Chapter 2

When Harry awoke he was in a small dark space, the cupboard under the stairs. He couldn't remember how he got there. The last thing he remembered was the punishment he had endured last night. He wasn't sure how long he had been there but guessed overnight, as he could see bright sun through the slats on the door. The small space was just as he remembered it from all those years in this so called "bedroom". Small, dark and crawling with spiders.

Harry hadn't been exactly sure what had triggered Uncle Vernon's violent behavior but knew it all had to do with him. He knew it was wrong but didn't know what to do anymore. He couldn't tell any of his friends without the help of Hedwig and was actually too humiliated to ask for help. If the Muggles found out then he might end up in an orphanage. That was the last place he wanted to be. The less he had in common with Voldemort the better.

The sound of Aunt Petunia's shrill voice yelling for him filled his throbbing head like a sharp knife. He could feel every bruise and cut along his back as he rolled over toward the door. It took everything he had not to scream out in pain.

"Harry? Harry! Where is that freak?" Petunia yelled.

"He's lazing about somewhere my love," Vernon said in a 'know it all' tone of voice. "Probably causing trouble again. I told you he got into a fight yesterday, didn't I?"

Aunt Petunia shook her head and went out the back door looking for her good for nothing nephew.

As soon as the screen door slammed shut, Vernon snuck over to the cupboard and flung the door open. He quickly grabbed a handful of Harry's hair and pulled. Out tumbled a shocked and injured Harry onto the floor.

"Get out here, you freak!" yelled Uncle Vernon, giving him a mighty kick in the ribs to wake him up.

Harry bit his lip to stop any sound escaping, so he wouldn't be punished further.

"Uncle Vernon why are you doing this to me? What did I do?" He wished he had his wand to defend himself. At this point he didn't care if the ministry charged him with under age magic. At least he would still be alive.

"Get upstairs quick and shower and change before Petunia sees you, you filthy beggar!" Uncle Vernon hissed in Harry's ear as he pulled him to his feet.

Harry stumbled backwards as he made his way to the stairs, squinting from the bright sun and never turning his back to his Uncle. When he reached the stairs he turned towards them and pain stakingly made his way up. He could still hear Aunt Petunia's shrill voice calling for him outside.

Harry showered as best as he could, all the while holding his ribs where Uncle Vernon had kicked him. He avoided looking into the steamy mirror when he emerged from the shower. He slowly dressed in a t-shirt three sizes too big and a pair of oversized trousers, both once belonging to Dudley. He just felt so empty, so distant from what was happening to him. Almost as if he was watching someone else. He knew he needed to get help but how could he get help without Hedwig? Please let Hedwig be alright.

Harry slowly made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen to find the now shrieking Aunt Petunia.

"Oh Lovely!" Petunia shrieked when she saw him. "What sort of trouble did you get yourself into now! We are having company tonight!" Petunia put her hand to her chest and shook her head. "Lovely, this is just lovely ... an incorrigible delinquent for all the neighbors to see. I can't have you looking like that in front of others, thankfully its only Figg."

"I ... I'm sorry Aunt Petunia. I erm, sort of fell and I don't feel so good," Harry said, holding his ribs where Vernon had kicked him just moments before and scanning the room to make sure his Uncle wasn't around.

"I don't give a hoot how you feel. This whole supper is all your fault and you're going to be there whether you feel good or not! Can't believe we're putting our good money towards a supper with the crazy old cat lady Figg!" Petunia shrieked as she shoved her nephew towards the stove to begin cooking supper.

Harry thought back to a week ago, before the beatings had begun. He remembered the look on Mrs. Figg's face when she had first spotted him working in the garden.

He had been working all day without so much as a scrap of food since the previous evening. He was weary and bone tired when a shadow fell across the patch of weeds he was picking. He looked up into the concerned face of Mrs. Figg.

"Now they gotcha workin like a house elf do they?" The squib asked with contempt. "I have a good mind to write Dumbledore and let him know how they're treatin' you. Merlin, if the wizarding world ever found out how the-boy-who-lived, really did live, they would be breakin down Fudge's door!"

By this time Harry had sat back on his heels and was looking up at his old babysitter a.k.a. Dumbledore's spy.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead and shook his head, "Don't bother telling Dumbledore Mrs. Figg. I'm sure he's busy dealing with the mess I made."

"Oh, your talking bout the ministry fiasco and Sirius Black then?"

"Yeah, I really messed up. I don't mind working in the yard. It takes me away from them," Harry said as he pointed to the house with his thumb.

Mrs. Figg looked towards the house and saw the pointy face of Petunia looking out the window. Petunia realized she had been spotted and waved towards them with a stiff smile. At that point Arabella decided to have a little chat with Petunia and made her way towards the house.

Harry quickly followed to see what would be said.

Mrs. Figg stopped outside the window and gave a wave, "Hi there Petunia dear. I see you've got Harry workin hard this summer."

Petunia held back from spitting out a derisive comment about her nephew and instead offered up, "Oh yes. You know how boys are. If you don't keep them busy they get into all sorts of trouble."

"I notice Dudley isn't working outside today," Arabella stated with a hint of contempt.

"Oh well Dudley is such a popular fellow. His calendar is filled with tea's and engagements of sorts," Petunia proudly stated.

Arabella held back a snort but she heard Harry snort behind her.

