...ok, so they treated him like shit, abused the hell out of him...but getting involved in his personal life...
"What are YOU doing in MY room!?"
Harry's vengeful thoughts were interrupted by a very familiar fat voice. He snapped his head around to see Dudley in the doorway. "Shit."
Harry let his mail drop back down into the box, only enough time to grab the most recent letter from Ron, and hoisted himself up onto Dudley's window sill. He grabbed the edge of the roof outside, and swung back up onto the roof of the house. Dashing back over to the hole he had been repairing, he grabbed a large slab of tile and held it over his head as to shield himself from the downpour, and hastily unfolded Ron's letter.
"Dear Harry,
I'm starting to get really worried. Why aren't you answering my letters? You don't hate me now or anything, do you? Because I've invited you to stay with my family about 5 times by now...PLEASE answer me this time, Harry.
~Ron
Harry glanced back up to where Errol was watching him expectantly from the tree, and turned over Ron's letter, whipped a quill out of his pocket, and began scribbling away as fast as he could.
"Dear Ron, I'm Sorry --"
Loud thumps sounded behind Harry, and a split second later he found himself crushed against the shingles under an enormous weight. He strained to turn his head around. It was Dudley. How he managed to get onto the roof, Harry could only guess.
"Give me back that letter!" He squawked, reaching out a stubby arm.
Harry extended both letters out of reach. "It's MY letter!" He snarled, "How DARE you take my things!!You Goddamn--" Harry was speaking in tongues even he didn't know he was capable of, and every obscene thing that entered his mind came pouring out of his mouth.
Dudley's eyes widened and he stood up, looking taken aback. "I'm a F-what sucking what??!" He blinked in a serried fashion waiting for his brain to catch up with him. Judging from the way Harry had said it, it must not have been a good thing, he figured, so he shoved Harry hard.
Harry's rage subsided enough to keep him from plummeting over the edge. He grasped onto a turned up shingle and glared up at Dudley. He had a bemused look on his pudgey face. Harry's eyes widened as he pulled a letter from his pocket, one that distinctly had Harry's handwriting on it.
"Stupid Harry, what have you got thats so important to write about anyway?" He unfolded the letter and read aloud, " Dear Ron, why haven't you answered me yet? I really miss you, you know. I haven't seen you all summer." Dudley grinned. "Gee, sounds like you want to marry him or something? Eww! Harry's gay--"
That was the last straw. He had been through a lot in the past few days, but this seemed to snap the last thread of his temper. All Harry could see was red. Shouting something he probably would have never said in his right mind, Harry threw himself back onto the roof and lunged himself at Dudley. Dudley blundered clumsily out of the way, waving the letter in the air. "Ha ha haaaAAAHHH??!"
Dudley stumbled backward, and Harry noticed that the back of his heel was on the very edge of the roof. He was about to fall off. For some reason, Harry stood as if he were in shock, as if things were happening in slow motion. His mind seemed numb, as if it wasn't able to process what was happening. A loud thud from the ground seemed to bring him back into concious thought. There was a sickening crack and a loud scream. Harry froze where he was. "Oh my God..."
He still didn't move his body as he turned his eyes toward the ground, and he held his breath. Aunt Petunia rushed out the front door, and her shrill scream pierced the fog and blanket of rain created by the storm. She rushed over to Dudley, who lay screaming on the pavement. His head was bleeding, and his arm appeared to be broken.
"WHATS GOING ON!!? WHAT HAPPENED!!?"
Harry's heart skipped a beat. It was Uncle Vernons voice. He quickly ran out of the house to where he had heard his wife's cry, and let out a shocked yell as he saw his son lying on the ground.
Petunia was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. "His arm..." she managed to waver, "Its...its broken..."
Uncle Vernon stared, shocked. "What happened...." He stared from his son to the house, to the roof, and then to...
Harry suddenly realized he had been standing there on the roof top in plain view the entire time, and suddenly felt as though the bottom of his stomch had dropped out completely. "Run...run...RUN!!!" He mentally screamed at himself numbly, but his feet were not obeying his orders. He was staring straight into Uncle Vernon's eyes. For some reason he was locked there, unable to move. The few seconds seemed like an eternity. Harry had never seen him so full of hatred.
