Right, after a fantastic first chapter by Twisted Silver Dagger I'm going
to be doing the second chapter. Sorry to disappoint all of you, my fellow
writer will be doing the third chapter. For now you're stuck with me, so I
hope you'll survive it. Without further adieu I'll get started.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. is owned and trademarks of Warner Bros. and JK Rowling. The plot however is owned by the writers. Mostly Twisted Silver Dagger though.
~@~
The sun shone brightly and warmed everything that it's rays touched. It was late afternoon and most were enjoying the sun. Some people sat on lawn chairs reading the newspaper, some snoozed while others were sunbathing. The sun was an object of oppression to one person however. Harry was the unfortunate person that was feeling the wrath of the blazing sun. He had been working in the garden for well over seven hours now and he was still nowhere near finishing his work. At the moment he was mowing the lawn while he could feel his skin burning from the sun.
He limped as he pushed the lawn mower along. The beatings from the man he now only called Vernon had taken their toll. He shuddered a little at the thought of his beating he got after his aunt had found the blood from his cuts on his bed sheets. It seemed to him that she couldn't wait to tell her husband. It was then that Harry found that the pruning shears would become his best friend. It never let him down, it was always there for him, not like the people he had thought were his friends at Hogwarts.
He gave a small snort as he carried on pushing the mower at the thought Hermione and Ron. Neither had bothered to contact him, to find out how he was or even wish him a happy birthday. Did they not care about the abuse he was receiving? Did they not care if he was all right or not?
"Did they ever care?" Harry said softly to himself.
After another twenty minutes of tiring work Harry was finished with the task of mowing the lawn. Harry hated mowing the lawn, but Vernon insisted that because of the drought that the grass had to be kept trim. Vernon reasoned that by doing this the grass wouldn't need much water. It did however give Vernon the chance to give Harry more work to do. He insisted that Harry mow the lawn every day to keep the lawn in its short condition, or else. Harry always knew what the or else would be, another beating.
Harry pushed the lawn mower and out it away. The sun was high in the sky and it was now entering late afternoon. He still had a lot more manual, backbreaking labor to do. His next task was to prune his aunt's rose bushes. He went to where the pruning shears normally were and noticed that they weren't there. Surely he had brought them down from his hiding place? Yet they weren't here.
"Damn." Harry said out aloud as panic began to fill him.
He wasn't allowed in the house unless all of his work was finished, but there was no way that he could finish his work without the pruning shears. Harry sighed, there was nothing else he could do except sneak inside, get the shears and sneak back out before anybody saw him. He snorted in anger, because this was much easier said than done. As it was he was limping from his bruising and injuries inflicted by Vernon, now he had to move about quickly and silently. There was however one reprieve, and that was the fact that his oversized cousin, Dudley, was out doing more 'charity' work. That would at least make his difficult task a little easier.
Harry knew that if Dudley were there that he would just love to get Harry into trouble. Harry knew that while Vernon beat the living hell out of him Dudley would look on with envy, a lust in his eyes that told Harry he would just love to give him a beating as well. Harry would've carried on this train of thought, but he wanted to get his task over with as soon as possible.
Walking, actually, limping towards the back door, which led into the kitchen, Harry listened at the window. He heard nothing, no clink of cutlery or dishes. That must mean that his aunt Petunia wasn't in the kitchen. Harry cautiously entered the kitchen and listened at the inner door, still no sound. He breathed a sigh of relief, so far things were going well for him, a rare occurrence he felt.
He opened the door and winced as the door creaked as it opened. Yet he held it where it was and was again relieved that nobody had come. Harry looked up at the stairs and saw that once more the coast appeared clear. He slowly and painfully limped up the stairs and got to the top out of breath. Harry couldn't explain it but he had been feeling very weak as of late, just climbing the stairs left him near out of breath.
