Chapter 6: Give It Your Best Shot

Uncle Vernon turned around and looked him with a face full of thunder which caused his body to flood with pure terror and Dudley to flee from the hall with his mum, into the dining room. "YOU HAVE BEHAVED IN A FOUL MANNER TODAY!" he exploded "HOW DARE YOU TELL MY PARENTS YOU ARE NOT UNGRATEFUL? HOW DARE YOU! YOU ARE A DISRESPECTFUL LITTLE BASTARD. YOU JUST FIDDLED WITH THE FOOD YOUR AUNT COOKED YOU, PICKED AT IT THEN TOLD MY MOTHER YOU DIDN'T HAVE AN APPETITE"

"But I don't" said Harry "I can barely eat anything because my body's gotten used to living off absolutely nothing. Because you've been starving me ever since I can remember!"

"YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SOD!" Roared Uncle Vernon "THEN YOU RAN OFF WHILE WE WERE STILL EATING BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU WERE GOING TO BE SICK. YOU FILTHY LITTLE LIAR. YOU TRIED TO GO UPSTAIRS FOR A LIE DOWN AND A NAP! BECAUSE YOU'RE AN UNSOCIABLE LITTLE BASTARD THEN YOU WENT OUT FOR A WALK BECAUSE YOU COULDN'T BE BOTHERED TO BE SOCIABLE AND WANTED TO BE DELIBERATELY DISRESPECTFUL TO MY FAMILY"

"I was feeling ill" Harry defended himself "I didn't want to be vomiting but I guess I can't help it. And if you insist on starving me then making me eat something my body clearly won't be able to cope with then of course I'm going to be sick and want to lie down! And I didn't do it to be disrespectful to any of them."

"LIAR" he thundered "YOU LIE BOY. YOU HAVE PUSHED ME TOO FAR!"

Harry exploded with rage inside his head. He really had some nerve, the things Harry did that provoked him were tiny and ridiculously stupid. He'd lose it over nothing and take it too far. He did everything he could not to antagonise him but everything he did, however small, provoked him into hurting him. He was pushing Harry too far. "I've pushed you too far have I?" he snapped "You beat me whenever you feel like it and I never complain about it. Never. You think I just exist to annoy you, so you knock me around and think its ok. You're not the one who's being pushed. I AM!"

"DON'T YOU DARE BACKCHAT ME LIKE THAT!" He rose his hand above his head.

"No!" Harry cried. But it was too little too late the hand had collided with his face. The force was hard enough to knock him to the ground. He started kicking his already badly bruised abdomen whilst Harry howled in pain. He moved his head and saw Dudley peering through a gap in the door at what was happening. He could see the pain he was in and the tears that flowed down his cheeks. So why wasn't he helping?

Then harry felt that familiar searing pain of the leather cutting deep into his skin. The pain was indescribable and with every blow he howled louder and louder. He was screaming hysterically, in agony and no one was helping. Death would be more pleasant, definitely more final. As the lashing continued and the pain worsened, he thought about what it would be like to be dead. And that's when he realised that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to be dead. If he was dead no one would be able to hurt him anymore, especially uncle Vernon, he would haunt him until the day he died too. To punish him for all the things he done to him, for what he'd put him through.

There was a high pitched noise, that sound like screaming but it wasn't his. Then the searing pains suddenly stopped. Harry looked up at Uncle Vernon. He was staring into the doorway, a haunted expression upon his beefy face. He put the belt back in his trousers and moved into the living room. Harry stared into the doorway and something flickered. It looked like people had just appeared and vanished again. Children. Finally the searing pains of being hit stopped and he was left lying in the middle of the hall. By now he had stopped crying, he was just shaking violently. He couldn't move, the pain was so bad. He just lay there, paralyzed by fear and absolute agony. He'd rather be dead. Soon the Dursleys headed to bed but in the early hours footsteps came down the stairs and someone said his name. It was Dudley "Potter you ok?" he asked very quietly

"No Dudley I'm not ok" he replied, still shaking like crazy "I was whipped with a belt… just look at it for yourself." He moved a bit and Dudley pushed his shirt up. He gasped rather loudly then decided to touch one and not very delicately either. "Dudley!" Harry cried in agony "Don't do that! It hurts!"