Suddenly the harsh realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Oh God...he thinks I did it. He thinks I pushed Dudley off the roof, Harry's mind raced wildly, his heart beating madly, He's going to kill me... Harry swallowed thickly. "No..." He slowly began backing up, his eyes still locked on his uncle's, without realizing he had regained control of his muscles.
"Petunia...take Dudley to the hospital. NOW. I will be right over."
Petunia didnt ask any questions. She was so overcome with shock that she hadn't noticed Harry. She had loaded Dudley and herself into the van and were gone in a matter of seconds, and Uncle Vernon stormed in through the front door. There was a click as it locked behind him.
Harry heard thumps racing through the house at breakneck speed...up the stairs...down the hallway...
Harry's breathing came in short gasps, as the another set of thumps joined in. It was his heart. It was beating so hard it felt like a wild animal was trapped within his rib cage, and fighting with all its might to escape. He had to get out of here...he had to get away as soon as possible...far away...
His thoughts jumbled disjointedly. He couldn't get off the roof in time, and he couldn't jump that distance. He could jump back down through the hole in his bedroom! But wait...Uncle vernon was in the house...Harry heard a loud crash of a door hitting a wall...He was in his bedroom. Without thinking, Harry's immediate reaction was to run toward the edge of the roof as fast as he could. Suddenly he was violently yanked backwards as he felt something squeeze tightly aroung his ankle, and he fell heavily onto to roof, and a split second later, he felt the abrasive shingles tearing his skin as he was dragged across the roof by his foot, toward the hole. He glanced behind him, although he already knew what it was...
"You God damn little BASTARD!!" Screamed Uncle Vernon, and Harry's widened with terror as he was dragged toward the hole further. He struggled, trying to grab onto anything on the roof to try and pull himself out of Vernon's grasp, but his efforts were in vain. Vernon growled menacingly, and twisted Harry's ankle painfully, and pulled him so that half of his body hung in through the ceiling. Harry made one final futile attempt to pull himself back up, even though he had the disadvantage. He might as well be dragged into the pits of hell...he would rather endure that instead of what he knew was coming...
Vernon grabbed Harry by the leg and swung him down so he hit the floor as hard as he possibly could, knocking the wind out of him, and he lay spread eagle and terrified. "Run..." his mind repeated. Without thinking, he sprung toward the hallway.
"WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING!!??" Roared Vernon.
Harry's vision suddenly went black as a heavy object was thrown at him, and collided with the back of his head. He landed face down on the carpet at the top of the stairs, and Uncle Vernon used the opportunity to his advantage. With his steel-tipped boot, he kicked Harry with all the strength that he could muster, sending the boy flying like a ragdoll. Harry's head slammed into the railing, and he hit the wall after falling halfway down the steps. He coughed, spitting out blood, which he didn't even have time to realize before he was enveloped in the shadow of his Uncle looming above him once more, and he was dragged violently back up the stairs by fistfuls of his hair, which Uncle Vernon certainly didn't mind ripping out. He then yanked Harry's head up by his hair, forcing him to stare down the stairs infront of him, at the huge mirror at the bottom.
"Please, no..." Harry whispered faintly, his voice shaking with fear.
Uncle Vernon's eyes seemed to flicker briefly with insanity underlined with a deep bloodred flame. With his other hand, he grabbed the back of Harry's shirt, lifted him up, and hurled him full force down the steps. Harry flipped in midair so that he landed painfully on the fourth to last step on his head, and bounced off, his back crashing into the mirror. He fell flat, shards of reflective glass falling all around his bleeding form. The glass had cut deep into his arms and back, but he was too dazed from the impact to notice. He slowly got up into a crawling postion, and his body exploded with pain. His scream echoed throughout the house as his body realized the amount of damage it had taken. His arms shook violently as he was unable to hold himself up any longer, and he collapsed back into a bloody heap. His dulling vision sensed the overbearing shadow around his mangled body once again. With great difficulty, he lifted his head, and stared up at the blurred form of his demon uncle.
"I...m....I'm...no...t...af..raid of... you..."
A cold, cruel laugh sounded from above him. His next words he ground slowly between clenched teeth, full of acrimony. "You'de...BETTER...be..."