Taking two deep breaths Harry went to his room and heard a noise, which instantly made him freeze. After a few moments he heard another sound and looked around him. He was still alone yet every now and again the sound would pop up again. Harry moved towards his room and heard the sound, louder this time. He heard a grunt from the Dursely's main bedroom and grimaced. He didn't want to know what was going on.
Going into his room he got down to get the shears. Once in hand he tried to stand up and suddenly a spasm of pain shot through his tired back. He moaned in pain and was stuck in the uncomfortable position he was in as he tried to stand up. The pain was excruciating yet the spasm was in full swing rendering him immobile. He moaned again and clasped his free hand over his mouth.
The noises from the other room ceased and Harry knew that he was in trouble. He forced himself to stand right up, forcing the breaking of the spasm, incurring a ton of pain. He limped quickly from his room, shears in hand and reached the bottom of the stairs as he heard the click of a door upstairs. He was in the kitchen quickly and stumbled falling face first into a kitchen chair. A warm fluid started running from his nose and Harry knew exactly what it was. It was blood and he had just further hurt his already battered nose. His nose was of course injured because of Vernon. But he had to get up and get out of the kitchen.
He could hear the creaking of the stairs as the heavy weight of Vernon Dursley came down the stair. Harry was on his feet, holding his oversized clothing over his nose and was out as fast as he could go. He went straight for the rose bushes and fumbled with the pruning shears. He knew that if Vernon stuck his fat head out of the doorway and didn't see him busy that he would be in for yet another beating.
Harry started to prune the roses as best as he could with his shaking hands and noticed that his hands were wet and sticky. Harry saw that somehow he had re-opened the cut he had gotten from the pruning shears about a week ago. Harry was so tempted to relieve some of his stress. Yet he knew that Vernon would soon be peering out of the kitchen doorway seeing if Harry was loafing or goofing off. Harry resumed his pruning of the roses, and sure enough not a minute later when he heard a voice that he hated with all of his heart.
"BOY! HAVE YOU BEEN INSIDE?!" roared Vernon Dursely.
"No." Harry said flatly carrying on with his work.
"DON'T YOU TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME! MAYBE I SHOULD COME AND TEACH YOU SOME RESPECT!" Vernon roared again going purple in the face.
"DEAR! I'M WAITING!" came the screeching voice of his aunt from upstairs.
His uncle waved a finger in warning at Harry and then disappeared back inside. Harry wished he could have just taken hold of Vernon's fat finger and broken it. Suddenly Harry felt very weak and dropped to his knees. The pruning shears fell next to him and Harry was staring at the ground feeling very dizzy. He felt the blood begin to drip from his nose again and watched as each drop fell to the ground and make rivulets in the sand around the rose bushes.
His scar burned and pained immensely and Harry felt like he was going to be sick. After a few moments and some deep breaths Harry felt a little better, but totally drained. He couldn't explain what had just happened. Sure his scar had hurt before, but it had never left him in such a drained state. He shrugged it off, he was sure that his beatings must be finally getting to him.
Forcing himself to get up Harry took the pruning shears in his bloodied hands and started to prune them to the best of his ability. In his current state this proved to be a very difficult task because his vision was blurred and at times he saw two pairs of pruning shears in front of him as he tried to trim two roses when he had started out only trimming one.
~@~
Night fell and Harry was finally finished. He was so tired, exhaustion didn't grasp just how tired he was. His legs felt like they were made out of jelly and he could hardly see straight. He was feeling weak, but he wouldn't show any sign of weakness in front of Vernon. To show weakness would be to give some satisfaction to that overgrown hippopotamus.
Harry stood shivering outside the kitchen door. Though the night air was warm he felt cold. He felt so dizzy that he almost collapsed, but he knew that he shouldn't do that. He wasn't going to give Vernon the satisfaction.
"BOY!" Came the thunderous roar of Vernon from inside, indicating that Harry could now come inside.
"Speak of the devil." Harry muttered and half limped, half staggered into the house.
Soon Harry stood before Vernon who was glaring at him. Harry so badly wanted to just collapse and let sleep overwhelm him, yet the pinnacle of his hatred stood before him. He wasn't going to fall.