"Potter your back is all cut up" said Dudley

"I know. Your dad did it because I deserved to be punished" replied Harry distantly.

Dudley offered him support and helped him up to bed. He was grateful but he didn't sleep much. He was in so much pain. The following day he was left out of the trip to Dudley's grandparent's house and remained in his room, though he hadn't been deadlocked in. while they were gone he went into the cupboard and got a load of books out, all of his parchment, his quill and the two unopened ink bottles. He took them back to his room where he used them to write replies to Ron and Hermione's letters. He had to put a cryptic message in there. He couldn't be blatant with it as Hermione had told him they were checking all mail and he didn't want them knowing his private life. So he told them he was enjoying his time with the Dursleys and things like that then sent Hedwig off with them. He stored the rest of the stuff under the lose floorboard.

And just like always his hair had grown back overnight. He was so relieved, he wasn't going to have to go back to school bald and be a moving target for the bullies.

When the Dursleys returned they were none the wiser he'd been near that cupboard and gotten some things out.

On the twenty-eighth he headed round to Georgie's house, still in considerable pain from his latest beating. He did his best to conceal his extreme discomfort but they were wasted on Georgie. She knew something was seriously wrong. And then she saw it. Patterson and Bobby were being right dicks today. They were on the trampoline and bobby shoved Patterson right into harry who subsequently was knocked off the trampoline landing on his back causing him to let out an almighty bloodcurdling scream. Georgie came running out of her house. "What happened?!

"Bobby shoved me and I knocked him off by accident!" said Patterson jumping off the trampoline and rushing over. "He didn't land that hard"

Harry looked up at him. "You've have no idea mate. Just what's under this shirt" he thought angrily. He pulled himself to his feet but the pain was indescribable. He landed on the place he'd been repeatedly whipped. That was absolutely agonising. He went back inside with Georgie. She made them drinks and they headed to her front room to talk. Her family were all out thank god. But as they went to sit down she noticed something on Harry's shirt. "Harry you're bleeding. I think you might've landed on something and cut yourself"

"Its fine" he lied

"No really" she said insistently "Let me take a look"

"No" he shook his head

"Why not?" she frowned. What was he hiding under there that was so bad? She'd seen bloody skin before. "Harry what is going on? You're always like this when someone asks if you're ok!"

"I am" he replied angrily

"No you're not" she stated "Harry, you've got a split lip for Christ sakes you didn't get that here. Now tell me what the hell is going on"

"No!" he refused angrily.

She had to know so she touched his back and he flinched away, wincing in agony. She did it again. Then she took the bottom of his shirt and lifted it up. She only saw a tiny bit before he slapped her hands away. But what she had seen made her feel utterly horrified. "Harry" she said uncomfortably "What the hell are those?"

"Nothing, they're nothing" he replied, he didn't want to talk about this or for her to know.

"They're not nothing" she shook her head "Please tell me. I'll understand"

"No you won't" he looked down at the floor "Nobody will understand this"

"I'll give my best shot" she reassured "Tell me Harry, I am your friend. I took you under my wing and introduced you to my friends. I really like you and I wouldn't mind if you showed me some trust and honesty. You've lied all the other cuts and bruises away but this one, you can't lie your way out"

"I'm ok I swear" he lied "There's nothing wrong. I haven't lied about anything Georgie. Leave it alone"

"No I won't leave it alone!" she narrowed her eyes. "Tell me the truth. Everybody at school thinks you have problems and no one understands you or what the hell goes on inside your head!"

"I don't know what goes on inside my head!" he snapped "It spins around all day and I feel all these different things but I don't have a clue what the hell is going on!"

"You tell me what happened that night because what you told us happened was a lie!" she retorted. "We went to the park and we walked home. You were only five minutes away from your house. I don't think anyone jumped you so what the hell happened?"

"It's none of your business!" he shouted "It's my business and I wish it wasn't my business. I don't need to dump it on you!"

"I want you to dump it on me" she replied.

"And I don't want to." he looked down to the floor calming himself down. "Look Georgie I do have problems and they're my personal problems. You try having no parents and guardians who despise you. A cousin who made sure he and his friends bullied from nursery until leaving primary school… what problems do people I have?"

"People think you have an eating disorder" she admitted uncomfortably "Not me or any of us, just almost everybody else in our year"

"Why?" he frowned.

