Haja
Chapter 1
His lungs burned. Sweat had made his shirt stick to his back and the too-large jeans felt weighed down with it. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on getting his breath back. The yelling seemed far away and he felt as if it might be getting further away. He prayed he was hearing it correctly. If he could just have a little time, maybe he could get out of this…
The morning had begun like all the others. Aunt Petunia had screamed at him to wake up and fix breakfast before beginning on an endless list of jobs around the house. He had forgotten that it was also Dudley's birthday until he saw the huge pile of gifts on the table. Uncle Vernon was his usual vindictive self as he cuffed Harry for taking too long to bring his coffee.
"Mind you don't burn anything, you freak. Dudley's day will be perfect."
Harry rolled his eyes. It was always the same. They always demanded that he not burn anything, as if he did it often. The reality was that it had happened once, when he was six years old. The bacon had burned when Aunt Petunia had sent him upstairs to fetch Dudley's favorite sweater. Never mind that he couldn't button it over his belly, or that it would be too hot a day for it. The result was that the bacon was too crisp when Harry was able to return to the pan, and they all blamed him for it. Ever since, there was not a time in the kitchen when he was not admonished to not burn anything.
"Dad!" Dudley yelled. "The freak rolled his eyes at you behind your back! I saw him!" Dudley was positively gleeful as he pointed a fat finger in Harry's direction.
Vernon grew red in the face and he slowly stood up and turned to face Harry. Petunia quickly picked up her own coffee cup and moved away from the table. Dudley was grinning.
"Wallop him for it dad. Wallop him good!"
Harry swallowed the knot in his throat as he set the spatula down. His right hand reached instinctively for his wand and Vernon saw it.
"You'd dare to think about using that freakish business on me, boy?"
Harry rubbed his hand on his thigh. Of course, his wand was locked in his trunk and the trunk was locked in the cupboard. "No, Uncle Vernon. I wouldn't do that—"
"You're a liar, boy! I saw you reach for it! But it's put away safe and sound, isn't it? You're helpless without it, aren't you?" he mocked.
Harry shook his head. "I wouldn't hurt anyone without reason!"
"Of course not!" Vernon growled. "You can't use your freaky stick while you're here, can you? You'll get in trouble again, won't you?"
"I'm allowed to defend myself—"
"You're allowed nothing that I don't allow!" came the roar from the plum-faced man. He had come to stand right in front of Harry, backing him against the kitchen counter. Now he grabbed two fist fulls of Harry's shirt front and hauled him up so that their faces were inches apart. "Those freaky friends of yours haven't set one toe around here that I've seen this summer! Abandoned you as a waste, eh Potter?"
Harry started to protest and the stopped when Vernon gave him a shake. It was true. Despite the fact that the Order had told Vernon they would be watching closely last summer, this summer there was nothing to indicate that they were around. No one had issued any threats at Kings Cross when Vernon had picked Harry up. Only Ron and Hermione had witnessed the humiliating sight of Harry dragging his trunk along behind Vernon as the man muttered dire threats against being seen or heard by the neighbors after they got home.
There had been no owls in the last month. No words of comfort and promises of being able to get away from Privet Drive early. Harry had thought that since this was the summer he turned seventeen, he would be allowed to leave sooner. He would be a legal adult wizard. He had expected that plans would be made to let him go to the Burrow, or barring that, to Grimmauld Place, to celebrate the event. But here it was, only a week away and there had been no word. Needling thoughts that Dumbledore meant for him to stay here the entire summer this time kept making themselves known and Harry would push them roughly to the back of his mind.
He didn't have access to any of his books, locked away as they were, so he was glad that Hermione had made the three of them cram in all the extra study sessions before the term let out. They weren't studying normal work. They had decided that the three of them would do their utmost to become animagi before graduation.
Hermione had ordered the books through owl post so no one would know what they were up to. After much discussion, they had determined that it was only good sense that they had a secret that no one else knew. It had given Harry a sense of deeper camaraderie to have that secret with his best friends, and a rebellious sense of satisfaction that Dumbledore didn't know it. Merlin only knew that the man had kept many secrets of his own these last few years; secrets that Harry felt he should have known, and that would have changed how he had reacted to certain events.
Before school had let out, the three of them had worked themselves up as far as trying to visualize their animagus form. Ron was some kind of canine, while Hermione was certain that hers was an owl. Harry had managed to make a change in his eyes and the pupils had vertical slits. Ron had thought that meant Harry would be a type of snake, since he also spoke Parseltongue. Hermione had shaken her head. There were other animals with slitted pupils besides snakes. She had encouraged them both to spend time meditating and concentrating on their forms over the summer, and hoped they would come back to school with clear pictures of what they were going to transform into. The books had said that it took months, if not years, to be able to channel their magic into the proper alignments and resonances in order to accomplish the change. Most witches and wizards could not ever do it, as they had not the depth of desire, nor the magical power to channel in the first place. The fact they had visualized a form at all meant they could do it. She thought they would have to be fully qualified adults before they could complete it.