"Took your time doing your chores didn't it?" Vernon said his voice dripping with malice.
Harry glared at Vernon, he hadn't even eaten since his watery soup that morning, he had worked non-stop right through the day. The blisters on his hands along with the cuts were also bleeding slightly. These were evidence of the hard work he had done, yet he was being accused by Vernon that he was taking his time.
"Oh ho! By that look on your face I see you disagree with me!" Vernon said rubbing his hands with a look of sick delight on his face.
Harry swallowed, he realized what was coming next. He didn't want to be beaten, not now, not when he felt so weak. But, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, Harry readied himself for what was to come.
"Ah, so I see you know what is going to happen. Yes, well your insolence will not be tolerated and you will have to be taught a, hmm, lesson, yes a lesson." Vernon said nodding his head and chuckling evilly.
"Now get up to your room, I'll be along shortly." Vernon said and returned to finish watching his television program.
Harry groped his way down the stairs cursing Vernon every step of the way. With every pain that shot through his body he cursed Vernon. Finally reaching the top of the stairs Harry then went into his room.
~@~
Not long after Harry had entered his room he could soon hear the creaking of the stairs as Vernon made his way to Harry's room. Harry sighed and prepared himself for the worst. Suddenly the door to his room slammed open and in the doorway stood the grotesque form of Vernon Dursely.
"Ready for your punishment boy?" Vernon said smiling, a smile that sent a shudder down Harry's body.
Vernon approached Harry with startling speed for a man of his size and seized Harry by the collar. He lifted Harry a few inches off of the ground and started to shake him. Harry didn't understand why Vernon was doing this because he was only becoming more disconcerted than he had been feeling a few moments before. However Harry only realized to late that Vernon had him out of his room and near the stairs.
"I heard you enjoyed flying in your freakish world boy! Here's your chance!" Vernon yelled and threw Harry with all his might over the stairs.
Harry sailed through the air and landed with a sickening thud about two thirds of the way down. A resounding crack echoed after he landed and he tumbled down the rest of the stairs. Harry felt a world of pain shoot through his right arm and saw that his arm was twisted at a horrible angle. The pain seemed to stand out more than the rest that was coursing through his body. His world started spinning and he felt like he was floating in the air.
Harry discovered that he was in the air, suspended once more by his collar in the ham-like hands of Vernon. Vernon carried Harry all the way back to his room before dumping him on the floor. Harry tried his best to focus but the room kept on spinning.
"Now begins the real fun!" Vernon cackled maliciously.
Harry turned on his side and saw Vernon working with his belt buckle. Soon the belt was removed and Harry gasped. Vernon wouldn't! He couldn't! Could he? Vernon advanced on him and Harry found that he was shivering.
"Take this you insolent brat!" Vernon roared and hit Harry across the face with his belt.
Words could not describe the feelings that were going through Harry at this moment. The pain from the lashing of the belt was excruciating, but the relief that he wasn't going to be raped by Vernon was unbelievable.
~@~
The beating carried on for hours and finished in the early hours of the morning. Vernon finally stopped when he realized that he needed to sleep before going to work. Harry was a bloodied mess. He lay in a pool of his own blood, physically beaten, nearly destroyed, yet his mind was functioning fully. Many thoughts were going through his head. Harry found himself wondering about the wizarding world. He found himself thinking about what people might be thinking of him.
"If only they could see the great Harry Potter now. It would give the Daily Prophet something to write on. 'Harry Potter Beaten to Death by Deranged Uncle,' would be the headlines of the story." Harry muttered as blood dripped from his torn mouth.
Images of his friends went through his head. Images of Hermione and Ron went through his mind. He felt himself becoming angry at these images, angry because the people they belonged to had abandoned him. Not one had written to him, neither seemed to give a damn about him. What would they say if he died? Killed by his muggle uncle. That bastard Vernon Dursley.
