Title: Who Wants to Be the Bloody Boy Who Wouldn't Die?
Author: Iskjif
Pairings: Voldemort/Harry (eventually)
Warnings: Okay, if you have a problem with my future pairing and are still reading this after my warning, well as far as I'm concerned you have no rights… The biggest warning for this chappie is the violence (also known as abuse) both verbal and physical.
Summary: Eventual HPLV. After the events of OotP Harry is apathetic and disillusioned. The Dursley's escalating abuse only serves to alienate him further. When Voldemort's followers come for him, the idea of torture isn't too unpleasant when it's at the hands of those who don't pretend to care.
A/N: Wow! I never expected to get so many reviews! I hardly know what to do with myself! Thank you guys so much!
This chappie is dedicated to CSI Gray because she helped me massively with getting this fic up and running. I love you my Sami! Without your feedback and patience for my total lack of self-esteem, this ficcie never would have gotten posted!
OoToO
Harry sighed and wiped the sweat off his brow. Being forced to pull weeds from his Aunt's flowerbed in the middle of July was not on his list of favorite things to do. But then, neither was being exposed to the sight of his cousin frolicking in the sprinkler. Despite his disgust, Harry took some amusement in that, even with the high priority that the Dursleys placed on appearances, they were completely oblivious to how obscene it was to allow Dudley waddle and flop around half-naked in the front yard.
Every once in a while Harry would notice someone in another house glancing out at his cousin's bouncing blubber. He snickered thinking about how this… incident would effect the neighbors' opinions of the Dursleys. It wasn't that he was vengeful, he just knew that the Dursleys didn't deserve anyone's good opinion, especially not the good opinions of their all-important neighbors. The thought that the nosey neighbors of Privet Drive would spend at least a month gossiping away their time discussing today's display just seemed to brightened his day.
Harry pulled up another weed feeling a twinge in his ribs. He really could not understand how Petunia expected him to do a good job on her flowerbed in the state he was in. His ribs still ached from the last time Vernon had thought that Harry had disrespected him and he sorely needed some water. He knew that if he asked for any water the only answer he would get would be that he needed to stop complaining over nothing and get back to work.
The Boy Who Lived or the Bloody Boy Who Wouldn't Die as he was wont to refer to himself, had been hustled out of bed at seven this morning to cook his uncle breakfast. He had been lucky this morning and had been able to finish cooking without any mishaps. Vernon had grudgingly allowed that the food was passable which caused Harry to sigh in relief. The man glared at Harry for his reaction but did nothing beyond that before going to work.
Harry had been working and doing chores around the house nonstop since then. Dudley had flaunted his inactivity until the heat had gotten to him, which had happened to coincide with Petunia telling Harry to go out and pull up weeds. Sometimes he wondered if Dudley's only goal in life was to make Harry's life even more hellish than it already was. Harry looked longingly at the sprinkler wishing he could take just one drink, but he dared not. If he did his aunt was sure to tell Vernon that he had come on to his cousin or some rubbish like that… He would definitely rather go thirsty for a while than to incur his uncle's wrath. It was almost noon anyways. Petunia would have to have him come in then so that it would at least seem like she was going to feed him lunch.
Just then as if by magic, Harry's rail of an aunt stepped out of the house carrying a towel for Dudley. He chuckled at the thought. The mere use the 'M' word would have gotten him a beating had he used it out loud. Petunia's attention focused on him and she wrinkled her nose as if she smelt something foul.
"What are you chuckling about boy? Lounging about as if there were nothing to do." She sneered. "Well get in the house boy! It's time for your lunch." She pitched the last to carry a bit farther.
Harry stood up quickly, ignoring his aches and pains, and scurried into the house so as not to provoke his aunt further. He could hear her call out to his cousin as he passed by. He stopped by the kitchen for a glass of water but then headed straight up to his room. Both he and his aunt knew that he wasn't to have any lunch. It was all an act for the neighbors. He usually only got dinner and even then it wasn't much. A couple of stale slices of bread and a glass of water were normally on the menu. The only break to this routine of one sparse meal a day was when someone who knew that he lived with the Dursleys came to dinner. Then he was allowed to eat as if he were a real member of the family.
Sometimes it bothered Harry that his family treated him the way they did. The thought that they were supposed to be the ones to care and take care of him was deeply depressing. It wasn't that he expected them to be nice, he had grown up with their neglect and their denial of his identity. Even if he'd had any such expectations, this summer would have devastated them. The Dursleys' neglect had turned to full-blown abuse after the Order members had threatened them at the beginning of the summer. The first thing Vernon had done the next morning was to lock Hedwig up and say that if Harry ever tried to say anything to the Order or any of his friends that he would shoot his 'bloody pigeon'. He enforced this by keeping the beautiful snowy owl locked up and reading through every letter that Harry sent out.
