Haja

Chapter 2

He should have refused to leave the house. He should have gone to Aunt Petunia and demanded that she keep Dudley away. He should have reminded her that Dumbledore would find out and he would be angry with her.

He should have fought back while he was still in the neighborhood, within sight of the neighbors the Dursleys wanted so desperately to impress; the ones they wanted to keep their nephew 's secret from. Then Dudley might have had some limitations on his actions.

He should have begged Dumbledore to let him stay with Ron at the Burrow. He should've confessed the embarrassment that his own family treated him like a house elf and worse. Now that he knew what 'normal' was, how a real family was supposed to treat a child, he knew that the Dursleys were not normal in how they treated Harry. They never had been. What he had taken for normal was nothing but abuse. They hated him with every waking moment and likely dreamed up ways of making him miserable in their sleep. He knew now that they were paid each month from a trust fund; money that was to be used for his necessities, like clothing, school supplies, medical care. It was not apparent to him that the money had ever been spent on him. Certainly, he had never had new clothes or shoes, except times when Dudley's old ones were simply too ripped or worn to be decent. Then, Petunia begrudgingly went to the second-hand store to get him the cheapest items she could find. If she had taken Harry and Dudley along for the trip, she and Dudley got ice cream afterwards while Harry waited in the car pretending to be invisible and not interested in treats like ice cream.

He wished that he had studied harder when he, Hermione and Ron were working on their animagus forms. He wished he had worked harder at learning wandless magic. He was uncertain if wandless magic could be detected by the Ministry, though. The scare with the Dementors had been enough to make him hesitate to try it. After all, he only had to endure for the time Dumbledore said was necessary until the wards had been satisfied.

Yes, his ribs hurt, and his lungs were nearly bursting underneath. Piers had stuck him with a switchblade when he had gotten close enough and Harry was certain that it had penetrated through the ribs and into his right lung. The shirts he was wearing were blood-soaked on that side.

He had fallen over the shoes more than once and had the nasty scrapes and bruises for it. His left ankle felt as if he had twisted it.

******

Dudley had slung an arm over Harry's shoulders when he had finally come downstairs to their calls. "You're worse than a girl with taking your time to get ready. And look at you; you didn't even dress up for my birthday." He shook his head mockingly. "I'm very disappointed, Harry. You could have made a small effort to make my birthday more memorable." The arm squeezed him roughly before pushing him away. Dudley turned to his father. "We're leaving now. We'll be back before it's time to leave for the movies."

Shoving Harry in front of the group, they made their way out of the house. At the door, Vernon called, "Have fun Dudley. I'm sure your cousin will cooperate. If he doesn't, he'll have me to deal with when you get home."

As they walked down Privet Drive in the direction of the park, the boys surrounding him were loudly jovial, and had been acting as if this was like any other summer day outing. Dudley had an old backpack on that clanked when he shifted it on his back. When Harry eyed it, Dudley had just smirked and sent him along with a shove.

As they passed Mrs. Figg's house, Harry looked closely, hoping for a glimpse of her, hoping that she might see and report that Harry was being escorted away from the house. But the curtains were drawn and the door closed.

*******

Through the trees, Harry could hear them closing in on him again. Standing, he grimaced at the pain the movement caused in his ankle and side. The grimace caused the split lip and bloody nose to bleed afresh and he reached up to blot it with the hem of his shirt. He had forgotten about those small hurts that Dudley had delivered when Harry had tried to refuse to run.

"The game is called Harry Hunting, freak. If you don't run, we can't hunt!" The comment had been punctuated by the one -two punch of Dudley's fists and Harry had run off into the woods that bordered the park.

Dudley had punched him often enough before that the discomfort from the lip and nose was barely registered beyond the inconvenience of the blood on one of his shirts. Even old shirts were better than nothing and Harry kept them as clean as he could so that he at least had that comfort. Blood stains were hard to get out completely and Petunia didn't like seeing his clothes lying in a sink or in the bathtub soaking.

This shirt had been ripped anyway, both by the thorny briars he was running through, and the switchblade attack. They were a loss, but he couldn't dwell on that now.

If he kept ahead of them long enough, he thought maybe they would tire of the 'game' and go back to the house. Maybe more time had gone by than Harry realized and they would be ready to go to the promised movie.

Feet crashed through the undergrowth and Harry looked around to find better cover. There was a briar-covered deadfall where several fallen trees had encouraged a dense tangle of foliage. It would be painful, but maybe it would deter them from coming after him. He scrambled down onto his belly and began to make his way through a small opening in the brambles. A shout behind him told him he had been seen by Dudley as he called to the other two boys.