Thoughts of death filtered through his mind. He thought how easy it would have been to just give up. He knew that it would make Petunia and Vernon Dursley the happiest people on earth. Next to Draco Malfoy that is. Yet Harry found himself smiling. He knew that he wasn't going to let himself die. Oh no, he would not give anybody the satisfaction of that happening. He would suffer as much as could be possible before giving in.
Then there was the matter of his so-called friends. He wanted to give them a piece of his mind. Last year they had told him they couldn't tell him much or keep much contact because they were instructed to do so by Albus Dumbledore. Harry seriously doubted if this was the case this time however. As these thoughts were going through his mind he suddenly found himself thinking about Cho.
Cho Chang, the seeker of the Ravenclaw and a girl he found himself fancying. Well, he didn't know much anymore. All she seemed interested in was speaking about Cedric Diggory. Every time they seemed to get close she would bring up the topic of Cedric and him being dead. Harry just couldn't win. It appeared as though Cho wanted to be with him, yet when she was she would only want to speak about Cedric. He just couldn't compete with a man that was dead. He didn't blame Cedric, but he just wished that Cho would move on.
"Maybe if I died she would speak about me." Harry muttered wondering on this thought.
Though he found himself chuckling to himself. He knew that even if he were dead he would never get the attention from Cho that she gave Cedric. She had always liked Cedric more and Cedric was an impressive person. Harry was her second choice at best he reasoned. Harry gave up on the subject and decided that he wanted to relieve some of his pain and frustration.
Crawling to the loose floorboards he finally opened them and felt around looking for the pruning shears and their sharp blades. Harry was shocked to find that he could not feel anything. Then it hit him, he had left them outside. That was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do. Not only could he not relieve his pain and frustration, but now Vernon could find another reason to beat him senseless. He'll come up with some excuse about them rusting or something like that.
Harry sat up and winced as his broken arm flopped to his side and hung limply. Harry shook his head and wondered if things could possibly get any worse.
"I wish you were here Sirius." Harry said as his eyes began to fill with tears.
~@~
That's it, nothing much. Please read and review and look for the next chapter from Twisted Silver Dagger. It should be great.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. is owned and trademarks of Warner Bros. and JK Rowling. The plot however is owned by the writers. Mostly Twisted Silver Dagger though.
~@~
The sun shone brightly and warmed everything that it's rays touched. It was late afternoon and most were enjoying the sun. Some people sat on lawn chairs reading the newspaper, some snoozed while others were sunbathing. The sun was an object of oppression to one person however. Harry was the unfortunate person that was feeling the wrath of the blazing sun. He had been working in the garden for well over seven hours now and he was still nowhere near finishing his work. At the moment he was mowing the lawn while he could feel his skin burning from the sun.
He limped as he pushed the lawn mower along. The beatings from the man he now only called Vernon had taken their toll. He shuddered a little at the thought of his beating he got after his aunt had found the blood from his cuts on his bed sheets. It seemed to him that she couldn't wait to tell her husband. It was then that Harry found that the pruning shears would become his best friend. It never let him down, it was always there for him, not like the people he had thought were his friends at Hogwarts.
He gave a small snort as he carried on pushing the mower at the thought Hermione and Ron. Neither had bothered to contact him, to find out how he was or even wish him a happy birthday. Did they not care about the abuse he was receiving? Did they not care if he was all right or not?
"Did they ever care?" Harry said softly to himself.
After another twenty minutes of tiring work Harry was finished with the task of mowing the lawn. Harry hated mowing the lawn, but Vernon insisted that because of the drought that the grass had to be kept trim. Vernon reasoned that by doing this the grass wouldn't need much water. It did however give Vernon the chance to give Harry more work to do. He insisted that Harry mow the lawn every day to keep the lawn in its short condition, or else. Harry always knew what the or else would be, another beating.
