A/N: I Own Nothing.
A/N: I want to thank everyone who reviewed, thx so much for the great comments
A/N: I was tired when I posted the first chapter and am too lazy to go back and change a minor error, but Harry will be sixteen and not seventeen, I meant to change it but I just totally forgot until it was already posted, sorry for the confusion if there is any
Vernon Dursley had enough. This was the fourth time that that "Freak" had woken him up during the middle of the night and he had enough. He was furious by the time he made it down the hall to his nephew's bedroom. He slammed the door open with a loud THUD, and went straight up to the boy.
Harry knew he was in more trouble then he had ever been in his life when his uncle came into the room, the expression on his face was not out of anger at being woken up at an ungodly hour, but it was one of pure hatred. He knew that no amount of sorry's would stop his uncle from doing what he was going to do.
"I've had it with you boy. " and with that Vernon sat on Harry's stomach so the boy would not be able to move, then with his big beefy hands he swiped it right across Harry's face.
Harry, however, knew not to flinch or cry out, it was better just to let his Uncle Vernon do what he wanted to do, and that way it would be over sooner.
"I have a very important meeting boy, and I needed my sleep. YOU(Slap). DISTURBED (slap). MY(slap). SLEEP(slap). What do you have to say for yourself boy?"
Harry had never seen his Uncle this way, and he himself was getting very frightened. He did the only thing he could think of, to get his uncle to calm down.
"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon. I didn't mean to."
"You didn't mean to."
"I was asleep, I couldn't help it. I'll be good tomorrow. I promise."
"Promises made by you FREAKS mean NOTHING!" Vernon was yelling, at this point, and spittle was flying everywhere.
Harry knew he had to try a different tactic, because his uncle seemed to be enjoying this way too much.
"Ahh, Uncle Vernon. Not to be rude or disrespectful but tomorrow is day three of when I'm to write to my friends and those people (he knew not to say wizards in front of his uncle, that would have gotten him even angrier) they'll be expecting a letter, and me telling them that I'm all black and blue because you hit me once too many, won't go off with them too well."
"So now you're threatening me boy. Do you think I really took those FREAKS seriously? You are stupider than I thought you were. I know for a fact that you can't leave this house, YOU need to come back here, isn't that right?" He hissed at Harry. "Otherwise it would be sad to say that you would be one dead man. And those people would not jeopardize you're protection, that I know for sure."
At the thought of Harry being a dead man, Vernon smiled from ear to ear, sending shivers down Harry's back.
Harry too bewildered to say anything just sat silently still, stunned, waiting to see what would happen next.
What did occur was something that he was not expecting. Harry felt relief as the large bear sized man had gotten off of him, for one quick shred of hope, he thought he was free, but in the next instant Vernon had grabbed Harry by the scruff of his neck, and dragged him down the hall towards the staircase.
"Let's see you dare threaten me ever again." Vernon said sadistically. And with that he dropped the already too thin boy down the stairs.
Harry felt his body flying through the air. He was paralyzed with fright, and that made him unable to scream. The last thing Harry could remember before he blanked out was a loud CRACK as his head made contact with the floor tiles.
Harry finally came round to consciousness around midday, his head throbbing as if someone had taken a hammer to it and was pounding away for hours at a time.
At first he couldn't remember why his head hurt that much, and then it dawned on him, his uncle had pushed him down the stairs.
"Well that's a new one." Harry had to admit.
Harry opened up his eyes groggily, the monstrous headache, which he had, was forcing him to keep his eyes closed, but eventually he was able to keep them opened.
He looked around his surroundings and groaned. He knew his uncle wouldn't allow him back in Dudley's second bedroom, at least not for the time being, but he never thought he'd be back where he was, the cupboard under the stairs.
He never liked the cupboard; in fact he always despised it. The cupboard always felt like the walls were closing in on him, due to the cramped space and the darkness that engulfed him.
The darkness was the worst part of it, because it blinded him from seeing anything. It was home to many bugs and insects, and they were always crawling around inside.
For some reason the bugs and insects were attracted to Harry, and Harry alone. When he used to inhabit the cupboard every morning Harry would wake to find at least ten of them clinging to his hair.
Harry shuddered in disgust at the many different dead bugs he could be lying on right now, and how many were in his hair. The cupboard hadn't been cleaned for five years, not since Harry moved out, and took residence in Dudley's second bedroom.