"Well you don't eat that much" she sighed "And you're really skinny. People say isn't natural and that you must have an eating disorder. They don't say it to your face, just behind your back in a very bitchy way."

"Oh great" he felt his fists clench slightly "Just what I needed to hear. I had the worst Christmas in history and I find out everybody in our year thinks I have an eating disorder"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you" she said.

"It's fine" he sighed. "Sorry for snapping at you. I don't know what's going on inside my head"

He left a while later, after they'd all had dinner. Fish and chips cooked by Georgie, Harry and Patterson. Bobby and Kyle had been making dessert. That turned out to be angel delight topped with all different kinds of sweeties. Thankfully it actually tasted much better than it looked because it looked like one of them had vomited into the bowl.

He took his time walking home, anything to reduce the amount of time he spent in the same house as uncle Vernon. The streets were pretty dead, deserted and desolate. He didn't see anyone else walking along, well except for this man, who was clearly drunk, with a dog that kept barking very loudly. This drunk man had come up to him and asked him for money and he'd told him to get lost, which he had. Hands deep inside his pockets he sidled back home, his clothes rubbing against his back and making it exceedingly uncomfortable for him to walk at a relatively decent speed. Yawning he turned down Privet Drive, which seemed more desolate than all the roads before it. He walked down Privet Drive, lined with pristine lawns, complete with perfectly trimmed flowers, carefully-cut-exceptionally-green-grass and little water fountains. For some reason he'd never much cared for this neatness of lawns and homes most people in the street seemed to accommodate. He preferred things a little less tidy, like the Weasley's home. Their garden wasn't tidy, but it looked like it was being used and like they were growing something there. It looked what a garden should look like. And their house was never that tidy, then again it wouldn't be with (always) more than seven people living there during the holidays, but it looked like a home it looked lived in. Somewhere he would want to live. He'd already decided when he left the dursleys and got a home of his own it would never be as freakishly clean as their home. It would look lived in. it didn't even look like Dudley or he lived there because there were no sign of anything that would belong to teenagers lying around downstairs, or in the garden. Not that he had many possessions anyway. If he had children of his own, he wouldn't hide anything that belonged to them out of the sight of others. He'd embrace them. Though the way things were going at the moment he was unlikely to live long enough to meet a nice girl to settle down with, marry and have children with; because if uncle Vernon didn't tone down his starvations and beatings, he was going to find himself with a dead child on his hands.

Harry stopped walking for a moment and thought what it would be like to be free of this all, free of his aunt and uncle; of uncle Vernon's violent beatings, of him whipping him with that leather belt, of being starved. But freedom seemed so very far away right now. Sighing he started walking again. The fact remained though, that even if he did leave he had nowhere else to go. He was not allowed to go back to 12 Grimmauld Place or go to the burrow; if he did he knew the consequences would be severe. He had been told by minister for magic, Cornelius Fudge, if he did he would be arrested and sent to Azkaban for the rest of his life, which as a wizard was longer than that of a muggle, so that could be over a hundred years. But then again it sounded more appealing; at least they fed you there. And at least the dementors wouldn't beat him senseless… just suck out his soul.

Arriving at the front door of 4 Privet Drive, he pushed his key into the front door and turned it in the lock. He pushed the front door open. He could hear the TV playing loudly in the living room and then he heard Dudley laughing. Pushing the door closed he saw Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's coats were missing from their hooks. He didn't have a hook; he kept his things upstairs and out of everybody's way. He went into the living room where Dudley was sat in his favourite armchair watching TV, stuffing his face with chocolate and sweets. "Hey Big D" said Harry.

"Potter" he replied shortly.

"Can I have some of those?" he gestured to Dudley's sweets.

"No" replied Dudley "These are mine, gran gave them to me on Boxing Day"

"Can I watch this with you?" he asked.

"I guess" shrugged Dudley. He was far too interested in the TV and his sweets and his enormous chocolate bar. Harry sat down on the sofa furthest from Dudley and looked at the screen, he hadn't watched TV for a very long time. He could've on Christmas Day but there'd been nowhere to sit and Uncle Vernon had hissed into his ear that he wasn't allowed to. But he wasn't overly interested in it. Dudley made no effort to make conversation though he did have another question. "Where are your parents?"

