The Summer from Hell
A/N: I want to thank my beta reader Angel of Death for helping me in finding and correcting my mistakes.
A/N 2: I blame all my mistakes on my missing English education. I didn't have English lessons since nearly a year. and they don't offer English courses here. only economy English. but of what use is it when you aren't able to properly speak English? Sorry for the rant. must be the fear of the exams next month.
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody. they all belong to JK Rowling
Prologue
You could title Harry's stay at the Dursleys' this year as 'The Summer from Hell'. Compared to a 'normal' summer he literally did go through hell. Granted, his 'normal' summers were not nice and usually included little food, a seemingly endless list of chores and the occasional punishments for unfinished chores, punishments which included beatings and time completely without food. He also received injuries from his run-ins with Dudley.
Usually he managed to avoid them but from time to time his cousin got lucky. It helped that his cousin seemed to become more and more afraid of him. It meant that he only had to avoid him when his friends were around. He had to smile at that. His cousin had to go by the law all bullies bowed down to: 'Only feel strong in a group'.
But the previous summers, even with all their cruelty, were heaven compared to this one. At the end of the last school year, Harry had made the worst mistake of his life - something he would forever regret doing - which ultimately lead to his current situation. Because of this mistake, his uncle found out what was previously his best kept secret, something he had only shared with very few people, and which made him even more abnormal in the eyes of his relatives than being a wizard already did. And it was exactly what his uncle had waited for since he had gotten his first Hogwarts letter and started attending the Wizarding School 6 years ago.
The fear of his magical talent and wizarding friends was forgotten. Why should they care when they seemed to be of the same opinion as the Dursleys'? At least his former best friends are of this opinion he thought sadly to himself, and not only that. They had made sure that everybody was aware of it. Maybe he should have listened to the sorting hat all those years ago. but than he wouldn't have met Oliver Wood and the Weasley Twins.
Now his life at the Dursleys' had returned to the way it was before he went off to his first year, all those years ago. This included regular beatings, even less food than before, and being placed back in his old room, the cupboard under the stairs. Needless to say that Dudley was delighted by this. He even thanked Harry for it, for being gay. After all it meant that he got his second bedroom back. It most probably was already a complete mess again.
Lying in his tiny cupboard, Harry knew that he would not survive much longer in his current situation. While his injuries were not fatal, they were grave enough to turn deathly with further beatings, and his relatives could not care less about this. Therefore, that situation would most likely be reached sooner rather than later. He simply could not stay any longer than necessary at 4 Privet Drive if he wanted to survive.
A few days later, Harry's much hoped for chance finally came. The Dursley's were going out in order to celebrate Dudley's 17th birthday at some restaurant and luck was on his side: His uncle had forgotten to lock his cupboard after his latest beating. It had been a birthday surprise for his cousin: a free beating of the freak for as long as he liked and with no rules. Not that there ever were rules. Harry assumed that he had at least a few broken rips, a terrible headache and most probably a broken arm as well. Not to mention that he hurt all over.
He waited for nearly half an hour after he heard the Dursleys driving away, before he dared to carefully crawl out of the small cupboard, trying not to worsen any of his injuries.
Once he was standing in the corridor, trying to keep his arm as still as possible, he thought about his next move. He had heard the front door being locked, and as there was no spare key, there was no way he would be leaving through there. The only other door he could think of was the kitchen door. He hoped fervently that this one was open, as he did not want to climb through a window with his already hurting body. Silently, he walked through the door leading to the kitchen and headed to the back door. He pressed lightly on the door handle and, to his delight, the door opened.
Leaving the house for the first time since he reached 4 Privet Drive at the beginning of the summer holidays, a little less than a month before, was relieving. He took a deep breath of the fresh night air, wincing as he felt his broken ribs, before going around the house to the front yard and from there on to the street. Standing on the pavement, he thought about where to go next.
He immediately ruled Dumbledore out, seeing as the old man would most likely send him back, saying that he was safest there. He could not help himself but laugh at the thought. He might be safe from Voldemort but not from his relatives. With Dumbledore gone, Hogwarts was also out, since the old wizard lived there all year around.
His friends - his former friends he corrected himself sadly - were out was well. Aside from the fact that they had ended their friendship with him, he neither knew Hermione's address nor did he think that the Weasley's would keep his new location a secret from Dumbledore.
He could go to Oliver or the Weasley Twins, who lived above their shop, but he was not sure whether they were at home aside from the fact that he would have to use the Knight Bus. Something that was impossible since he did not have any money on himself.
St. Mungos wouldn't work either. The moment he was admitted, the news would be out faster than he could say 'Quidditch', and that was something he wanted to avoid as best as he could.
So what options remained? Suddenly he remembered the hospital near his old school. The bus that had taken them to school each morning had to pass it. He worried a bit about them realising that he was a wizard - or at least different than the other patients - but soon discarded this thought. He needed all the help he could get, after all, and the top priority of the doctors and nurses would be his health. That was one point in which the muggle and the wizarding world did not differ much. With that thought in mind, he went down the street on his long way to the Surrey Hospital, Little Whinging.