"This is what it must've been like for Sirius in Azkaban." Harry thought to himself glumly.
Upon realizing that he just thought about Sirius, dampened any little bit of happiness he may have had within him. All summer Harry tried to push Sirius to the back of his mind, but it always never worked.
Harry missed Sirius soo much, it was like losing his family all over again, and the vision from last night, did not help him any.
"Sirius." Harry moaned out loud, but stopped when he realized that his uncle might hear him again, and didn't feel like dealing with the repercussions, his uncle may give him.
Harry's butt was getting sore and numb from sitting too long, he just wanted to stand and stretch, obviously he had enough common sense to know that the door would be locked, and he would not be able to get out.
He tried to get up from the bed, but it seemed his arms couldn't move.
Harry was quite surprised that he didn't realize any sooner why not. Apparently his uncle had taken the liberty of tying Harry's hands behind the bed.
"It's not like I could even go anywhere, he's got the door bolted shut so tight that not even a storm of Death Eaters could get passed this." Harry said to himself bitterly.
"Great, just great" Harry thought to himself. "Now how am I going to get out of this? If only I had my wand." He laughed, because even if he did have his wand it was not like he could use it since he was not yet of age.
"I wonder what the wizarding world would say if they saw the "Boy Who Lived" like this." He laughed at the expressions he imagined the people would have.
Thoughts like these, as well as one's of Sirius and his parents continued to pass through Harry's head. He didn't know what time it was, or even how late.
Time seemed to be passing slowly, and every minute Harry was alone with his thoughts, he would get more and more aggravated.
He thought of all his belongings packed away, probably in the garage, he was not sure. At least if he had his textbooks and his hands free he would be able to do some homework. That would ease some of the tension that he was feeling.
"Stupid Git." Harry seethed cursing his uncle.
It was his uncle's fault that he didn't have any of his stuff. The minute that they arrived home from Kings Cross Station, Vernon had thrown Harry into his room, and he took all of Harry's belongings, and put it in the garage. The only thing that Harry was able to save was the photo album, the one that Hagrid gave him in his first year.
The ropes were starting to burn his wrists, and the only solution that he could think of was to try and wriggle his hands free, if his uncle didn't tighten the ropes that hard, his hands could slip through, allowing him some freedom in the cupboard.
So Harry deciding that this was probably the only solution tried wriggling his hands free, but all that effort just left him feeling tired. The ropes ended up burning him more, and cutting into his thin flesh. Harry felt droplets of blood run down his hands. After struggling for several minutes he knew he lost this war.
"Maybe Aunt Petunia will help me." He thought desperately. Harry had to laugh at this one. His Aunt Petunia wouldn't help him even if he were hit by a speeding car. She would probably be yelling at the guy because he wasn't able to finish the job.
All Harry knew was that someone had to come soon because he really needed to use the loo, and would go in his pants if no one came for him.
With his head spinning from dizziness, his stomach rumbling from hunger, his hands bleeding from the ropes, all combined together finally took its toll on him, and he heaved up the last meal that he had eaten, the Hogwarts end of the year banquet.
Harry was going to relieve himself, figuring that nobody was going to come for him, and he desperately needed to go.
He was already to, when he saw the door swing open.
"Surprise!" shouted Vernon from outside the cramped space. "I thought that staying home today would be worth it then going to work. I've rescheduled my meeting, to spend the day with you." He said this in a very sweet sickly voice.
Harry found he couldn't find his voice. He felt himself starting to shake, but was able to stop the shaking before it turned noticeable. Harry decided last night before he was flung down the stairs that he wouldn't show any kind of weakness in front of his uncle, no matter what punishment was dealt to him.
"Well aren't you going to say anything boy. Why don't you get up then?"
"I'm a little bit tied up right at the moment." Harry said trying to make the situation a little bit lighter.
"Don't be smart with me boy." Growled Vernon.
Vernon made his way across the room and punched Harry right in his stomach.
Harry just slouched further into the bed, the wind knocked right out of him.
"So, you've been busy this morning, I see? And I thought you were just tired. But dear me, what is this? Wouldn't be blood? Would it? Trying to escape, eh Potter? Going to run tell the FREAKS? Let me tell you something boy, you will never ever go back to that freak school of yours, never!" Vernon sounded amused almost like he was playing with Harry. "I'll be back, don't you dare move a muscle, or else."
