Young and Helpless
Chapter TwoIt was now mid-December. Harry sat, huddled at a dark corner of his cupboard, shaking with fear. His hand absent-mindedly traced the scar of the cut at his wrist. He could feel his heart racing, at his throat. Large bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. And then he heard it. Loud thundering footsteps, and a loud heaving breath.
"BOY!" Uncle Vernon's voice rang out. The footsteps stopped at Harry's door, and the locks began to jingle, as Vernon unlocked the cupboard.
Harry felt a large hand grab him by the cuff of his shirt, and drag him out of his hiding place.
"I-I d-d-didn't do it-t." He whimpered softly, but he knew it wouldn't help.
"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT SNEAKING AROUND FOR FOOD. YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BASTARD! I'M GOING TO BEAT THE LIVING DAYLIGHT OUT OF YOU!" His uncle roared in his face.
"P-please don't." He pleaded, as he covered his face preparing himself for the blow, and it came. Hard.
"DON'T-." Smack. "YOU-." Smack "EVER-." Smack. "LEARN?" Smack. Smack.
"P-please st-t-top." Harry sobbed, as he curled into a ball.
He watched his uncle un-buckle his belt, and pull on it, before bringing it over his head.
"Give me one good reason. And I swear you won't live to see tomorrow." Vernon said, calmly and evilly.
"Unc-cle Vernon. It wasn't-t me. I swear. It was D-dudley and I-." Harry murmured, as he quivered on the floor.
THRASH! THRASH!
"DON'T YOU EVER BLAME MY SON FOR YOUR WRONGDOING!" Vernon's voice boomed, and Harry felt a pair of hands pick him up, and thrust him into his cupboard, before he heard the certain click of the lock.
Tears slipped down his pale cheeks, as he tried desperately not to scream out in pain. He shoulder stung where the belt had managed to catch him, and he could feel something running down his shoulder. A chocked sob escaped him, as he cradled himself, feeling a sticky gooey substance on his stomach. He looked down at his stomach, with fearful eyes.
"No." He managed to gasp out, as he saw the large gash across his chest.
He wrapped his arms around his chest, and brought his knees up, before beginning to rock back and forth, trying to comfort himself. His tears stung at his eyes, and flowed down his face and neck, before being absorbed by his baggy shirt.
He let his head loll to one side, watching the stars dance in front of his eyes. He grabbed his large black sweater, and put it on slowly, trying to cover up his uncle's abuse. He moaned.
"BOY, DON'T YOU MAKE ANY NOISE!" He heard his aunt's shriek from the Kitchen. He moaned again.
"THAT'S IT-." His aunt screeched, and she unlocked his cupboard, and pointed at the door.
"Get out. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! And don't come back until dinner time." She said with narrowed eyes. Harry hiccoughed, but knew if he protested, tonight may very well be, his last.
Slowly, he scuttled out of the cupboard, one arm still wrapped around his chest, while the other, reached for his coat.
"Don't do anything funny." Petunia warned, before turning back to the Kitchen, humming happily to herself.
With a tiny hand, Harry opened the door, and stepped outside. He shivered. It was snowing.
He began to walk mindlessly around, watching the snow flakes flutter down. A few fell on top of his nose, and he shivered again.
He looked down at his watch. 7:47, it read, with fading black digits. Dinner was at nine.
He removed his hand from his chest, and was relieved when he realized the bleeding had stopped. It hadn't been too bad. The metal part of the belt, had only managed to cut through his skin, leaving a long, but shallow cut across his stomach. As for his shoulder. It can't be too bad, he thought. But he was six, and he didn't know how to help himself.
Half an hour later, and he found himself far away from the Dursley's home. He knew where he was. Sort of. He glanced up and read the street sign out loud.
"Ch-ch-church Hill." His teeth chattered. He hoped he wouldn't get a cold. Slowly, he made his way down the road.
