Chp.2 Makin Life Work
It was morning the next day and Harry had just back in from his run, having gone not as far as yesterday due to fucking sore muscles. He had slept well (aunt Petunia gave him an "Advil" after he was done eating and it kinda knocked him out) and he seriously doubted it was an innocent drug, never mind Advil. More like a sleeping pill advertised in the child care magazine for crazy peoples united; maybe a label advertisement such as "Guaranteed to sleep for up to 12 hours!" They left him to do whatever he wanted, which was actually a negative thing as it left him with nothing to distract himself and therefore too much time for thinking and self pity. He had yet to ask the order for study books or something otherwise productive.
The next few days went pretty hard for him. He was depressed, Sirius was dead and he still had to move on. Which is a very hard thing in itself, but in this house being where all he could keep thinking was "I could have hid a big black dog in my room." He stepped up exercise as it kept his mind off everything and stayed away from the Dursley's as much as possible. As a last resort Harry sorted through his school books from all the way back to his first year and marveling at the fact that he hadn't thrown them out or given them to Ginny made a list of charms, hexes and such he could practice when he went back to school. He reread all of his history books finding that they weren't actually boring; Professor Binns just made them that way. He found that they weren't helpful with advice on how to defeat all powerful dark wizards, but still interesting. Unlike previous years he didn't eat in his room all the time. He liked sitting on the top of the stairs and they served him good portions. He seriously doubted he would be hungry at all if not for the running.
Two weeks later his aunt finally declared that his eye was back to normal and he went on his very first trip to the mall to buy something for himself. His aunt didn't actually take him shopping; more like gave him money and shooed him into a store. Not that he was complaining. Like he would want to wear anything his aunt thought was acceptable anyway. In the end he got some casual clothes and work out clothes and he didn't have to pay a cent. Last thing aunt Petunia had lost his prescription and so he had to get tested again. He hadn't gotten checked in years and discovered to his chagrin that his eye sight had of course worsened. And that was saying something. The dude that checked his eyes asked him with a smile on his face if he would like a walking stick so as not to bump into the walls while he waited for his contacts to come in.
He was currently sitting on the living room couch trying to watch TV. Yes trying. For one thing, everything on it was either a big fuzzy blob or a small one and for another in his life he never just sat down and watched the thing and now he was having a problem trying to figure out how it entertained people; all he could watch was the news. It wasn't even that informing. But hell, he was going to make an attempt anyways; anything to distract him from thinking of Sirius. He changed the channel and found himself staring at the screen. It was a trial and some well dressed man was being charged with murdering his wife and was pleading guilty. Now there is someone who doesn't deserve a trial! What a waste of the juries' time. Sirius should have – his train of thought being cut of by Dudley who entered the room.
"What's the matter Potter? That man one of your freaky friends? I'll bet you make friends with murderers all the time, though why they would want to be your friend is beyond me."
Harry stood shaking slightly. His words were to close to the mark and his lack of grieving (crying) was leaving him just itching for someone to take it out on. "Yes, I understand Dudley, a lot is beyond you." Harry retorted his voice as smooth and cold as ice.
Although Dudley's words had stopped Harry from having a break down in front of the TV, he had probably just made Harry choose a more violent and average teenage rebellion outlet. Before Dudley could get more than a confused look on his face Harry's fist had connected hard with it sending Dudley to his knees and causing pain to shoot through Harry's hand. Standing, fists raised and a determined expression to match he braced himself for a return attack. Dudley stood furiously glaring at Harry. His nose was bleeding and veins were popping out of his head and he was turning a strange purple colour making him appear very much like Uncle Vernon, unreasonable and dangerous. He suddenly felt it was his turn to meet a fist or flee from the room. And he couldn't say he was much wrong.
Dudley made a great roar of fury and charged fists flying at him. Although Harry hadn't been in Quidditch for a while his reflexes kicked in and next second he could be found pulling out of Dudley's way in a summersault and was on his feet again. Dudley was charging again (looking ridiculously like a rhinoceros) and Harry wondered if the Order would interfere. Surely Sirius would. Sirius…With this desperate thought Dudley was fired away from Harry with the force of a wrecking ball back first straight through the bay window. Accidental magic is useful! Who knew! Sagging with relief he let his knees fall weakly to the floor, which was actually, quite a stupid thing to do. "Rug burn" he vaguely found himself thinking. Crack! Harry gasped at the sudden additional pain and promptly bit his lip holding down the urge to rant off an example of his "colourful" vocabulary, as something very large had just stepped on his ankle. Uncle Vernon? Finally sitting down he held his ankle examining the damage which actually made him look like a 2 year old sucking on his foot. Aunt Petunia raced past his form on the floor straight through what used to be the window to aid their "Diddykins"
"Wow that must have hurt. I hope I broke damn Duddy Diddykins nose at least." About then one Nymphadora Tonks raced into the room, and though he couldn't see her Harry knew who it was as she promptly forgot to walk around him and instead nearly ran right over him; nearly because she in fact tripped over him, which in all honesty really hurt.