Harry pushed the lawn mower and out it away. The sun was high in the sky and it was now entering late afternoon. He still had a lot more manual, backbreaking labor to do. His next task was to prune his aunt's rose bushes. He went to where the pruning shears normally were and noticed that they weren't there. Surely he had brought them down from his hiding place? Yet they weren't here.
"Damn." Harry said out aloud as panic began to fill him.
He wasn't allowed in the house unless all of his work was finished, but there was no way that he could finish his work without the pruning shears. Harry sighed, there was nothing else he could do except sneak inside, get the shears and sneak back out before anybody saw him. He snorted in anger, because this was much easier said than done. As it was he was limping from his bruising and injuries inflicted by Vernon, now he had to move about quickly and silently. There was however one reprieve, and that was the fact that his oversized cousin, Dudley, was out doing more 'charity' work. That would at least make his difficult task a little easier.
Harry knew that if Dudley were there that he would just love to get Harry into trouble. Harry knew that while Vernon beat the living hell out of him Dudley would look on with envy, a lust in his eyes that told Harry he would just love to give him a beating as well. Harry would've carried on this train of thought, but he wanted to get his task over with as soon as possible.
Walking, actually, limping towards the back door, which led into the kitchen, Harry listened at the window. He heard nothing, no clink of cutlery or dishes. That must mean that his aunt Petunia wasn't in the kitchen. Harry cautiously entered the kitchen and listened at the inner door, still no sound. He breathed a sigh of relief, so far things were going well for him, a rare occurrence he felt.
He opened the door and winced as the door creaked as it opened. Yet he held it where it was and was again relieved that nobody had come. Harry looked up at the stairs and saw that once more the coast appeared clear. He slowly and painfully limped up the stairs and got to the top out of breath. Harry couldn't explain it but he had been feeling very weak as of late, just climbing the stairs left him near out of breath.
Taking two deep breaths Harry went to his room and heard a noise, which instantly made him freeze. After a few moments he heard another sound and looked around him. He was still alone yet every now and again the sound would pop up again. Harry moved towards his room and heard the sound, louder this time. He heard a grunt from the Dursely's main bedroom and grimaced. He didn't want to know what was going on.
Going into his room he got down to get the shears. Once in hand he tried to stand up and suddenly a spasm of pain shot through his tired back. He moaned in pain and was stuck in the uncomfortable position he was in as he tried to stand up. The pain was excruciating yet the spasm was in full swing rendering him immobile. He moaned again and clasped his free hand over his mouth.
The noises from the other room ceased and Harry knew that he was in trouble. He forced himself to stand right up, forcing the breaking of the spasm, incurring a ton of pain. He limped quickly from his room, shears in hand and reached the bottom of the stairs as he heard the click of a door upstairs. He was in the kitchen quickly and stumbled falling face first into a kitchen chair. A warm fluid started running from his nose and Harry knew exactly what it was. It was blood and he had just further hurt his already battered nose. His nose was of course injured because of Vernon. But he had to get up and get out of the kitchen.
He could hear the creaking of the stairs as the heavy weight of Vernon Dursley came down the stair. Harry was on his feet, holding his oversized clothing over his nose and was out as fast as he could go. He went straight for the rose bushes and fumbled with the pruning shears. He knew that if Vernon stuck his fat head out of the doorway and didn't see him busy that he would be in for yet another beating.
Harry started to prune the roses as best as he could with his shaking hands and noticed that his hands were wet and sticky. Harry saw that somehow he had re-opened the cut he had gotten from the pruning shears about a week ago. Harry was so tempted to relieve some of his stress. Yet he knew that Vernon would soon be peering out of the kitchen doorway seeing if Harry was loafing or goofing off. Harry resumed his pruning of the roses, and sure enough not a minute later when he heard a voice that he hated with all of his heart.
"BOY! HAVE YOU BEEN INSIDE?!" roared Vernon Dursely.
"No." Harry said flatly carrying on with his work.
"DON'T YOU TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME! MAYBE I SHOULD COME AND TEACH YOU SOME RESPECT!" Vernon roared again going purple in the face.