Petunia shot her nephew a warning glare before fixing her face into a smile once again. "It's so nice to see you Arabella but I really have to run. Maybe we could get together for supper soon?" Petunia said knowing she would never follow through. She wasn't prepared for Mrs. Figg's reply.

"That sounds wonderful dear. How does Friday look for you?" Arabella was taking great enjoyment over the look of panic that crossed Petunia's pinched face.

"Oh well we have plans for Friday, but some other time then," Petunia quickly replied and started backing a way from the window.

"Then Sunday it is," Arabella said and began to walk away.

Petunia rushed back to the window and tried to come up with another excuse. She didn't think of one fast enough as she watched Figg hurrying away. Bloody hell, now they were stuck with an unwanted dinner guest! It was all the boy's fault.

Now here it was, one week later and the supper was in just a few minutes. Harry's heart raced as he knew this might be the only chance he had to let Dumbledore know he needed help. At this point he knew he had to get help, he didn't have a choice as he could tell his ribs were broken. There was no way he could perform all his chores feeling like this for the rest of the summer.

Humiliation washed over him at the thought of Madame Pomfrey seeing him in this condition. And what of the rest of the Order members? He would have to beg Dumbledore not to tell anyone about his recent circumstances. What if Snape was still at the school? The greasy git would find out and use it against him once school began. Snape wouldn't hesitate to tell the whole school about his punishments. Bloody hell, how did he get himself into these messes?

The beatings had been well deserved though. He knew that it was all his fault that Sirius had died and mostly his fault that Cedric died and definitely his fault that his parents had died. So, even though it was Vernon dealing out the punishments he knew he deserved to be treated that way.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a heavy slap to the side of his head. Dudley raised his hand again but this time Harry stepped out of the way, causing Dudley to smash his hand on the refrigerator.

"Owww, Daaad, Harry made me hurt my hand!" Dudley cried with a smirk towards Harry.

Harry didn't even try to defend himself. At this pointhe knew he would just be asking for further punishment. Instead he stepped back as far as he could into the corner when his Uncle came lumbering at himin the kitchen.

"That's it boy! You're just askin for another lesson aren't you?" Vernon screamed into his nephew's face, spittle hitting Harry in the face.

Petunia quickly came running, "Now Vernon, you can punish him later. Figg should be here any minute."

Vernon lowered his heavy fist and grumbled as he was escorted out of the kitchen by his wife. Dudley stayed where he was, taunting Harry every chance he had.

"Dad's gonna give you the beating you deserve when old lady Figg leaves."

Harry ignored the overweight bully and continued cooking the chicken. He knew what was waiting for him, there were no doubts he would be beaten again. He hated to admit that he was actually scared. Vernon had been hitting him harder and losing that slim sense of reality when he was in the throes of his lessons, as he like to call them.

Harry finished cooking just as the doorbell rang and Petunia called the boys to the table. Since Mrs. Figg would be dining with them Harry would be allowed to sit at the table and actually eat. He was looking forward to a real meal, it would be his first since leaving Hogwarts.

As soon as Arabella took one look at Harry she gasped in horror. The boy looked so much worse than last week with half hidden bruises and sallow cheeks.

"When's the last time you ate, son?" Arabella asked the thin teen.

Harry's eyes darted to his Uncle and he saw the look of fury on the over stuffed swine. "Erm, I've been a little under the weather this week, Mrs. Figg," Harry quickly responded.

"Well for heavens sake, you need to eat boy!" Arabella said and escorted Harry to the set table. She watched as the boy hesitated serving himself.

Harry waited until everyone else took their portion before taking his own small bit. Arabella grabbed his plate and heaped more chicken and potatoes on it.

The conversation was stilted and hardly more than a few words every now and then. It was obvious their guest was not her normal friendly self, causing the Dursley's to become more inhospitable than ever.

As soon as supper ended Petunia made an excuse that she had to rise early in the morning and escorted Mrs. Figg to the door. Harry panicked at the thought of his chance for help slipping away before his eyes. But then again, he did have Hedwig to consider. If Dumbledore saved him now he knew Hedwig would die. No! He couldn't be responsible for another friend dying. No!

Arabella wanted to grab the boy and take him with her but knew that wouldn't go over well. She couldn't wait to get out of there and contact Hogwarts. This boy looked like he was barely able to stand and worse off than ever before.

When the door to number fourshut, all eyes turned to the thin teen. Harry felt his heart race and leaned up against the wall for support.

"Upstairs. Now!" Vernon hissed.

Petunia glared at her nephew as he walked past her. Dudley punched him on the side of the head with a snicker. Harry slowly made his way up the stairs, hardly able to stomach the thought of being punished once again. The food he ate sat in his stomach like a rock, making him feel nauseous and dizzy all at once.

As soon as the door closed he was in the living hell that was his life. Vernon pushed him up against the wall and the lesson began.

Sometime during the lesson the fragile cord that was otherwise known as reality had snapped. Harry became obsessed with the fact that he deserved everything he got. Every time the belt fell upon his bony back he felt as if he were being punished for all the wrong he had caused, all the deaths he had caused. His mind was no longer in reality.

When the vicious beating ended, it was followed up by an episode that permanently broke the boy who lived. The incident was so heinous, so demeaning that Harry would forever be wounded from it. Vernon had grabbed his hand and forced it open. He took the cigarette he had been smoking and ground it out in the palm of Harry's hand, ignoring the boy's pleas to stop.

Harry's mind snapped past the already fragile state it was in and he lost his sense of reality, right before he passed out.

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