Chapter I
"Wake up, boy! You've chores to do!"
Harry awoke early in the morning to the shrill voice of his aunt outside the closed door of his bedroom. He groaned as he realized that it was the start of yet another miserable day in the Dursley's 'normal' household. He slipped out of the comfort of his bed and dressed in the too large hand-me-downs that had once belonged to his slightly older cousin Dudley, who was a lot more than slightly bigger than him.
He reached for his glasses on the bedside table and slid them onto his face with a resigned sigh. Then he trudged out of his room and down the stairs to the kitchen before Vernon could come looking for him. Not something that he wanted to happen again. He exhaled softly and pushed that thought from his head.
After all, no use thinking of the past. It's too depressing, Harry thought.
He really was amazed at how life here continued as it did, but he knew that after he left this time it would never return to this. In some ways it was a relief to know this, but in others he knew this life was probably preferable to the life of chaos and danger he would have after he left in two days.
Harry shook his head and stepped into the kitchen to see his aunt Petunia standing beside the stove cracking eggs into a large frying pan. His uncle Vernon was sitting at the kitchen table with his newspaper open to the sports section.
"Mind the food, boy," the horse-faced, bony woman ordered. She then took a pitcher of orange juice to the kitchen table to set before his uncle Vernon. The huge man partially closed the morning paper to grab a piece of toast and began to read the front page just as Dudley waddled into the room to sit at his usual chair beside his father.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry said softly, unheard by anyone.
His skinny aunt turned to fawn over his whale-sized cousin while Harry finished making the scrambled eggs. His stomach rumbled and his mouth watered at the smell of the food. But he knew that he wasn't going to get to eat until tomorrow. Vernon had decided to withhold meals for a week after he had overslept fifteen minutes when his aunt had told him to get up one morning.
He sighed in disgust at the way Dudley was slobbly digging into the muffins and jam, stuffing his face without a single concern for any others around him. Harry looked down at his feet then other to his cousin's plate. The amount of food on it was more than Harry was ever allowed to eat even if he wasn't being punished.
Dudley smirked at Harry when he caught him staring and turned to his mother.
"Mum can I have some eggs to go with my toast?"
"Of course my little Duddlikins," She cooed, then sniffed in Harry's direction. The young wizard knew better than to ignore the summoning and he almost ran to the small table with the pan. He went to scrape a portion onto Dudley's plate when the overlarge cousin of his put a large foot behind him, efficiently tripping him when he turned back around. Eggs went flying into the air and hit Vernon and Petunia in the face as Harry himself face planted on the no longer clean kitchen floor. The pan was still clutched in his hand.
"BOY!" Vernon went purple in the face as he wiped off the oily eggs and glared down at the raven-haired wizardling in absolute rage.
"Yes, U-uncle Ver-rnon?" Harry shook in fear as he slowly backed away, his back hitting the counter. Petunia watched it silently, pale but nuetral. Dudley winced and looked away, feeling a tiny bit of guilt.
The older man picked up Harry quite easily and carried the boy over to the basement door. He pushed it open roughly, practically pushing the boy down the stairs into the sound-proofed basement. The raven-haired wizard closed his eyes tightly as older man then threw him to the floor, skinning his hands. Harry struggled not to whimper in fear and got to his feet, but was unable to look up at the fat man towering over him.
His uncle returned up the stairs to lock the basement door before turning to look down at the sixteen year old with a venomous growl. Harry knew that even though he had one nothing wrong that he was going to get punished. It was not the first time and he doubted that it would be the last. He was not looking forward to what was about to happen.
"Get me the whip, freak." Vernon voice was silent but Harry ran to do what he was told. It would only be worse if he didn't obey quickly. He picked it up carefully disgusted by the blood that stained it. His blood. He abruptly turned and hurried to hand it to his enraged uncle. The older man ripped it out of the smaller boy's hands and roughly pushed the teen against the cold, cement brick wall. Harry shivered at his uncle's hissing voice. "Take it all off. Now."
Harry began to pull off his too large clothing and felt horribly exposed as the bigger man pressed him against the wall once more. Harry shivered, waiting for the whip to fall like it always did. Then he felt it, the whip lashing out across his flesh. It was all a familiar pain as his skin tore open and his back oozed crimson streaks of blood. He whimpered, biting down on his lip hard as he struggled to not make any noise. The next lash crisscrossing the first and he failed like always. Harry screamed in agony. And it continued, lash after painful lash, until finally Harry slipped into unconsciousness.
OMOMO
Green eyes opened to the morning rays of the sun shining brightly through the window and into the room to lighten the veiw. Harry shuddered within his blanket before turning away from the brilliant light shining into his room with a heavy heart and sore body. He ached from head to toe.
I had spent all of yesterday in the basement. How did I get here? No, don't think about it. Any of it. It's all to fresh and painful. He. . . No! Ignore it. Bury it deep and never look there again.
The boy-who-lived reached for his glasses at last and slowly sat up in a way that didn't let his back touch anything. Groaning, he felt his abused muscles stretch after being still for so long. It was a torment to look down at his naked body covered in it's many cuts and bruises. He sighed and leaned forward to rest his belly against the fluffed up pillows. At least he knew that no one would bother him until it was time to go.
"Accio wand," he said softly, holding out his hand. Once again glad that he had spelled his wand to not give away that it was being used over the summer. He hastily used a healing spell that he learned during this past school year and was surprised to feel almost all the pain fade away. Harry shot to his feet and strode quickly to the mirror to see that the bruises were still there, but the cuts were gone as if they never existed. Even his back that had been laced with lashs from his uncle's whip no longer hurt as they had only moments before.
But. . . that was a low level healing spell. . .it shouldn't have healed that much. . . I think. . . Harry sighed and backed away from the small mirror to sit back down on his bed. Maybe the damage wasn't as bad as I had thought. . . But I felt the pain. I know it so well. . . So what really happened?
The sixteen year old boy exhaled noisily and laid back down on the bed. He was sore, tired, and so confused that it felt as if his head was going to start spinning. Harry decided that it would probably be best if he slept some more so he got off his bed to pull up the loose floorboard. He slowly reached in to pick up a small stoppered vial and gently pulled back to replace the flooring. If his aunt or uncle heard him awake it might not be such a good thing.
The raven-haired teen again got into bed and unstopped the vial to down its contents in a single flowing move. It was a restoritive with a mild sleeping draught in it. Harry smiled softly down at the now empty glass vial. It was his very own creation. A chuckle passed his lips suddenly, quietly.
Just think. . . If only Snape knew how good I actually was at potions. . . He'd probably have a heartattack in shock. . .
The green-eyed boy smiled self-mockingly before he put down the vial, and pulled his pillow closer. The fresh scent of newly laundered sheets tickled his nose as he sombered. Tomorrow he would be on his way back to Hogwarts for his sixth year and he briefly wondered why he couldn't gather more enthusiasm about it. Harry only gave a mental shrug as he let himself be pulled back into the icy blackness of unconsciousness.
TBC. . .
There may be a possible rewrite for the first couple of chapters but not right now.