"They went out" replied Dudley "Dad said he needed a new belt to hit you with"

"That's not funny" Harry narrowed his eyes at Dudley's grinning face. How even Dudley could think him being whipped was funny, was beyond him. Then again he was Dudley, it shouldn't really shock him.

"They went out to see Dads friend from work in hospital" said Dudley "He didn't say when they were coming home"

Harry nodded; he could stay downstairs and watch TV, for a change. Without being barked at, ordered around or whacked. And Dudley didn't seem to care; he had his sweets and his chocolate.

The moment he heard Uncle Vernon's car pulling into the driveway he flew upstairs to his bedroom and closed the door. Being as it was now really late he turned in for the night, though falling asleep wasn't overly easy due to his back being covered in welts and lacerations that kept bleeding everywhere and all of the time.

The next day he remained up there where it was safest for him, out of everyone's way. Even when he went down for tea he did as he was told and didn't talk. Didn't complain about his ridiculously small portion and ate, rather savoured every bite. Then after he had done all the washing up he went back upstairs and remained there.

Having slid upstairs and out of his Uncle's way he went into his bedroom and laid on his bed. He heard tapping at the window. Getting up he saw Hedwig at the window. He opened the window and let her in. "Hey girl" he smiled stroking her head. She had a parcel attached to her leg. He untied it and sat down on his bed. The brown package had a small note attached to it. "To Harry from Ron & Hermione" the note read. He unwrapped the package and smiled. "Quidditch legends of the last two centuries" that sounded like it would be a good read. There was a letter inside the package. It was written Hermione's exceptionally neat handwriting. Dear Harry. Good to hear you're getting ok with your muggle relatives.

His heart sank; they hadn't understood the cryptic message in his letter. He'd never gotten on with them, he'd told Ron and Hermione they were not nice and that they hated him, though this was as far as he'd taken it. He read the rest of the letter, but he didn't really pay much attention to it.

He wrote a small letter of reply but decided to wait until the next day to post it. Then he started reading his new book. It was very good, not only did it talk about some of the most skilled and famous quidditch players of all time but how to do their moves on your own broomstick. And he desperately wanted to try them all out.

The following day Dudley friends came round. Piers, Malcom, Gordon and Dennis, all of them in the house at once. Harry had memories of this, not fond ones. He vividly remembered them chasing him round the garden having locked the backdoors so he couldn't get back inside. Pier's had a great dame and he'd bought him around once. He'd leg the dog off the leash and let it chase Harry round the garden, all the way down the street and back again before he climbed up a tree to cower until aunt petunia ordered him to put the hulking dog back on its leash. Once they'd even stuck his head down the toilet and flushed it… after Dennis had urinated in there. He knew it had been Dennis, because he'd done it in front of him. Other memories of them included them holding him down while Dudley kicked and punched him, taking his glasses and running round the garden with them and them setting the door to his cupboard alight then blaming on him. He despised every single one of them.

He watched them arrive through the bars on his window and hoped they would stay away from him, his room and the minimal possessions he owned. However he did feel an overwhelming urge to go and slap them all. Because they'd once made his life hell. Though Malcom, Gordon and Dennis did attend stonewall high they no longer targeted him. It seemed that they only did so when Dudley was around. And today Dudley was around. Hearing the doorbell ring he moved away from the window and sat down on his bed. He picked up his new book and started reading it again. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and passing his bedroom door. Dudley and his mates. They went into Dudley's room and he heard the door slam shut. He felt it too as it shook the whole house. He returned his attentions to his quidditch book and got lost in it.

He was jolted from his daydream like state by Aunt Petunia's voice. "Boy's lunch is ready. It's all, ready in the kitchen"

He heard heavy footsteps thunder past his bedroom door and down the stairs. He put his book down and left his room. Starving, he headed into the kitchen. There were five plates on the counter. Dudley and his friends when over to them and all took a plate. No spares, no plate for him. He wasn't getting any. "I didn't do one for you" Aunt Petunia said coldly. He went to the bread bin "We're out of bread" then to the fridge. "You're not having anything from in there either. Go back upstairs and stay of Dudley's way"

Stomach rumbling like crazy, he left the kitchen and made his way back towards the stairs. Dudley and piers came out of the living room. "Come and Join us potter" Dudley smirked, clearly his kindness to him the other day had been a onetime thing.