She and Ron had already turned seventeen. Harry wondered if they had practiced together. He couldn't help feeling a bit jealous that they would have had each other to support their efforts while he was alone with his own meditation each night, locked in his room.
He realized he had made a huge mistake in letting his thought drift when Vernon yanked him even closer, the heat of his breath in Harry's face as he roared, "You will NOT ignore me boy!"
He shoved Harry backwards and the force of it slammed his ribs against the countertop. He winced with the sharp pain in his back, but Vernon was already turning to his son.
"I think you should take your cousin out today, Dudders. In honor of your birthday, he should spend the day with you and your friends."
Dudley sputtered in outrage at his father's suggestion. "But we're going to the movies, and then the clubs—"
Vernon grinned and nodded. "And so you shall. But first, you and your friends could include Harry in a little coming-of-age celebration, I think."
Dudley began what would have been a gigantic tantrum if he had not suddenly realized what his father was offering; the chance to do whatever he wanted to his cousin, with his dad's blessing. An identical vicious smirk appeared on his face.
Petunia stepped forward, "The boy has chores to do today—"
"Oh he'll do them later dearest. He'll do them before nightfall. Dudley and his friends just want to have a little fun first." Vernon patted her arm. Then he turned to Harry and snapped, "Finish making breakfast, freak. My son is hungry and you are dawdling around as if you have all day!"
Harry silently turned back to the stove, glad he had turned the flame off when his uncle had headed over to him, or else it would have been ruined by now. He finished the eggs and gathered the toast on a platter. As he was putting it on the table, he heard Dudley out in the hallway on the telephone.
"…yeah, dad told me to take the freak out for fun, and you and Piers are invited. It's one of my presents! I think we'll take him out to the woods beyond the park. It's private there…"
The rest was lost in whispers and Harry swallowed back a moan of despair and he tried to think how he could get out of this. He glanced at Petunia, knowing she was aware of what was about to happen. She was studiously ignoring him, focusing on fussing with the table settings and then the stack of gifts at Dudley's place.
Vernon was behind his newspaper again, peering over the top every few moments to glare at Harry.
Dudley came back in and sat down, immediately dishing up an enormous pile of eggs onto his plate. "Both of them can come! They'll be here in a half hour." He looked up at Harry standing still by the table and grinned. "Best put your fastest shoes on, freak. We're going on a Harry Hunt for real today."
Vernon chuckled behind his paper and Petunia paled but kept silent. Harry just stared at his cousin and then calmly walked out of the room and up the stairs to the extra bedroom. Hedwig was in her cage and he walked over to her.
"Go to Ron's. I'm not sure if it will be safe here anymore." He opened the window and Hedwig flew to his shoulder where she gave him a tiny nip on the earlobe before taking off.
Going to the rickety wardrobe, he pulled out another shirt and layered it on top of the one he already wore. It wouldn't be any real protection, but it made him feel better to have the extra layer on, like a kind of mental armour. He sat down on the bed and closed his eyes. Using the meditative techniques he had been practicing, he tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart. With no wand he was helpless against the likes of Dudley.
He had no doubt that his cousin would do his best to hurt him badly. It wouldn't be the first time, but this time it was different. Before, it was always an attack of opportunity, when Harry was in his way, or when he accidently met up with him and his friends while on a walk to the store for his aunt. This time, Dudley was planning his attack, planning just how to hurt Harry. This time he had his father's blessing and verbal encouragement.
Blinking his eyes open, he wondered if there were any Order members who would see him being taken from the wards of Privet Drive. Would there be someone who would alert Dumbledore? If they only had some prearranged signal that Harry could give to let them know he was in trouble.
He looked down at his feet and shook his head. These were his fastest shoes, his only shoes. They were a size and a half too large and the laces were knotted together to make them long enough to tie. Dudley had thrown them to Harry after making certain that the soles were tearing away from the leathers, and flapped when Harry walked unless he shuffled. He had thought that the first thing he would buy when he left Privet Drive for good was a top-quality pair of trainers. He would have done so before now, if he hadn't been afraid of his uncle's reaction to anything new. He would be questioned relentlessly about any purchases and Harry was determined that Vernon would never find out about the money his parents had left him.
Giving a disgusted snort, he threw himself back to lay on the bed. He was disgusted by his weakness in this. With his wand, he was a powerful wizard. But without it, he was nothing. He was supposed to be here in the summer because it was safe from Voldemort. But what was going to keep him safe from his relatives? Why was he forced to return here year after year? Granted, after the first few refusals, Harry had not tried very hard to convince Dumbledore. The man was a top mage, for Merlin's sake! Surely he could see, could know, how Harry was treated here. Harry waffled back and forth between wanting to believe that Dumbledore had no real idea or he would whisk him away from this, and believing that Dumbledore knew but didn't care about anything more than keeping his 'weapon' safe behind the blood wards.
From downstairs his cousin yelled, "Come on, freak! It's Harry Hunting time!" followed by the uproarious laughter of the two bullies who hung around with him.
Maybe they'd just beat up on him a little. If he was fast enough in these bloody shoes, maybe he would out run them and stay hidden long enough for them to lose interest in the hunt. Maybe….