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It was summer, the time when most people, most children, are enjoying themselves with their friends and family. But this is not true for one boy in particular. For just two days Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had been living in the hell hole his relatives called home.

Harry's uncle had received a letter from Harry's Headmaster describing the events of the last year, as well as telling Harry's uncle that there would no longer be a guard watching over them for, they could not spare the people. He asked that they watch over Harry and make sure he did not leave the Dumbledore have said anything worse? Harry asked himself. For these where the words that Vernon Dursley had been longing to hear. With these words Harry's life became hell. His Uncle, not heeding Moody's warning, locked Harry away in his room after boarding his window up.

Harry was just thankful he had let Hedwig free; at least she was not trapped with him. For the last two days, Harry received no food, was forced to do laborious chores, and, at night, his Uncle would come and beat him. But the worst was that Harry felt he deserved all of this, that Sirius's death' as well as Cedric's was all his fault.

Harry knew he had to live. He was the one the prophecy spoke of . . . or was he? What if it was wrong? He could not defend himself against a Muggle . . . how was he suppose to defeat Voldemort?

A week had passed, and the beatings worsened with each night. He was his uncle's punching bag. His Aunt, one who shared blood with Lily Potter . . . who loved her son so much she died for him, just sat back and watched. His thick head of a cousin would just laugh.


"Hermione shh, don't cry," said Ron, nervously trying to calm hisupset friend.

Hermione started to hiccup. "Ron, what am I suppose to do" I mean, they were my parents! Maybe not by blood, but... and leaving me with baby Chris... how am I supposed do this?" asked Hermione frantically.

"Don't worry, Hermione, I'll help you get through this," replied Ron comfortingly.

She rested her head against his shoulder. "I wish Harry would write back. I need both of you."

"I know, Hermione, I know," said Ron quietly.


That same night, Harry's uncle came home very drunk. He went right up to Harry's room and started yelling at him. Vernon had been fired and blamed Harry for it.

"You will pay for this, boy, I swear you'll pay!" he yelled leaving the room. Soon, he came back, a baseball bat in hand. Without a word, he hit Harry with it again, and again, until Harry finally lost consciousness.

When Harry woke, he found himself tied to a support pole with leather belts, wearing nothing but his boxers. He soon realized that he was in the basement.

Harry heard a short, nasty-sounding laugh. It was his uncle, who approached Harry with a long, thick leather belt. The next thing he knew, his uncle was whipping him with the buckle of the belt. Each swing came down harder and harder. Harry whimpered throughout, trying not to give his uncle the satisfaction of yelling. When his uncle was tired of that, he brought out a knife and matches.

Heating the knife, he started carving things in the Harry's skin. Words like "freak" or "unworthy". After that, his uncle decided it be fun to light himself a cigarette which was only used to burn Harry's skin.

After hours of inhumane torture, after Harry could no longer keep the screams in, after his voice became coarse and dry, his uncle just stopped and left the room. Harry allowed himself to feel slightly relieved. The last thing he expected was for his uncle to come back with a loaded rifle. . .


"Fred, George you there?" asked Ron though the fireplace.

"Why of course, little brother, what may we do for you?" asked Fred.

"Shh! I need to come over to the store, is that all right?" asked Ron quickly.

"Sure," they chorused.

Ron took some floo powder, stepped into the fireplace, and yelled "Weasley's Wizards' Weezes!"

"So what's the problem little brother?" asked the twins.

"Harry," stated Ron. "Something's wrong. He has not answered any of my letters. It's not like him."

"True," said Fred "But he did loose Sirius just a few weeks ago, you know."

"Yes, I know, but even with that Harry would still have written back to Hermione. No, something is wrong. Please help me, guys. After the Grangers' death, Hermione really needs Harry and me. And, with Hermione finding out who her real parents are, she really needs family," finished Ron, now out of breath.

They both nodded. "Come on, we'll take the Knight Bus," George decided, while Fred yelled to Lee to look after the store. "We should be there around midnight."


Harry watched as his Uncle pointed the gun at him and all that he could think about was his friends. His uncle grinned like a maniac and said,

"You where never loved, you freak. You have been a burden, a disgrace to my family since you were first left here."

With that, a shot rang out. Something hard pierced Harry's shoulder. And then another hit him in the stomach. As his Uncle went to reload the rifle, a blinding white light surrounded Harry.

A phoenix's song sounded through the dark basement and Harry disappeared, leaving an unconscious Uncle who would be later found by three of the Weasley brothers next to a pool of blood.


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