He kicked Harry in the side, shattering a rib. Amazingly, Harry did not cry out. He lay in excruciating pain, a look of admirable determination on his face. Ron's words echoed in his mind...'Don't let them see you cry...'. He wouldn't give in...
This only angered Vernon further. He began kicking Harry in a rabid frenzy, bloodying his boot and bloodying a splashed crimson trail into the kitchen. Harry slid across the cold linoleum floor from the final kick. Vernon glowered at him. "Now what was that again, boy?"
Harry gasped a faint breath and grit his teeth. "I'm not afraid of YOU, you GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH!" He retched out.
He already knew it was the end for him. Pleading would do him no good, it would only succeed in making Vernon seem triumphant. He might as well go out with a shred of dignity...
His last words had done it. He felt himself get dragged across the kitchen floor and slam into a wooden cabinet. The thin door covering it splintered in half, and Vernon proceeded to use the detatched half to beat Harry senseless.
Harry felt the wood splinter into his back, mingling with the pain of the glass that was already lodged in him, as his hearing began to fade away. He stared distantly at the floor infront of him. It had gone black and white and fuzzy. The screaming and yelling above him grew distant, and suddenly it felt like he was floating. The pain was staring to go away...all feeling in general was staring to go away.
There was a bizarre sound in the distance that sounded like a buzzing mixed with owl hooting. Errol was fluttering madly at the window, bashing his beak against it furiously. Harry's mind began firing off randomely, and the first thing that came to his mind was Ron, and the last letter he had gotten from him. Even though Harry couldn't feel it, he still had the letter clutched desperately in his hand. The blood running down his arm dotted the parchment sadistically. He turned his head, suprised when he saw he was still holding the letter protectively.
Ron...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...
Harry looked up, dazed, to see a large shape come crashing down on his head. He didn't see the floor rush up to greet his falling form. He didn't feel much as the world grew dark, and finally, his body fell broken and limp down onto the floor as everything went black.
*****
Chapter 2: I'm not afraid of you
Author: Chibi Ron Weasley
Rating: R (for violence and language)
Memorandum: I love you people!! Thank you for reviewing me!! Please continue to review so i can post more.
I dont own Harry Potter, damn it, or any of the characters. So whatever I'm doing here just comes out of my sick little mind.
***********************************************************************
~I'm not afraid of you~
The next day Harry was roused in a rather rude fashion, and dragged out of his room. Still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he groggily stood in the kitchen facing his uncle in the clothes he had fallen asleep in the previous day.
"Here," Vernon belched, shoving a hammer and a box of nails into Harry's hands. He blankly stared at Uncle Vernon as if he was supposed to magically know what to do with them.
"Don't just stand here staring, boy, get to work!" he growled at Harry, "You're fixing that hole in the room now, by yourself!"
Harry looked out the window. It had been pouring since five that morning, and obviously it still was, and rather hard at that. "Urm...but it's raining--"
"I don't care!" Uncle Vernon spat back, "The neighbors saw that purple...whatever it was yesterday, and I had to make up an excuse for it! I want that roof fixed NOW, before the whole street knows it came from our house!"
The expression he had on his face told Harry that beginning an argument would be futile, so he mutely turned and walked out the door. Dudley was smirking at him from the top of the stairs, and Harry knew he would only gloat more if he looked upset as he walked out. So he retained his static expression, not even acknowledging Dudley with more than a glance. The door shut behind him, clicking as the lock was turned.
"Gee...isn't this just PEACHY," Harry mumbled. he was already thoroughly soaked even though he had only been outside for a couple seconds, and he was still sore and aching from yesterdays beating.
He grabbed the ladder from under the bushes, propped it against the house, and proceeded to climb to the roof. There was already a neat little pile of shingles and tile-like substance to hastily patch the hole. He guessed it didn't matter how well it was patched, just as long as it looked ok from the outside. It was his room, after all.
He pounded away noisily, accidentally hitting his finger more than once. It was very hard to see with the water and his wet hair running down over his glasses, and he couldn't take them off, because it would be just as hard to see without them. He sighed in frustration. Hermione had fixed this problem for him during one rainy quidditch match with one of her charms, but Harry wouldn't be able to use that now...he couldn't do magic away from Hogwarts, and Hermione wasn't here. This thought only depressed him further, as it freshly reminded him of his new found isolation.