"DEAR! I'M WAITING!" came the screeching voice of his aunt from upstairs.
His uncle waved a finger in warning at Harry and then disappeared back inside. Harry wished he could have just taken hold of Vernon's fat finger and broken it. Suddenly Harry felt very weak and dropped to his knees. The pruning shears fell next to him and Harry was staring at the ground feeling very dizzy. He felt the blood begin to drip from his nose again and watched as each drop fell to the ground and make rivulets in the sand around the rose bushes.
His scar burned and pained immensely and Harry felt like he was going to be sick. After a few moments and some deep breaths Harry felt a little better, but totally drained. He couldn't explain what had just happened. Sure his scar had hurt before, but it had never left him in such a drained state. He shrugged it off, he was sure that his beatings must be finally getting to him.
Forcing himself to get up Harry took the pruning shears in his bloodied hands and started to prune them to the best of his ability. In his current state this proved to be a very difficult task because his vision was blurred and at times he saw two pairs of pruning shears in front of him as he tried to trim two roses when he had started out only trimming one.
~@~
Night fell and Harry was finally finished. He was so tired, exhaustion didn't grasp just how tired he was. His legs felt like they were made out of jelly and he could hardly see straight. He was feeling weak, but he wouldn't show any sign of weakness in front of Vernon. To show weakness would be to give some satisfaction to that overgrown hippopotamus.
Harry stood shivering outside the kitchen door. Though the night air was warm he felt cold. He felt so dizzy that he almost collapsed, but he knew that he shouldn't do that. He wasn't going to give Vernon the satisfaction.
"BOY!" Came the thunderous roar of Vernon from inside, indicating that Harry could now come inside.
"Speak of the devil." Harry muttered and half limped, half staggered into the house.
Soon Harry stood before Vernon who was glaring at him. Harry so badly wanted to just collapse and let sleep overwhelm him, yet the pinnacle of his hatred stood before him. He wasn't going to fall.
"Took your time doing your chores didn't it?" Vernon said his voice dripping with malice.
Harry glared at Vernon, he hadn't even eaten since his watery soup that morning, he had worked non-stop right through the day. The blisters on his hands along with the cuts were also bleeding slightly. These were evidence of the hard work he had done, yet he was being accused by Vernon that he was taking his time.
"Oh ho! By that look on your face I see you disagree with me!" Vernon said rubbing his hands with a look of sick delight on his face.
Harry swallowed, he realized what was coming next. He didn't want to be beaten, not now, not when he felt so weak. But, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, Harry readied himself for what was to come.
"Ah, so I see you know what is going to happen. Yes, well your insolence will not be tolerated and you will have to be taught a, hmm, lesson, yes a lesson." Vernon said nodding his head and chuckling evilly.
"Now get up to your room, I'll be along shortly." Vernon said and returned to finish watching his television program.
Harry groped his way down the stairs cursing Vernon every step of the way. With every pain that shot through his body he cursed Vernon. Finally reaching the top of the stairs Harry then went into his room.
~@~
Not long after Harry had entered his room he could soon hear the creaking of the stairs as Vernon made his way to Harry's room. Harry sighed and prepared himself for the worst. Suddenly the door to his room slammed open and in the doorway stood the grotesque form of Vernon Dursely.
"Ready for your punishment boy?" Vernon said smiling, a smile that sent a shudder down Harry's body.
Vernon approached Harry with startling speed for a man of his size and seized Harry by the collar. He lifted Harry a few inches off of the ground and started to shake him. Harry didn't understand why Vernon was doing this because he was only becoming more disconcerted than he had been feeling a few moments before. However Harry only realized to late that Vernon had him out of his room and near the stairs.
"I heard you enjoyed flying in your freakish world boy! Here's your chance!" Vernon yelled and threw Harry with all his might over the stairs.