"I'm alright thanks" replied Harry moving towards the stairs

"No we insist" grinned piers. They took his arms and shepherded him into the front room. They pushed him down to the floor and locked the door. Dudley pulled the doors that separated the dining room and living rooms, making sure they were locked. Then they ate, slapping their lips and frequently commenting on how good it was and what he was missing out on. "Look at him" sniggered Malcom "He's jealous"

"I'm not jealous" said Harry.

"We didn't ask for your opinion" sneered Dennis.

"I don't care if you did" shrugged Harry.

"Shut up" hissed Dudley.

Harry glared Dudley, thinking of some way he could annoy them, get revenge on them after all these years "Dudley you were nice to me the other day. What's changed?"

"I wasn't nice to you!" snapped Dudley.

"Yes you were" replied Harry "You asked me if I was alright then you helped me to bed"

"No I didn't" insisted Dudley. His friends sniggered.

"You did" Harry smirked.

"Shut it before I shut it for you" Dudley seethed, his face glowing bright red.

"Ignore him, he hasn't had his medication today" Harry smirked even more "He did he's just ashamed because it's little old me!"

"SHUT IT!" Dudley roared "GRAB HIM!"

"Oh crap" harry thought to himself. They were going to beat him up again. Then he thought "Give it your best shot. I'm used to it. Give me a reason to hit you back and see how you like it". He looked at them as they advanced on him before grabbing and dragging him out into the back garden. Malcom and Gordon restrained him while Dudley, Pier's and Dennis readied themselves to hit him one by one. "Go on give it your best shot" said Harry "Go on I know you want to!"

Dudley clearly did want to as he punched him in the stomach. "That all you got?" laughed Harry "I don't know how you made junior heavyweight champion if that's all you got"

"YOU'RE PUSHING ME HARRY POTTER" Raged Dudley his beefy face screwing up so he looked like even more of a pig than usual.

"Do him Dudley!" chanted Piers.

"Yeah go on dud give it your best shot!" said Harry "Go on do it. Give me your best shot. Give me a reason. GO ON DO IT"

And Dudley did. He pulled his glasses off and chucked them into the snow. Then he punched harry in the face and stomach a couple of times. Then he let all four of his friends have a go. "You've given me a reason" Harry thought to himself. "Let's go" Dudley said finally. Malcom and Gordon let go of him and he fell to the floor. He found his glasses and went into the house after them. They were sourcing drinks in Aunt Petunia's immaculate kitchen. He went up to Piers, who had always been the worst, other than Dudley, and punched him as hard as he could. "THAT WAS FOR SEVEN YEARS OF HELL!" Harry spat as Piers clutched his nose.

The others stared at him. "Right who's next?" said Harry seething mad and ready to kill them all for subjecting him to constant bullying. But his anger was really caused by the beatings at Uncle Vernon's hands.

When Dudley's friends left he was relieved but not for long. Dudley went telling tales to daddy, that Harry had punched Piers in the face. Once again Uncle Vernon utterly lost it with him. The beating that followed was nothing short of hell on earth. The belt slicing his skin open, the blood trickling down his back and the indescribable pain were all too familiar now.

Unable to move Harry let his mind wander around his past. He'd never had it easy, he'd felt very bitter before his expulsion about Ron and Hermione not thinking he was capable or deserving to know what was happening. But he really hadn't had easy, ever. Even at Hogwarts. He'd nearly died months before, been tortured and seen someone die. His parents were dead, he'd never known them and he never would. He spent his entire childhood being bullied by his cousin and severely neglected by his aunt and uncle. Why did no one ever give him a break? At Hogwarts he'd been famous, and popular to contrary belief, he hated it. He didn't want to be the 'Boy Who Lived'. He wanted to be Harry, the 'Boy Who Fitted In'. He didn't want to be him anymore. For years he'd put up with it but now, after fifteen and half years of living he didn't want to be Harry James Potter anymore. Anybody but him. Lying in the dark he prayed he would close his eyes and open them to find himself no longer living in this never-ending nightmare.

But his prayers were not answered. He woke up in the same bedroom, feeling the same pain that had prevented him sleeping peacefully and comfortably, the same pain that had, had him howling in agony again. In the same bloodied clothes he'd gone to sleep in, still absolutely starving and still covered in cuts, bruises and welts. He was still Harry Potter and still living in his never-ending nightmare.