Harry hurried faster, thorns gouging him everywhere it seemed as a refrain began to go through his mind. 'I must be smaller, I must be smaller, I need to be smaller, I need to be smaller—'

Suddenly, he seemed to slip right through the vegetation and he found himself covered with moldy leaves. Behind him, he heard a surprised exclamation from Dudley. Digging himself deeper into the leaves, Harry realized that his hands were not hands anymore, but were, in fact, paws. Black, furry paws.

A surprised squeak escaped him, but he quickly realized that he must have managed his animagus transformation in the stress of dire need and fear. He wasn't a snake as he had thought, with the slitted pupils, but a cat of some kind. A rush of joy filled him. He did it! Now he would be able to run faster away from the boys. It would be easier to hide until they lost interest. Besides, if he was reading the surprise from Dudley correctly, his cousin would not be in any hurry to try and explain why the freak was now a cat.

Harry hoped he was a big cat. He could see that he had sharp claws as he scrambled into the leaves. He had a weapon of his own now!

The burst of exhilaration was short-lived as he felt himself grabbed and hauled back out of the leaves and briars in a tight grasp.

Hissing and clawing instinctively, he twisted and tried to bite the hand that held him. His sharp teeth only tasted leather for a few seconds before he was shoved into Dudleys backpack and the opening zipped tight.

The backpack swung in an arc before it felt like it was smashed into a tree. The injuries he had received as a human were still there and now he felt as if every bone in his body had been crunched by this impact. Outside the backpack, he heard Dudley murmur, "Caught you, you little freak. They don't have to know it's you… but this is even better than Harry Hunting. Do you know what we've done to cats when we've caught them before? Cats are sneaky little rat-eaters. They'll just as soon bite as anything else. But guess what, freak? You won't get the chance to bite anything ever again. When I tell Dad what you are, what you became, he'll be glad I got rid of you like I have all those other nasty cats in the neighborhood. He'll be glad. And no one will know it was really you!"

Harry felt the bag swinging again and braced himself for another blow, but this time it felt as if Dudley had merely settled it onto his shoulder. Dudley called out to his friends and they soon met up, Dudley explaining how Harry had gotten away, but that he had caught a cat instead. The other boys poked at the bag, punching it and making Harry hiss and yowl in pain as his injuries were aggravated.

Laughter accompanied the swinging of the bag as the boys walked, until Harry thought he would be sick. He had to gather his wits so he would be ready when the bag was opened again. He had to be ready to run. But what had Dudley meant by those 'other cats'?

A wave of fear washed over him as he recalled that Dudley always carried the backpack when he and his friends went on their 'outings'. Dudley had been prepared. He had leather gloves to hold whatever animal they happened to catch. It sounded as if cats were the preferred prey. Now, he also remembered Mrs. Figg worrying about some of her cats that had gone missing. Harry was afraid that he knew who had been responsible for their being missing.

Dudley had said that Vernon wouldn't care about him getting rid of another nasty cat because no one would know it was him. Well, he would just have to change back into a human form then. Maybe the Ministry would know and maybe they wouldn't, but like the use of his Patronus, this was a matter of life or death. It was clear that Dudley meant to get rid of him. He wouldn't be able to do that if he changed back, and it would be a rude surprise for him and his friends as well. He would just have to deal with whatever the consequences were for transforming in front of Muggles. Compared to what Dudley might be planning, Azkaban might be better.

Could he change back while still in the bag? Harry visualized bursting the seams of the backpack as he became human again and that cheered him a little. He could be like those comics Dudley liked to read, the ones about The Incredible Hulk. Too bad he couldn't make himself green while he did it. That would really give the bullies a shock!

He began to concentrate on the shift back, trying to ignore the nauseating swing of the bag as the boys traveled along. Every once in awhile, one of them would punch at the bag again, keeping Harry from focusing continuously. He knew he had to get a clear picture of the transformation in his mind, but that was proving to be as difficult as the text had warned, now that he was in animal form.

The feel of the bag dropping to the ground was another kind of jarring to his battered body, and Harry tensed, realizing that they had stopped, possibly arriving at whatever place they went to when they 'got rid of cats'. He gathered himself up, getting ready to spring out the moment the bag was unzipped.

But instead of a clear opening, only a hole large enough to shove a gloved hand into appeared. The glove was a very tough sort of work glove, the leather too thick to allow anything like cat claws or teeth to get through, though Harry tried fiercely. The hand had accurately grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and now held him tightly in the air.

The boys hooted and yelled at the cat's fighting. The other gloved hand came up and grabbed the hind legs to stop the twisting of the cat and Dudley now held him immobile for the boys' inspection.

"He's pretty scrawny, Dud. That must be why he was so easy for you to catch."

"He fights good, though. Looks like he has a lot of energy. It should take a good long time this time."