Being knocked over wouldn't have actually hurt all that much, but it was then that he realized that his adrenaline or whatever it was wearing off and consequently, landing on ones hurt ankle might hurt a bit more than normal. It felt, like the time the bludger had broke his arm, only a lot worse. So he screamed loud with his voice cracking. It did accomplish one thing, Tonks got off him. Thankfully she didn't land on his ankle. Still howling he didn't notice Tonks pick up her fallen wand and point it at him. "Silencio" she yelled over his voice. Abruptly he lost his voice and couldn't release his pain. Biting his lip he glared at her for a moment before looking at his ankle again. Yup, it was broken; the left ankle; just perfect. Deducing that his uncle hadn't actually followed the diet either and that he wasn't going to be walking on it he looked up at Tonks again for assistance only to find that she wasn't there. They couldn't drop him after they knew he was alive! The Dursley's wouldn't take him to the hospital for it themselves, not to mention what uncle Vernon would do to him for his use of magic. With these thoughts running through his head and fear making his heart rate jump and his breath quicken Harry turned looking frantically about the room. Not being able to call for help was one thing, but now he couldn't use magic, despite the fact that his wand was upstairs in his room.
Upon hearing his uncle yell in fright he found Tonks. Raising his head as high as he could without moving his foot Harry he could just see a fuzzy blue ball with blurry pink thing on top next to a darker blue and black blob, which was making a lot of noise, clearly not dead. More than a little pissed off at her concern for Dudley and not him as was her job he tried to get upright. Careful to avoid more pain, he got onto his knees, then one foot, and skillfully maneuvered his way to the window using the furniture and the TV which he noted was now showing the murderer being taken in by the police. Avoiding the glass that littered the carpet, he made his was to the now windowless wall and leaned against in for support and stared. "Wow, that's something I thought I'd never see as long as I live" was all his mind could come up with to describe the scene before him. Apparently while he was crossing the room the neighbors came out to see what the ruckus was, whether it was Harry's screaming or the window being broken he didn't know, nor much care. Without his glasses Harry couldn't get a great visual on the scene but there was a great deal of "is he okay?", "what happened?", "shouldn't someone call an ambulance?" And even one "who's that, with the pink hair?" Normally this would have been the time when Harry marched upstairs, got his trunk and left but not wanting to go through another obstacle course, he simply stood watching, still unable to make a sound.
Nobody noticed the boy in the house as he hoped across the room, save one Mad Eye Moody across the street who was due to begin his shift any minute. Recognizing Harry Potter leaning on the window frame he immediately he breathed a sigh of relief, better gimped than thrown out a window. What had happened anyway? They were attacked or it was a trap, he just knew it. Where were the Deatheaters? "Fool Dumbledore, we should have expected something like this to happen." He thought grumpily. What was Potter doing anyway! He should be the smallest possible target; down low to the ground. He was just asking for a hex to fry off his ass. Wasting no more time he quickly (as fast as possible on a wooden leg) made his way across the road onto the perfect lawn till he met the small crowd.
By now Harry had got some sense and was actually hiding from view standing against the inside wall instead of the window. His attitude changed rapidly from satisfaction, to nervousness, to dread. He didn't feel a bit bad about Dudley, but feared what the Dursley's would do about his actions. Dumbledore really couldn't take him from the house yet, and couldn't prevent the Dursley's from harming him, no matter how many threats from the Order. And if the man did try to interfere it would only anger his relatives more. He wasn't looking forward to the time when they would deal out his punishment, no matter how great it was to chuck Dudley out a window.
Hearing sirens, his curiosity overran his fear of being seen and so taking a quick peek round the nonexistent window, he could see how the pandemonium had leveled out. An ambulance had just arrived on the side of the road and was taking control of the situation. "Well that can't be good" he thought vaguely. The Order liked being in charge, and it was up to the ministry to deal with accidental magic. Granted, a hospital could fix Dudley up, but Harry would get in trouble for the bill too.
As he watched, his cousin was put on a stretcher and quickly brought to the ambulance. His aunt (the funny brown coloured blur) hurried into the vehicle too but his uncle identified as the largish tan and blue coloured fuzzy thing got in his car and followed the ambulance as it drove down the road. The lingering neighbors walked out of his sight, presumably to their homes to discuss the incident and gossip. The only people left were Tonks and another Order member he didn't recognize. He turned back against the wall, out of their sight. He knew he should get them to fix his ankle, but quite frankly he just didn't want to see them. It went against his decision to help himself. Ok, that and he STILL couldn't talk (although he felt he could make a small squeak sound if he really wanted to) and didn't particularly want to jump around again and land on the floor, just to get their attention. "Whatever, they can come and get me; when they remember to."
Harry's mood changed drastically when he had this brilliant idea: "They are fully qualified wizards. They can just make the Dursley's forget this whole thing and no danger for me!" A smile would have been on his face if his ankle wasn't still broken. He sat down gingerly with his back still resting against the wall.