Vernon stalked out of the room, and within seconds was back, carrying a bat.
"I'll show you, you ungrateful brat, trying to run away, after everything that I have done for you, maybe some real pain will knock some sense into you."
"Aunt Petunia won't let you." Harry said his voice wavering.
"Oh didn't I tell you?
"Tell me what?" Harry looked at him confused.
I sent both Petunia and Dudley on a visit to Marge's this morning; they won't be back for the rest of the month. YOU. ARE. ALL. MINE." He laughed like a little schoolgirl.
Vernon sat on Harry once more, pinning his legs down, in case the boy decided he was going to fight back. He untied one of Harry's arms from the bed, and placed his hand neatly on top of a thick hard covered book.
Harry had a feeling where this was going, and tried to squirm free, but when he did he felt the bat go into his stomach once more.
"You do that one more time boy, it'll be your head next."
Very swiftly Vernon held the bat high in the air, and brought it down hard on Harry's fingers, crushing them, but when they didn't break the first time, he continued until he heard the last of the five snaps as each finger broke.
Harry cried out in pain, stars were dancing across his face. He wished his uncle would hurry up. The throbbing in his fingers were excruciating, and he didn't know how much longer he could take.
"Please Uncle Vernon no more, I can't take it. I said I was sorry for last night, and I'm sorry for what I've done today just no more." Harry pleaded and cried at the same time.
"I'LL SAY WHEN IT IS ENOUGH BOY, DO YOU HEAR ME BOY?" Vernon yelled at Harry.
"Y…Ye..Yes ssssiiiirrr." Harry slurred.
"Good boy, I think I'm training you well." Vernon laughed again.
Harry's hand was turning purple from the broken bones in his fingers; he wished that he could make the bones in his hands go away, like Lockhart had done when he was in his second year at Hogwarts.
Before Harry had time to ponder anymore, he felt his uncle press something into his battered hand. He looked down and realized it was a quill, there was also parchment lying on the heavy book, and an ink well.
"Write, now." Vernon snarled.
"I. Can't. Uncle. Vernon. My. Fingers. They're. All. broken." He cried in between sobs.
"You will write boy, or otherwise it will be your other hand next."
Harry curled his broken fingers around the quill and wrote his first letter to Hermione.
Dear Hermione,
Hope you're summers going well. I'm good just got home from a day of shopping, but I've had time to look for the spells that you wanted me to, there are only four that will help when facing a death eater, they are: Hestatio (that causes major burns on people's arms and legs), Enervate, Lumos, Priori incantantum. See you in September
Harry.
Writing this letter took ten minutes, due to the pain that Harry was feeling.
Every now and then Harry would scream out, caused by his splintered fingers.
Vernon looked on in amusement clearly enjoying his nephew's suffering.
Harry finished his letter to Hermione, placed it in an envelope (after a quick look over by his uncle in case there was anything suspicious in there), and put it aside. With a pleading look in his eyes he faced his uncle.
"Uncle Vernon I can't write anymore, do you think I can write the others tomorrow. Just so my hand can rest."
"I don't think so boy, those freaks said they wanted the letter every three days, and today is the third day I want them done today. I'm not an idiot Potter, and DO NOT ever take me for one. Now write."
Harry finished all three letters, one to Tonks, Mad – Eye Moody, and Remus Lupin. These letters were much shorter than the one he wrote to Hermione.
"When will your owl be back?" Vernon questioned Harry once he was done all three letters.
"It's usually whenever she feels like it." Harry marvelled at this odd question.
"I want her back tonight no later than 7:00 p.m. got it boy."
"Yes sir."
He tied the approved letters to Hedwig's leg and gave her the message. She seemed to understand, because she nipped his hand as if to say "OK."
As Harry watched Hedwig take off he prayed that Hermione would see his small hint that he gave her in her letter, due to the fact that she was the brightest which of their age.
His hand hurt more then he could ever imagine, since he was forced to write those letters, and he passed out just as he heard his uncle leave the room and lock the door from behind him.