Sighing again, he stared hopelessly up at the sky. "Stupid rain..."
As he was about to get back to his work he spotted a small speck in the sky. He squinted at it intensely. It was moving closer, and when it had gotten close enough, Harry was able to make out the outline of an old owl...and it had something in its claws! Harry dropped what he was doing. Judging from how the owl was struggling against the wind and rain, it was Errol.
It must be something from Ron, Harry thought excitedly. Just as Errol neared the house, he suddenly fell sharply from view. Startled, Harry crawled over to the edge of the roof and peered over the edge.
Errol had been struck down and caught in a butterfly net, struggling and hooting angrily. The one holding the net was none other than Dudley. Harry felt a white hot anger rise in the pit of his stomach, but smartly held his tongue. Dudley giggled brainlessly as he untangled the frantic owl's leg from the net. The poor creature dropped out of the net and fell out onto the pavement with a dull thud, dropping the letter he had in his claws. Dudley quickly grabbed this before Errol could reclaim it, and rushed into the house as fast as his fat legs could carry him.
Errol fluttered his wings aggitatedly, and perched himself up in a tree. Harry slipped down, unnoticed, off the roof and through the door that Dudley hadn't bothered to lock. What in the WORLD was that oaf doing...stealing HIS letter!?
Harry stalked noiselessly behind his bumbling cousin, following him down the hallway. Dudley rounded into his bedroom, and Harry stayed behind outside the door, hidden in the shadows behind a shelf. He heard Dudley giggle stupidly again, then the creak of some sort of hinge, a clunk of something shutting, and Dudley ran out of his room and absentmindedly down the hall, empty handed.
Figuring the moron had disgarded the letter in his room, Harry stepped out when the coast was clear and sneaked into the room. His eyes searched over the mess briskly, and fell upon a medium sized trunk in the corner that was void of a lock. He knealt down and opened it quietly, almost sure that it was where Dudley had put the letter.
Sure enough, there it was...lying on top of about fifty other letters addressed to Harry Potter. Harry stood clutching the lid of the trunk open, staring in a mix of astonishment and fury. He reached down, flipping through the letters. Most of them were from Ron, some were from Hermione, and the others-this is what made harry absolutely furious-were letters that he had written to his friends. Letters he had thought reached their destinations safely.
Harry grabbed the handfuls of letters and parcels, almost crumpling some in his rage. His friends hadn't forgotten to write to him...all their letters had been unjustly intercepted! This was too much...ok, so they treated him like shit, abused the hell out of him...but getting involved in his personal life...
"What are YOU doing in MY room!?"
Harry's vengeful thoughts were interrupted by a very familiar fat voice. He snapped his head around to see Dudley in the doorway. "Shit."
Harry let his mail drop back down into the box, only enough time to grab the most recent letter from Ron, and hoisted himself up onto Dudley's window sill. He grabbed the edge of the roof outside, and swung back up onto the roof of the house. Dashing back over to the hole he had been repairing, he grabbed a large slab of tile and held it over his head as to shield himself from the downpour, and hastily unfolded Ron's letter.
"Dear Harry,
I'm starting to get really worried. Why aren't you answering my letters? You don't hate me now or anything, do you? Because I've invited you to stay with my family about 5 times by now...PLEASE answer me this time, Harry.
~Ron
Harry glanced back up to where Errol was watching him expectantly from the tree, and turned over Ron's letter, whipped a quill out of his pocket, and began scribbling away as fast as he could.
"Dear Ron, I'm Sorry --"
Loud thumps sounded behind Harry, and a split second later he found himself crushed against the shingles under an enormous weight. He strained to turn his head around. It was Dudley. How he managed to get onto the roof, Harry could only guess.
"Give me back that letter!" He squawked, reaching out a stubby arm.
Harry extended both letters out of reach. "It's MY letter!" He snarled, "How DARE you take my things!!You Goddamn--" Harry was speaking in tongues even he didn't know he was capable of, and every obscene thing that entered his mind came pouring out of his mouth.
Dudley's eyes widened and he stood up, looking taken aback. "I'm a F-what sucking what??!" He blinked in a serried fashion waiting for his brain to catch up with him. Judging from the way Harry had said it, it must not have been a good thing, he figured, so he shoved Harry hard.
