A/N SorryI tookso long to update! I promise to be quicker now! Thanks to all the people who have reveirwed my work
As the days progressed, so did the abuse. Harry knew of no way to stop it, and nothing he did made him feel better afterwards. With Petunia and Dudley home most of the time, Vernon couldn't abuse Harry as much as he wanted to. One day when Petunia had taken Dudley shopping yet again, Vernon had another "sick" day. When Vernon was done with Harry, Harry had taken a long, extremely hot shower. As he'd stood in the shower stall scrubbing every inch of his body, Vernon had burst into the bathroom and decided to punish Harry some more.
'My friends wouldn't recognize me anymore,' Harry thought as he looked sadly at his reflection in his mirror one night. And it was true, they wouldn't. Harry had lost a lot of weight, due to stress and depression recently. His already slim frame was gaunt, and covered in countless welts, sores and bruises. Harry watched as a single tear trickled out of his puffy right eye. It slid down his cheek, and then fell from his face like a glistening diamond. Harry felt the floodgates burst, and watched miserably as the tears flooded down his cheeks. His eyes began to turn red, which clashed with the mottles purples, yellows, greens and blues of the skin on his face.
He wiped away the tears, and winced. Even moving was painful, and sitting down had become near impossible. He glanced over at his calendar, and saw there were still two weeks left until the new term at Hogwarts. Two weeks! Harry wrote a letter to Ron, begging him to let him come to the Burrow. He didn't think he'd be able to handle two more weeks here.
If Aunt Petunia saw the bruises, she didn't say anything. He slowly winced his way from kitchen to dining room, at the steady pace of a crippled three-legged turtle dropped in the Sahara desert on a hot day in the middle of summer.
"Hurry up boy!" bellowed Vernon, as Harry at last made it to the table without aggrieving his abused skin. He placed the food on the table and winced as he took his seat, his eyes glued to his plate.
"So," began Aunt Petunia, "I was thinking I would take ickle Dudderkins to get his new school uniform. School starts in only two weeks." Dudley had lost a lot of weight from his diet and exercise. Aunt Petunia was quite proud to gloat that Dudley was now not wearing the largest uniform.
As Aunt Petunia told the table her plans to leave for today, Harry felt that little pool of dread he kept with him always these days explode like a geyser of foreboding and doom. He lifted his head, his eyes as wide as dinner plates, and looked at Aunt Petunia, mouth agape. She sneered at him coldly. He turned his gaze to Uncle Vernon who betrayed no emotion from his beady black eyes. His gaze quickly wandered back to his plate, blood running from his face, leaving him with a pasty white pallor.
It was just after one o'clock when Aunt Petunia and Dudley left. Contrary to what Harry expected, Vernon did not directly come for him.
It was just after three and Vernon had still not come for him. Harry thought he had gotten away with it, some of the color returned to his face. He was starting to feel less anxious, and the geyser of fear within him had dwindled to merely a fast-flowing river.
Harry was entertaining himself by starting to get a move on with his holiday homework. He was halfway through his potions essay when the door burst open. It had nearly flown off its hinges. Harry squealed in shock, and Vernon entered, smiling coldly.
"Hello Harry!"
Harry looked like a doe caught in the ultra-violet head beams of an all-terrain sports utility vehicle on a cool, dark moonless night.
"You didn't think I'd forget about you boy, did you?" Vernon couldn't keep the maniacal grin from his face.
Harry made a bolt for the door, but was caught and overpowered by Vernon, like a leaf caught in the never-ceasing twirls of a whirl-pool.
Harry whimpered as Vernon used him to let his anger out. Harry whimpered as Vernon added even more bruises to his already abused, barely healed body. Harry whimpered like a Chihuahua caught in a trash compactor.
Suddenly, the door burst open again. It was Aunt Petunia standing there, her mouth an almost non-existent line. She looked so angry she might combust, like a stone thrown into the mouth of a volcano. She looked at Harry, and then at Dursley…doing that to Harry. Then she looked solely at Harry again.
Harry…" she began coldly, "What the hell are you doing to my husband?" she screeched, "You bastard, you faggot, you little shit…you seduced my husband!" She stormed towards Harry, fury in her eyes. She slapped the startled Harry harshly across the face. "I take you in, out of the goodness of my heart, and this is how you repay me. You gay little shit, I just hope your sickness hasn't spread to my Duddy-kins." She slapped him some more, then picked him up by the scruff of his neck and bodily threw him from the house.
"Now you can live the rest of your life on the streets, with your other queer friends."
She threw Harry's belongings from the window (which wasn't much, mind you!). Harry's trunk narrowly missed landing on him. He quickly gathered his stuff and ran from that hell-hole of a house.