Two figures were out, shoveling snow. One was to his left, and closer than the other to his right. He walked past the first house, watching with his small green eyes, as two children came rushing out.
"Daddy! Daddy! Can we play in the snow?" The children chorused.
"Not now. It's dark, but maybe tomorrow morning. I'll shovel all the snow into one big pile for you, okay?" The man spoke.
"Okay!" The children said in unison.
Harry's eyes filled with tears, and he turned his head away. I want a family. I want a home. I want my mommy and daddy. He thought, as he hugged himself, trying to stop himself from shaking.
He approached the house of the other figure. This figure was alone, shoveling the snow to the side, while adjusting his black toque. Harry shivered again, and looked away, instead looking at his feet.
"Hey. What's wrong little one?" He heard the man coo from his driveway. The man let his shovel clatter to the side, and instead made his way to Harry.
"N-nothing. I'm going for a walk." Harry murmured, as the man crouched down in front of him.
"Harry?" The man asked, with a shaky voice. Harry's wide eyes shot up, to meet with the man's own.
"Y-you're M-m-moony." Harry said, as his teeth chattered.
"What are you doing here?" Moony asked.
"Nothing. Nothing. Just going for a walk. I was bored." Harry answered, letting his gaze drop to the floor.
"Come in, I'll make you some hot chocolate." Moony said reaching out to take Harry's hand.
Harry flinched and backed away.
"I can walk by myself. Thanks." Harry mumbled, lowering his gaze to his feet.
"Alright." Moony responded, although, his eyebrow rose in concern.
Harry watched his feet shuffle in the snow as the two made their way in.
"Marshmallows?" Moony asked, placing a small handful of mini marshmallows in one of the steaming cups of Hot chocolate.
Harry nodded silently, fidgeting with his sleeves.
Moony took a handful of Marshmallows and dropped them into the second cup before handing it to Harry.
"Drink Up. It'll warm you right up." Moony said, as he scuttled about, round the Kitchen.
"Thank You Moony." Harry said lightly, looking up with a half smile.
" You don't have to thank me. I needed some warming up too. Shoveling the snow." Moony responded, and then added in a low voice. "Damn snow. Blocking off every damn main intersection. Cornering me at that freaking crash site."
Harry sipped at his Hot Chocolate, thankful enough that it had been his painting friend Moony, and not someone else. Yet, he still tugged nervously at his shirt, afraid of what the man would do.
I can't trust him. He's probably doing this to have my trust. Then he'll hurt me too. Harry shuddered, trying hard not to whimper.
"I'll go get the chocolate chip cookies from the oven. Stay right here." Moony interrupted his thoughts. Carefully, the boy nodded, placing his mug carefully on the table, making sure he wouldn't break it.
After a minute or two, Moony came back, holding a platter of cookies, and smiling fondly at the little figure sitting at his table. Unfortunately, Harry didn't notice him.
Moony approached him, and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. What followed wasn't exactly what he thought would happen.
Harry flinched away, heart hammering at his chest, when he felt a hand grab at his shoulder. He scrambled out of his seat, knocking down his mug in the process, and ran across the dining room, huddled at a corner. He heard the sound of his mug shattering, echo through the house.
"Don't hurt me! I didn't mean it. It was an accident. Please!" Harry begged, as he covered his face.
"Harry?" Moony whispered, placing the platter of cookies down, shock and concern engraving themselves upon his young face.
Harry scrambled up, with a loud gasp, and ran to the door. He could hear his heart hammering, as his breathing became harsh. He thrust the door open, and ran out. He was going to hurt me! He thought, as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him away from the house. He turned back quickly to see it the man would run after him, but only saw him standing at his Porch, watching Harry run away, with his hand held out. If only Harry had seen what Moony was looking at, as the pair of hazelnut eyes stared down at his hand, which was now stained with patches of Harry's blood…
A/N: Thanks For the Reviews! (Edited Version)