Dudley's face came closer to Harry and he grinned down at the cat he held. "Yeah. I hope it takes a good long time. That last one drowned too quick."

Drowned? Harry struggled again. Drowned? Harry remembered Aunt Marge telling about how she sometimes had to get rid of sickly puppies by putting them in a bag and tossing them in the farm pond. Was that what Dudley meant to do? That meant he needed to change back quickly! He tried to concentrate again, but the animal fear in him was not allowing his thoughts to do anything but respond in abject terror.

He didn't go back into the bag, though. Instead, he felt himself launched into the air. For a few moments, he twisted and turned, trying to get the unfamiliar body under some sort of control for a landing. Then he was shocked by the impact into cold water that rushed over his head.

Struggling to the top, he gulped in a lungful of air, laced with water. Water was in his cat ears and he tried to shake it out so he could hear. Then he could hear the laughter of the boys, and that made the terror even worse. They were cheering! They were enjoying seeing a helpless animal try to save itself!

He had to swim, because the water was deeper than he could stand, as he found out when he tried. His cat paws weren't made for swimming, and he had to paddle furiously to keep his head above the water. He paddled for the shore away from the boys and focused on getting there. As he dragged himself up onto the muddy edge, the gloved hand seized him again and flung him far back out into the water.

Again, the water closed over his head. This time, he didn't waste the energy to shake the water from his ears. He simply obeyed the instinct to swim as hard as he could toward the shallow water, to the shore of the pond away from where the boys stood. For now he knew where he was. This was the pond that was in the center of the wooded park. A joggers trail wound around it. Sometimes he had gone there, pretending it was the lake at Hogwarts and that the giant squid was just under the surface. Sometimes he found a water snake to talk to for awhile. The pond wasn't very isolated, but it wasn't close to where large groups of people tended to be when at the park. Right now, the boys and the black cat were alone.

He made it back to the mud again, and struggled as it sucked his paws down into the muck. Before he made it to higher and drier ground, Dudley was back, having run around the edge of the pond when he saw where the cat was headed. The gloved hands yanked him up. He yowled and sputtered from the water he had swallowed and tried to bite the hands. His teeth sank into one of the glove thumbs and he held onto it. This time, when he was flung out into the water, the glove came too.

For a moment, Harry tried to climb on top of the glove, but it sank quickly, too heavy to stay afloat with his added weight on it. His mind was numb from fear, and he could no longer hope to focus enough for a return to his human form. His feline form was in terror for its life, and he simply had to keep swimming. Some part of him found a moment to wonder at the sociopathic bent of his cousin. He knew he was mean and selfish, but he had never thought that Dudley could be this cruel.

Again and again, he swam to shore. Again and again, Dudley picked him up and threw him back. Each time it took longer to struggle to the pond edge. His legs were so fatigued that he couldn't tell if his swimming efforts were coordinated or not. He had never learned to swim in his human form. You couldn't count the Triwizard Tournament. Then, he had the benefit of Gillyweed and had fins and gills. Now he was an animal that wasn't well equipped for swimming beyond the occasional accidental dunking.

Harry no longer fought when Dudley scooped him up, so now the other two boys took turns with their bare hands throwing him as far out into the water as they could. Now, when he went under, it seemed as if each time must surely be the last time he would make it to the surface. The human part of his brain wondered why he was still fighting. Why was he giving Dudley the satisfaction of seeing him try to survive. But the cat was driven to keep trying.

Dimly, he heard more yelling as he was almost to the shore again. Part of him realized that if they threw him back, he would simply sink beneath the water's surface and be unable to fight anymore. He was so tired. The paddling of his paws was mostly ineffectual now, and he made little headway with the uncoordinated pulling at the water. He was barely keeping his nose and eyes above the top to see where he was going and to draw burning, ragged breaths into exhausted lungs.

When his feet hit the shallows and he touched bottom, he collapsed, taking a breath of water as his head went under when his legs wouldn't support him. It was an impossible effort to raise his head again, so he simply laid there, waiting for hands to pick him up and throw him for what he knew would be the last time.

Hands scooped him up and he didn't even tense. He couldn't even open his eyes anymore. Vaguely, he registered surprise when he was wrapped in something dry, his legs arranged to be up next to his body and not dangling. His face was wiped gently and he felt warm air against his muzzle. That made him inhale sharply and the water in his throat made him choke. The hands rubbed his side briskly and it seemed to help him expel the remaining water. The rubbing hurt his other injuries and an almost inaudible mew gurgled out of his throat. He managed a weak shake of his head to try and clear the water from his ears.

He laid his head back down without opening his eyes. If this was Dudley trying to get him to rally before the last throw he was in for disappointment. Harry couldn't do it anymore. Dudley had won. He drifted off into darkness of sight and sound and then unconsciousness.