This time when Harry came to, he felt warmth spread over his throbbing body. He opened his eyes, and looked around him. He was not in the cupboard under the stairs anymore; he was in the Dursley's living room. He noticed that his one good hand was tied to the desk leg, and his bad hand lay listless beside him, still throbbing madly from its ordeal. Harry had no desire to move it whatsoever. To him it was fine where it was.
The warmth that he felt before was making him feel tired. He looked into the gentle fire that was lit in the fireplace.
"This is nice of him, at least." Harry thought, giving his uncle more credit than he deserved.
Harry had been lost in his thoughts when his Uncle Vernon, came trudging into the room, all of Harry's Hogwarts stuff in his hand.
He walked over to the fireplace, and set the stuff gently by the fire.
In that instant Harry knew what his uncle was planning to do. "NO." he cried. "Please don't do this."
"Oh but I shall have so much fun. You fouled up my things with your blood and vomit, I shall take the pleasure of doing the same to yours."
He picked up one of the textbooks of Harry's first year. He opened it and tore the first page out, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into the fire. He did that repeatedly with each and every book that Harry owned, until there was none left.
Harry couldn't believe it, all of his books gone, not that he would have really cared if they got lost, because they were easily replaceable, but it was the mere principle of it. His own uncle was destroying the only things that Harry could actually call his own.
Vernon then moved on to Harry's robes, his broomstick servicing kit, the foe glass, and on and on it went down the list of all of Harry's belongings, until he came down to the last two items, Harry's firebolt and his wand.
Vernon picked up the firebolt with his overly large sized hands, and twig-by-twig tore it apart in front of his nephew, he watched Harry's face as he gleefully put all the broken twigs in the fireplace.
"My Godfather gave me that. LEAVE IT ALONE." Harry screamed
"You mean the convict, the one that you were always going on about, the same one you scream to during the night. Oh I hear you boy." "Sirrrrriiuuus, Noooo, cooome baaaackkk, I'm sooorrry." He said mockingly.
"SHUDDUP! JUST SHUDDUP!" Harry was trembling now, furious. Furious at himself for being a wizard and not being able to do anything, but he was most furious at himself for giving his uncle power over him, when he couldn't help it.
"I should've sent you away when you first arrived at my house. Now don't you dare to tell me to shut up." And he backhanded Harry across the face once more.
"Please, I'll do extra chores, just don't. That is all that I have left of him." Harry hated to admit his next choice of words to his uncle, but he hoped that it would soften up his heart. "He died, two weeks before I came home, I don't have anything else of his." Harry's once sparkling emerald green eyes were now replaced by a grey hue. There was no life in those eyes anymore, they were just empty and they contained a look of a person who was beaten in life a long time ago. "On second thought, I don't care anymore, just do what you want." Harry said defeated, tears were now streaming down his face.
"My birthday came early this year." Vernon said maliciously, and he went back to stripping the firebolt, that helped to keep the flames afire.
The wand came next, and in a single snap it was broken in two. The phoenix strand poked out of the smaller half of the wand, sparkled for two seconds, and then the magic extinguished, gone forever like everything and everyone that Harry had loved.
With the fire gone, and all of Harry's valuables destroyed, Vernon was untying Harry to lock him in the cupboard again. Just at that moment Hedwig came flying out of the fireplace right on time, 7:00 on the dot.
"Finally." Vernon growled. Harry made as if to grab Hedwig with his bad hand, but Vernon grabbed his hand and roughly threw it back on the floor, knocking it into the desk. Harry howled in pain.
Instead Vernon grabbed the owl with both of his beefy hands, and with them he twisted Hedwig's neck around snapping it in two, just like he did with Harry's wand.
His beautiful snow owl, his trusted companion, now lay dead in his uncle's hands.
"NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Harry yelled again. "HEDWIG." Harry slumped into the desk knocking him into unconsciousness once more.
Vernon took the boy and locked him in the cupboard noticing before he left, the stench of urine that surrounded him.
Harry had finally wet himself, while unconscious just as Vernon put him down on the bed.
"Serves him right." Vernon said to no one in particular.
Vernon smiled to himself, and started humming a song as he picked up the remains of his nephew's owl. He threw it away in the backyard garbage bin.
Vernon went back inside his normal home, extremely happy with his day's achievement. He sat himself on the couch watching the evening news, to see what freaks were destroying innocent lives that night.