Harry sailed through the air and landed with a sickening thud about two thirds of the way down. A resounding crack echoed after he landed and he tumbled down the rest of the stairs. Harry felt a world of pain shoot through his right arm and saw that his arm was twisted at a horrible angle. The pain seemed to stand out more than the rest that was coursing through his body. His world started spinning and he felt like he was floating in the air.
Harry discovered that he was in the air, suspended once more by his collar in the ham-like hands of Vernon. Vernon carried Harry all the way back to his room before dumping him on the floor. Harry tried his best to focus but the room kept on spinning.
"Now begins the real fun!" Vernon cackled maliciously.
Harry turned on his side and saw Vernon working with his belt buckle. Soon the belt was removed and Harry gasped. Vernon wouldn't! He couldn't! Could he? Vernon advanced on him and Harry found that he was shivering.
"Take this you insolent brat!" Vernon roared and hit Harry across the face with his belt.
Words could not describe the feelings that were going through Harry at this moment. The pain from the lashing of the belt was excruciating, but the relief that he wasn't going to be raped by Vernon was unbelievable.
~@~
The beating carried on for hours and finished in the early hours of the morning. Vernon finally stopped when he realized that he needed to sleep before going to work. Harry was a bloodied mess. He lay in a pool of his own blood, physically beaten, nearly destroyed, yet his mind was functioning fully. Many thoughts were going through his head. Harry found himself wondering about the wizarding world. He found himself thinking about what people might be thinking of him.
"If only they could see the great Harry Potter now. It would give the Daily Prophet something to write on. 'Harry Potter Beaten to Death by Deranged Uncle,' would be the headlines of the story." Harry muttered as blood dripped from his torn mouth.
Images of his friends went through his head. Images of Hermione and Ron went through his mind. He felt himself becoming angry at these images, angry because the people they belonged to had abandoned him. Not one had written to him, neither seemed to give a damn about him. What would they say if he died? Killed by his muggle uncle. That bastard Vernon Dursley.
Thoughts of death filtered through his mind. He thought how easy it would have been to just give up. He knew that it would make Petunia and Vernon Dursley the happiest people on earth. Next to Draco Malfoy that is. Yet Harry found himself smiling. He knew that he wasn't going to let himself die. Oh no, he would not give anybody the satisfaction of that happening. He would suffer as much as could be possible before giving in.
Then there was the matter of his so-called friends. He wanted to give them a piece of his mind. Last year they had told him they couldn't tell him much or keep much contact because they were instructed to do so by Albus Dumbledore. Harry seriously doubted if this was the case this time however. As these thoughts were going through his mind he suddenly found himself thinking about Cho.
Cho Chang, the seeker of the Ravenclaw and a girl he found himself fancying. Well, he didn't know much anymore. All she seemed interested in was speaking about Cedric Diggory. Every time they seemed to get close she would bring up the topic of Cedric and him being dead. Harry just couldn't win. It appeared as though Cho wanted to be with him, yet when she was she would only want to speak about Cedric. He just couldn't compete with a man that was dead. He didn't blame Cedric, but he just wished that Cho would move on.
"Maybe if I died she would speak about me." Harry muttered wondering on this thought.
Though he found himself chuckling to himself. He knew that even if he were dead he would never get the attention from Cho that she gave Cedric. She had always liked Cedric more and Cedric was an impressive person. Harry was her second choice at best he reasoned. Harry gave up on the subject and decided that he wanted to relieve some of his pain and frustration.
Crawling to the loose floorboards he finally opened them and felt around looking for the pruning shears and their sharp blades. Harry was shocked to find that he could not feel anything. Then it hit him, he had left them outside. That was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do. Not only could he not relieve his pain and frustration, but now Vernon could find another reason to beat him senseless. He'll come up with some excuse about them rusting or something like that.
Harry sat up and winced as his broken arm flopped to his side and hung limply. Harry shook his head and wondered if things could possibly get any worse.
"I wish you were here Sirius." Harry said as his eyes began to fill with tears.
~@~
That's it, nothing much. Please read and review and look for the next chapter from Twisted Silver Dagger. It should be great.