Tbc.
A/N: I want to thank my beta reader Angel of Death for helping me in finding and correcting my mistakes.
A/N 2: I blame all my mistakes on my missing English education. I didn't have English lessons since nearly a year. and they don't offer English courses here. only economy English. but of what use is it when you aren't able to properly speak English? Sorry for the rant. must be the fear of the exams next month.
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody. they all belong to JK Rowling
Prologue
You could title Harry's stay at the Dursleys' this year as 'The Summer from Hell'. Compared to a 'normal' summer he literally did go through hell. Granted, his 'normal' summers were not nice and usually included little food, a seemingly endless list of chores and the occasional punishments for unfinished chores, punishments which included beatings and time completely without food. He also received injuries from his run-ins with Dudley.
Usually he managed to avoid them but from time to time his cousin got lucky. It helped that his cousin seemed to become more and more afraid of him. It meant that he only had to avoid him when his friends were around. He had to smile at that. His cousin had to go by the law all bullies bowed down to: 'Only feel strong in a group'.
But the previous summers, even with all their cruelty, were heaven compared to this one. At the end of the last school year, Harry had made the worst mistake of his life - something he would forever regret doing - which ultimately lead to his current situation. Because of this mistake, his uncle found out what was previously his best kept secret, something he had only shared with very few people, and which made him even more abnormal in the eyes of his relatives than being a wizard already did. And it was exactly what his uncle had waited for since he had gotten his first Hogwarts letter and started attending the Wizarding School 6 years ago.
The fear of his magical talent and wizarding friends was forgotten. Why should they care when they seemed to be of the same opinion as the Dursleys'? At least his former best friends are of this opinion he thought sadly to himself, and not only that. They had made sure that everybody was aware of it. Maybe he should have listened to the sorting hat all those years ago. but than he wouldn't have met Oliver Wood and the Weasley Twins.
Now his life at the Dursleys' had returned to the way it was before he went off to his first year, all those years ago. This included regular beatings, even less food than before, and being placed back in his old room, the cupboard under the stairs. Needless to say that Dudley was delighted by this. He even thanked Harry for it, for being gay. After all it meant that he got his second bedroom back. It most probably was already a complete mess again.
Lying in his tiny cupboard, Harry knew that he would not survive much longer in his current situation. While his injuries were not fatal, they were grave enough to turn deathly with further beatings, and his relatives could not care less about this. Therefore, that situation would most likely be reached sooner rather than later. He simply could not stay any longer than necessary at 4 Privet Drive if he wanted to survive.
A few days later, Harry's much hoped for chance finally came. The Dursley's were going out in order to celebrate Dudley's 17th birthday at some restaurant and luck was on his side: His uncle had forgotten to lock his cupboard after his latest beating. It had been a birthday surprise for his cousin: a free beating of the freak for as long as he liked and with no rules. Not that there ever were rules. Harry assumed that he had at least a few broken rips, a terrible headache and most probably a broken arm as well. Not to mention that he hurt all over.
He waited for nearly half an hour after he heard the Dursleys driving away, before he dared to carefully crawl out of the small cupboard, trying not to worsen any of his injuries.
Once he was standing in the corridor, trying to keep his arm as still as possible, he thought about his next move. He had heard the front door being locked, and as there was no spare key, there was no way he would be leaving through there. The only other door he could think of was the kitchen door. He hoped fervently that this one was open, as he did not want to climb through a window with his already hurting body. Silently, he walked through the door leading to the kitchen and headed to the back door. He pressed lightly on the door handle and, to his delight, the door opened.
Leaving the house for the first time since he reached 4 Privet Drive at the beginning of the summer holidays, a little less than a month before, was relieving. He took a deep breath of the fresh night air, wincing as he felt his broken ribs, before going around the house to the front yard and from there on to the street. Standing on the pavement, he thought about where to go next.
He immediately ruled Dumbledore out, seeing as the old man would most likely send him back, saying that he was safest there. He could not help himself but laugh at the thought. He might be safe from Voldemort but not from his relatives. With Dumbledore gone, Hogwarts was also out, since the old wizard lived there all year around.
His friends - his former friends he corrected himself sadly - were out was well. Aside from the fact that they had ended their friendship with him, he neither knew Hermione's address nor did he think that the Weasley's would keep his new location a secret from Dumbledore.
He could go to Oliver or the Weasley Twins, who lived above their shop, but he was not sure whether they were at home aside from the fact that he would have to use the Knight Bus. Something that was impossible since he did not have any money on himself.
St. Mungos wouldn't work either. The moment he was admitted, the news would be out faster than he could say 'Quidditch', and that was something he wanted to avoid as best as he could.
So what options remained? Suddenly he remembered the hospital near his old school. The bus that had taken them to school each morning had to pass it. He worried a bit about them realising that he was a wizard - or at least different than the other patients - but soon discarded this thought. He needed all the help he could get, after all, and the top priority of the doctors and nurses would be his health. That was one point in which the muggle and the wizarding world did not differ much. With that thought in mind, he went down the street on his long way to the Surrey Hospital, Little Whinging.
Tbc.