Love's Keen Disregard

Chapter 2, The Giant And the wardrobe.

A/N Any mistakes, yadda, yadda, yadda… Don't own Harry Potter… Do own the plot and any characters I may make… On a more exiting note (well, for me, anyway.) I got my first comment, so if you're reading this, random person, thank you! Use my plot without my permission, and I'll… I'll… report you! So… Beware! Oh, and it rated M just so all the content's covered. And I don't have to worry about any sensitive minds being damaged and then someone sues me for mind rape or something.

Harry stared at the parchment in front of him, his bright green eyes to and throw, checking if he'd read correctly. When he was defiantly sure he had, he pinched his leg, hard. Nope. Not dreaming. So he was forced to accept that he was a wizard…

Oh… all the years he'd missed out on… turning Uncle Vernon into what he was truly destined to be; a big, fat, pig… trashing the house to send Aunt petunia into hysterics… terrorising Dudley by vanishing all the food…

There was a bellow of "BOY!" Harry quickly stuffed his letter under his sheets. He'd just plonked down onto his bed, trying and obviously failing to look as casual as possible, when his Uncle stuck his piggy head round the door and said, no bellowed.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Harry winced at the loud voice inside his tiny bedroom, as spiders fell down off the ceiling. "YOU NEED TO BE TAUGHT A LESSON, BOY!"

He grabbed Harry by the hair and dragged him out into the hallway. When the first blow rained down on him, all harry could think of was, at least they didn't find the letter… He retreated back into is mind, barely aware that Uncle Vernon was kicking him with as much force as possible. Just when Harry thought it would never end, it did. He felt an iron tight grip on his arm as he felt himself being pulled up. He didn't really know what was going on. His mind was a haze.

The next thing he knew, he was staring into darkness. He did what he always did after his beatings, he listened. That always told him what to do next. He couldn't hear anything exempt from a faint buzzing noise. Okay, listening was out. He tried not to panic, why couldn't he hear anything? He brought his hand up to his tear and tenderly felt it, it felt sticky. And harry knew that familiar sticky sensation all too well: Blood. The next thing Harry knew he has to do was to clear up in injuries. Years of beatings had taught him how to be very good at self first aid. To clear up his injuries he had to use what was around him. To do that he had to get out of where ever Uncle Vermin had put him. He allowed himself a small chuckle at the nickname he'd given his Uncle. He put his hand out and met something solid. Harry ran his hand over it. It felt like wood. Suddenly, harry knew where he was. Uncle Vernon had put him in the wardrobe, locked the door and left.

This was his favourite punishment for Harry. He could confine harry for as long as he wanted. And Harry knew that shouting and making noise would only earn him another beating and even longer time in the wardrobe. Harry thought back the pathiecticness of it all. He'd actually bought a wardrobe to put Harry in when he 'needed to be taught a lesson.' The wardrobe was perfect for a punishment wardrobe. It was narrow, so Harry couldn't sit down and it had a lock on it so Harry couldn't get out.

Harry got through his punishment by thinking, not paying attention to when his feet hurt from standing, when he grew tired, hungry or thirsty. Harry knew he could sleep standing if it came to it, because he once did just that, when Uncle Vernon opened the door and found Harry sleeping… but Harry pushed that way from his mind and thought about things that would get him through this. The letter… his parents, and what they would say to find their only son being treated this way...the letter, again… and how it could offer him his ticket out of here. His parents… the letter…

Harry had fallen asleep. He woke up to footsteps, hurriedly trying to shake the sleepy look out if his eyes. There as a blinding light, and the short bark of "Out!"

Harry naturally obeyed the voice that had tortured him for so many years, and stepped out of his prison. As his eyes came into focus, he saw that it was a beautiful day; he hoped Uncle Vernon sent him outside to do some work. Harry thought he's be doing work of some kind and so, was surprised when he said "Go to the kitchen. There's some food. Eat it as fast as you can and go to your cupboard." This was even better he was being fed, and he was going to be able to read the rest of his letter.

He went to the kitchen without showing his Uncle how sore his muscles were from standing for so long. He knew his uncle would be looking for weaknesses.

Harry reflected on the fact that Uncle Vernon hadn't taught him anything, but how to survive with what you've got. As he put half of his plain cheese sandwich in his pocket to save for when he really need it. Harry had taught himself to always look on the bright side of any situation. If there was no bright side that he could see, he just dealt with it, and that was what he had been doing for so many years; dealing.

He gulped down his waster, not realising how thirsty he was. He sighed as it relived his parched throat. Without looking like he wanted to go there, Harry headed to his cupboard.

As soon as he shut the door, he felt for the letter. When he found it, he eagerly pulled it out. Reading what he needed. He was amazed. Then, his heart plummeted. How was he going to get all of this without the Dursleys knowing? What's more, they would never pay for any of this. Harry thought and thought. He couldn't see a way around this, so Harry did what he always did when this kind of thing happened. He prayed that it would sort its self out.

Weeks went by, and just when Harry had lost all hope that this wouldn't just 'sort its self out' There was a knock at the door. Someone would have usually made Harry get it, but seeing as he was still bruised form his latest beating, Aunt Petunia got it. From his cupboard, Harry heard her surprised shriek.

"Sorry ma'am. Din' mean ter scare yeh." Said a friendly voice. "I'm 'ere ter speak ter yeh 'usband hand 'arry if yeh don' mind." Harry's heart leapt. Was the situation about to sort its self out?

"Ha- Harry's out at the Park with his cousin." She stammered.

"Don' lie ter me. I can feel 'is magic. Now move outta' my way. I wanna speak to 'arry." Harry marvelled how that friendly voice could instantly turn cold. He heard the angry grunt of his Aunt has she was shunted aside.

"Go an' get 'im Dursley, or I'll do it me self."

The man's words were met by silence. "Fine. Yeh give me no choice."

Harry heard heavy footsteps, and his door was pulled open. He the man's gasp in honest horror as he took in his bruised appearance, and the cramped space in which he spent most of his time.

Yay another chapter down, just thought I'd comment on the quality of my writing. When I sit down at the computer, I have no idea what the next chapter's gonna include, I just write whatever comes to mind. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll update whenever I can, but college work comes first I'm afraid.