Harry's rage subsided enough to keep him from plummeting over the edge. He grasped onto a turned up shingle and glared up at Dudley. He had a bemused look on his pudgey face. Harry's eyes widened as he pulled a letter from his pocket, one that distinctly had Harry's handwriting on it.
"Stupid Harry, what have you got thats so important to write about anyway?" He unfolded the letter and read aloud, " Dear Ron, why haven't you answered me yet? I really miss you, you know. I haven't seen you all summer." Dudley grinned. "Gee, sounds like you want to marry him or something? Eww! Harry's gay--"
That was the last straw. He had been through a lot in the past few days, but this seemed to snap the last thread of his temper. All Harry could see was red. Shouting something he probably would have never said in his right mind, Harry threw himself back onto the roof and lunged himself at Dudley. Dudley blundered clumsily out of the way, waving the letter in the air. "Ha ha haaaAAAHHH??!"
Dudley stumbled backward, and Harry noticed that the back of his heel was on the very edge of the roof. He was about to fall off. For some reason, Harry stood as if he were in shock, as if things were happening in slow motion. His mind seemed numb, as if it wasn't able to process what was happening. A loud thud from the ground seemed to bring him back into concious thought. There was a sickening crack and a loud scream. Harry froze where he was. "Oh my God..."
He still didn't move his body as he turned his eyes toward the ground, and he held his breath. Aunt Petunia rushed out the front door, and her shrill scream pierced the fog and blanket of rain created by the storm. She rushed over to Dudley, who lay screaming on the pavement. His head was bleeding, and his arm appeared to be broken.
"WHATS GOING ON!!? WHAT HAPPENED!!?"
Harry's heart skipped a beat. It was Uncle Vernons voice. He quickly ran out of the house to where he had heard his wife's cry, and let out a shocked yell as he saw his son lying on the ground.
Petunia was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. "His arm..." she managed to waver, "Its...its broken..."
Uncle Vernon stared, shocked. "What happened...." He stared from his son to the house, to the roof, and then to...
Harry suddenly realized he had been standing there on the roof top in plain view the entire time, and suddenly felt as though the bottom of his stomch had dropped out completely. "Run...run...RUN!!!" He mentally screamed at himself numbly, but his feet were not obeying his orders. He was staring straight into Uncle Vernon's eyes. For some reason he was locked there, unable to move. The few seconds seemed like an eternity. Harry had never seen him so full of hatred.
Suddenly the harsh realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Oh God...he thinks I did it. He thinks I pushed Dudley off the roof, Harry's mind raced wildly, his heart beating madly, He's going to kill me... Harry swallowed thickly. "No..." He slowly began backing up, his eyes still locked on his uncle's, without realizing he had regained control of his muscles.
"Petunia...take Dudley to the hospital. NOW. I will be right over."
Petunia didnt ask any questions. She was so overcome with shock that she hadn't noticed Harry. She had loaded Dudley and herself into the van and were gone in a matter of seconds, and Uncle Vernon stormed in through the front door. There was a click as it locked behind him.
Harry heard thumps racing through the house at breakneck speed...up the stairs...down the hallway...
Harry's breathing came in short gasps, as the another set of thumps joined in. It was his heart. It was beating so hard it felt like a wild animal was trapped within his rib cage, and fighting with all its might to escape. He had to get out of here...he had to get away as soon as possible...far away...
His thoughts jumbled disjointedly. He couldn't get off the roof in time, and he couldn't jump that distance. He could jump back down through the hole in his bedroom! But wait...Uncle vernon was in the house...Harry heard a loud crash of a door hitting a wall...He was in his bedroom. Without thinking, Harry's immediate reaction was to run toward the edge of the roof as fast as he could. Suddenly he was violently yanked backwards as he felt something squeeze tightly aroung his ankle, and he fell heavily onto to roof, and a split second later, he felt the abrasive shingles tearing his skin as he was dragged across the roof by his foot, toward the hole. He glanced behind him, although he already knew what it was...
"You God damn little BASTARD!!" Screamed Uncle Vernon, and Harry's widened with terror as he was dragged toward the hole further. He struggled, trying to grab onto anything on the roof to try and pull himself out of Vernon's grasp, but his efforts were in vain. Vernon growled menacingly, and twisted Harry's ankle painfully, and pulled him so that half of his body hung in through the ceiling. Harry made one final futile attempt to pull himself back up, even though he had the disadvantage. He might as well be dragged into the pits of hell...he would rather endure that instead of what he knew was coming...
