AN: Seriously people (I'm not going to make that stupid pun for the millionth time), why do I have two reviews and one of them is from someone telling me they are confused!? I do have oodles of alerts (thank you) but no reviews? Please, Please, Please, do not just sign up for an alert and never review, it is incredibly discouraging.

In addition, I could really use a beta. I read over my chapters but I always do it quickly and miss things. Please let me know if you would be interested.

Blinded by the Light Chapter 2

Last time

I had been running, hiding, and fighting all my life. I knew the look of someone who had lost sanity. I just never thought it would grace the eyes of my "normal" family. Petunia was no longer a mother, an aunt, a muggle; she was someone who had lived in fear for 16 years. She was angry.

I saw the pan I had used to fry my cousins breakfast and then…the sun. The pink rays of early morning had faded to reveal blood red stains running across the sky. If those rays would be the last thing I would ever see, I could die happy.

Unfortunately, my death was not in my Aunt's plan. There was something far, far worse.

Now:

Dudley's POV

I love Bacon. Mum is making Harry get me some Bacon, I can't wait! He always makes it better than she does; taking care to make sure all the grease is removed from the strips. Perfectly cooked every time.

He's not so bad, I guess. I don't like having a pig tale but I don't think all magic does is hurt people. I saw Harry's face when Hagrid took him away from our house. I didn't understand it then but now I do. He was happy to get away…from us.

I'm an arse, I know I am, but how can I be anything else considering how my parents raised me. Harry is under me, he's not normal. The only thing I don't understand is why, if he can do such amazing things, he is considered under me. Mum and Dad have drilled into my head Harry's freakishness but I wonder…what if magic is just nature's way of natural selection. There aren't as many wizards as normal folk (that I know of) but they've managed to stay hidden for hundreds of years.

Mum is yelling again. I don't understand why she uses that sugary voice with me but as soon as she gets to Harry, her eyes turn cold; her words turn to bitter orders. Harry is part of our family, why does she treat him as if he's a slave?

I can only watch on in shocked disgust as she burns him in the grease used for my bacon. Has she goes entirely mad?! Her eyes fly around the kitchen but I don't know what she's looking for, when she focuses on Harry again there is a strange look in her eyes. She's scaring me. For the first time in all my spoiled sixteen years my mum is not my mum, she's a monster.

There has to be something I can do. Those frea-erm…people that watch him should be around here somewhere.

As I get up from the table silently, I can't help but feel as if I'm already too late. By the time I get back into this house with help, my mum will have done something unforgivable. She can hurt him, but I'll never let her become a murderer.

It's time to turn my back on my family. It's time for me to step up…and help the only person who's ever treated me like a normal person.

Harry's POV

Dudley has left. I am alone with Petunia and her insanity. I wonder if my cousin has gone to watch the telly as he often does. I had only been out for a few minutes but when I came to Dudley had left the table (odd since he had not eaten yet) and Petunia had tied my hands together.

It's funny that my life as "The Boy Who Lived" may come to end here, in the home of my "family". The only person to ever survive the killing curse killed by a muggle. Great, just great.

Waiting for the fight? Waiting for the Harry everyone knows and loves to get on his feet and fight with everything he has? It's not going to happen. I'm too tired to defy death; I'm too exhausted to keep stringing fate along.

Petunia seems to have gotten some guts. She's holding a recently sharpened steak knife in one hand, the other balled up tightly against her pathetically thin chest. She's shaking with rage, her eyes glazed, and then…she charges.

I am suddenly reminded of Greek myths and virgin sacrifices. Petunia is the vengeful goddess to my shaking Andromeda (1).

As the knife, and Petunia, slammed into my gut, I felt the burning pain of the knife. It was not the sharpest; it's dullness making the gash more ragged and painful. It was agony. It hurt more than anything I had ever felt before.

Before I was aware of what was happening Aunt Petunia yanked the knife out and drew it sharply across my eye.

'Screaming? Who's screaming?' I wonder hazily.

Suddenly I realize that it's me. That horrible cry, the sobbing, it coming from me.

She drew the knife across my other eye and all I can see is black. I can't see the red of my own blood, or the scarlet of the sky. My sight, which I had never treasured or felt particularly attached to, was gone.

"Mrs. Dursley!?" someone shouted aghast.

I know the voice but I can't seem to put a face it. The darkness in my mind is growing blacker by the second. My mind can no longer process the spells being shouted at my aunt, the sounds of Dudley's shocked gasp at my appearance. I recognize the pull of sleep at my consciousness and then…no pain. There was only light and the voice of my mother.

"Shhh Harry dear, everything will be all right. Go to sleep now." she whispered

I allowed myself to be lulled by that feeling and that voice but I didn't believe the softly spoken lie. My mother was dead and nothing was ever going to be all right again.

After all, the darkness sneered, what does the light side need with a hero who can only see darkness?

(1): Andromeda was a Greek mythological woman who was chained to a rock to be a sacrifice to a sea monster as divine punishment for her mother's bragging. (Directly from Wikipedia)