*******

Albus paced his office in front of the fireplace as the portraits looked on. It was taking too long. Why hadn't Severus returned by now? He had been gone for three hours! Was Harry perhaps hurt after all?

He had been notified immediately when Harry had left the wards. It was unfortunate that everyone who usually took watch were tied up in other duties. He had rallied several Order members and they had descended on Privet drive within fifteen minutes of the alarm. It had now passed three hours and no one had reported in.

He was just about to throw floo powder into the flames and go to Arabella Figg's home himself when the flames turned green and Severus's head appeared.

"Albus… I'm coming through in a moment. Call for Poppy and Hagrid, as well."

"Is Harry—"

"There's no time to explain. You'll see when I bring him. Just get Poppy and Hagrid." Severus responded impatiently. His head disappeared and Albus firecalled the two Severus had requested before he resumed waiting.

In a few more minutes the flames turned green again and Severus stepped into the room, followed closely by Arabella Figg. Severus held a box in his hands and he turned back to the fireplace to set it on the hearth.

Albus stepped nearer. "Where is Harry?"

Severus was bent over the box and Albus leaned over his shoulder to see that a small black cat lay in the bottom in the bottom of it, partially covered by a tea towel.

Poppy and Hagrid entered the office in time to hear Arabella say softly, "I think that is Harry."

Severus motioned to Hagrid and Poppy and they knelt beside him over the box. The cat was barely breathing and that was in a labored way. The fur looked like it had been wet and was just now drying. There were deep scratches on the muzzle and a particularly nasty wound on the side they could see.

Albus asked, "Why do you think that's Harry? Was he cursed by someone? Deatheaters?"

Arabella spoke up quickly, "That boy Dudley and his gang have been tormenting my cats and others in Little Whinging. I know he's killed a couple of mine at least. So I've been watching him."

Albus looked at her when she hesitated. "What leads you to believe that this cat is Harry? It could be just a stray."

Arabella shook her head. "Dudley's gang was chasing Harry today. I saw them at the wooded park where the path is. Dudley had already given the boy a bloody nose and lip, I saw. I was going to go to his house and demand that fat oaf of a father to go put a stop to it. Then I saw them chase Harry into the woods and one of them yelled, 'Time for Harry Hunting!'"

Hagrid was stroking gently down the cats' side and they all saw the minute flinch when he neared the wounded area. " 'S broken ribs here. Might've punched his lung."

Poppy waved her wand carefully over the small patient. "I didn't know Harry was an animagus."

Her comment was met with surprise and she explained, "I can detect that this is a cat under an animagus transformation. It's a familiar signature and similar to the one I've seen when Minerva is in her cat form." She passed the wand over the cat again. "Hagrid is right. Some ribs are broken, and one of the back legs is fractured. This is a puncture wound in its side. He's quite a battered fellow." She gently placed the tip of her wand at the site and murmured a spell. "I've sealed the tear in the lung. I'm not certain how to treat the ribs…how much potion to give to an animal or if it's even something they can tolerate."

Hagrid nodded his head and clapped her on the shoulder, almost toppling her into Severus. "Ya jus' give 'em a tiny amount Madame. A wee dropper full is all this one needs,"

They could see that the breathing of the animal was less labored now that the lung had been dealt with. Albus feared that they were focusing their efforts in the wrong place. Harry could still be in danger somewhere.

"I am not at all certain that this is Harry. As Poppy said, no one was aware that he was an animagus. I would have known if he was."

Severus motioned the Headmaster forward so he could peer down into the box. He gently lifted the cat's head so that Albus had a view of the whole face. There on the forehead between the closed eyes was a small blaze of white fur in the shape of a lightning bolt.

********

A/N: The scene at the pond is a nod to one of my favorite authors, Stephen King. I read a story of his a long time ago and it had this very disturbing scene where a boy would not let a cat reach the shore and kept pushing it back out into the water until it drowned. That was a nightmare starter! But then most of King's work is from his own dreams, I hear. I've been looking for it to credit the title, but I haven't found it yet. I'll let you know when I get it! (I've looked around a bit more and still cannot find it. It's possible that it was another horror author, like Koontz. I'll credit it when I find it!)

I apologize if this was too disturbing for some. But I am not, nor have I ever been, someone who is cruel to animals. So please don't flame me for this! I needed a catalyst for the basis of the story. (Catalyst…pun intended!)

I am not certain of the direction this fic will take. At least at the first it will be a HP/SS mentor story. It may become more later on.

It is AU beginning 6th year. References may be made to past canon events and some current and future canon events may be incorporated.

I own nothing of JK Rowling's work. I am only playing with the characters. No profit is involved.