Vernon grabbed Harry by the leg and swung him down so he hit the floor as hard as he possibly could, knocking the wind out of him, and he lay spread eagle and terrified. "Run..." his mind repeated. Without thinking, he sprung toward the hallway.
"WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING!!??" Roared Vernon.
Harry's vision suddenly went black as a heavy object was thrown at him, and collided with the back of his head. He landed face down on the carpet at the top of the stairs, and Uncle Vernon used the opportunity to his advantage. With his steel-tipped boot, he kicked Harry with all the strength that he could muster, sending the boy flying like a ragdoll. Harry's head slammed into the railing, and he hit the wall after falling halfway down the steps. He coughed, spitting out blood, which he didn't even have time to realize before he was enveloped in the shadow of his Uncle looming above him once more, and he was dragged violently back up the stairs by fistfuls of his hair, which Uncle Vernon certainly didn't mind ripping out. He then yanked Harry's head up by his hair, forcing him to stare down the stairs infront of him, at the huge mirror at the bottom.
"Please, no..." Harry whispered faintly, his voice shaking with fear.
Uncle Vernon's eyes seemed to flicker briefly with insanity underlined with a deep bloodred flame. With his other hand, he grabbed the back of Harry's shirt, lifted him up, and hurled him full force down the steps. Harry flipped in midair so that he landed painfully on the fourth to last step on his head, and bounced off, his back crashing into the mirror. He fell flat, shards of reflective glass falling all around his bleeding form. The glass had cut deep into his arms and back, but he was too dazed from the impact to notice. He slowly got up into a crawling postion, and his body exploded with pain. His scream echoed throughout the house as his body realized the amount of damage it had taken. His arms shook violently as he was unable to hold himself up any longer, and he collapsed back into a bloody heap. His dulling vision sensed the overbearing shadow around his mangled body once again. With great difficulty, he lifted his head, and stared up at the blurred form of his demon uncle.
"I...m....I'm...no...t...af..raid of... you..."
A cold, cruel laugh sounded from above him. His next words he ground slowly between clenched teeth, full of acrimony. "You'de...BETTER...be..."
He kicked Harry in the side, shattering a rib. Amazingly, Harry did not cry out. He lay in excruciating pain, a look of admirable determination on his face. Ron's words echoed in his mind...'Don't let them see you cry...'. He wouldn't give in...
This only angered Vernon further. He began kicking Harry in a rabid frenzy, bloodying his boot and bloodying a splashed crimson trail into the kitchen. Harry slid across the cold linoleum floor from the final kick. Vernon glowered at him. "Now what was that again, boy?"
Harry gasped a faint breath and grit his teeth. "I'm not afraid of YOU, you GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH!" He retched out.
He already knew it was the end for him. Pleading would do him no good, it would only succeed in making Vernon seem triumphant. He might as well go out with a shred of dignity...
His last words had done it. He felt himself get dragged across the kitchen floor and slam into a wooden cabinet. The thin door covering it splintered in half, and Vernon proceeded to use the detatched half to beat Harry senseless.
Harry felt the wood splinter into his back, mingling with the pain of the glass that was already lodged in him, as his hearing began to fade away. He stared distantly at the floor infront of him. It had gone black and white and fuzzy. The screaming and yelling above him grew distant, and suddenly it felt like he was floating. The pain was staring to go away...all feeling in general was staring to go away.
There was a bizarre sound in the distance that sounded like a buzzing mixed with owl hooting. Errol was fluttering madly at the window, bashing his beak against it furiously. Harry's mind began firing off randomely, and the first thing that came to his mind was Ron, and the last letter he had gotten from him. Even though Harry couldn't feel it, he still had the letter clutched desperately in his hand. The blood running down his arm dotted the parchment sadistically. He turned his head, suprised when he saw he was still holding the letter protectively.
Ron...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...
Harry looked up, dazed, to see a large shape come crashing down on his head. He didn't see the floor rush up to greet his falling form. He didn't feel much as the world grew dark, and finally, his body fell broken and limp down onto the floor as everything went black.
*****