After the first beating, Harry had tried to subtly tell Hermione what was happening. He knew that she would be able to pick up on hints that Vernon would miss in his screening of Harry's letters. He waited anxiously for her reply so that he could know what to expect. When he finally did get her response, he was sorely disappointed.
"Oh Harry, You must be overreacting! It doesn't make any sense that you wouldn't be safe with your family. Professor Dumbledore is much wiser than us and we both know that he would never do anything that wasn't in your best interest…"
At that point he had dropped the letter in shock. He picked it up and read over that last part again. He tossed the letter down on his desk in frustration and immediately wrote to Ron.
Hermione had already talked to Ron and ever the hen-pecked boyfriend, he agreed with her completely.
Harry had felt slightly betrayed by his friends. Didn't they know him well enough to know when he was in trouble? He hadn't written to them or responded to their letters since.
The boy savior sat down on his bed and tried to think of something to do. He would have at least until five, when Vernon got home, to himself. He could write to Remus… but no, he didn't want to lie to the werewolf about how he was doing and he was feeling too hopeless to try and tell Remus about what was going on with the Dursleys. After a few moments of further thinking he decided that he would do some reading. Vernon had locked up his school things but the night before he had done so; Harry had had an inkling of what was to happen. He had hidden some books, parchment, ink, and a quill in various places around the room where his uncle would not find them. Harry removed one of his favorite spell books from its hiding place and started reading.
This went on for several hours until Harry noted the sound of a car door slamming. He looked at the time and saw that it was time for Vernon to be getting home. He went back to his reading, knowing he would be called if and when he was needed. Almost another forty-five minutes was spent that way until he heard the shout.
"BOY!"
Harry quickly hid his book and stood at attention in front of his door. He didn't stand too close, he had learned the hard way that his uncle liked to throw the door open and if he was standing too close when that happened then the door would catch him in the chin and knock him to the ground. He was soon glad that he had stood where he did, because Vernon knocked the door open rather violently.
The boy had very little time to react to this. His uncle backhanded him as soon as he was in the room. Harry then found himself on the floor. Vernon kicked him viciously in the side and started shouting, his face already purpling.
"DUDLEY TOLD ME HOW YOU WERE LOOKING AT HIM THIS MORNING, YOU FILTHY FREAK! HOW DARE YOU BEHAVE IN SUCH A DISGUSTING WAY IN FRONT OF THE NEIGHBORS!"
Harry knew that it was useless to argue, to say that there was no way he would ever look at his cousin the way that Vernon was implying and that the mere idea turned his stomach. He simply tried to shield himself from another kick to the side. Harry prayed that tonight Vernon's rage wouldn't last for long and that he would tire of 'punishing' Harry for his 'abnormality'. He really had no idea what gave the Dursleys the idea that he was gay, although he suspected that it was his slight build and pretty features. It was ironic that his delicate build was one of the possible causes of their belief. When he had mentioned his stature to Hermione previously in the year she had said that she believed it to be due to malnutrition.
Whenever Dudley would say something about Harry's sexual preference it always made Harry extremely nervous. But he was immensely glad that his cousin had never acted on his belief beyond occasionally telling his parents imagined stories about things Harry had done or said to him.
Vernon picked Harry up by his shirt and lifted him off the ground.
"Listen here boy! You are nothing but a sick freak! I will not have you ruining our good name with you behavior!" the man growled in his face. He punched Harry in the gut and dropped him to the floor.
Harry laid where he was until he heard his uncle start thumping down the stairs. The boy dragged himself over to his bed and made to get up on it. Pain shot through him and he crumpled back to the floor. He immediately gave up on trying to get onto the bed and curled up next to it. He knew that he most likely had several broken ribs and resolved to sleep and let his internal magic work on the breaks. As he began to drift off and his exhaustion began to win over pain, he briefly wondered why everything horrible always seemed to happen to him and his last tiny bit of faith in Dumbledore faded with his consciousness.
OoToO
A/N: wow, I got this done way before I planned to! Hehe… I promised myself that I wouldn't write today… I guess that's what happens when you don't expect to get any reviews for several days and then get a ton in the first day… Don't expect me to update this often, it'll probably be two times a week at best, well unless you guys blow me away with reviews that is… Reviews have great power over me! anyways… If you reviewed and didn't get mentioned it's because you prolly reviewed during the time between when I updated and when the story posted on the site. Don't worry if that happened! I'll make sure that I mention you next chapter… I think that's it for now… until next time! blows kiss I love you guys!