I'm back! Hey, everyone it's time for another chap isn't it? Well then, let's read on.
Disclaimer: as I've said many times before I don't own Harry Potter and sadly never will unless I go to some alternate universe.
Thinking of Sirius was getting harder and harder to do for Harry Potter while he lay on his back spread eagle in his old bedroom. For you see his uncle had just been in there and Harry had gotten his punishment twice in a row.
One was for Harry passing out earlier and the other was the result of him not being in his cupboard waiting as uncle Vernon had instructed earlier. He couldn't believe he had been so daft, by now he should have known that his uncle would finish his dinner early just to beat him up! He shouldn't have checked himself over until he was in his cupboard. Though he wasn't quite sure that he would have enough room to, for that thing was extremely tiny.
However, in a way, he was glad he took a chance and stayed longer in the room than he was supposed to. Because if he hadn't then he would have never gotten Sirius's letter.
Everything had gone as it usually did when Harry was beaten twice. His uncle would hit him and hit him repeatedly with anything he had on him at the time. That included his belt, the whip, his fists, and his shoes, and sometimes the smelting stick. Of course, Harry had gotten all of them that afternoon. But He knew his uncle had more products meant for his torture hidden in the cupboard. For he had seen them last summer when he was sent in there to get a broom. Those included more whips, and Harry's worst nightmare of all some restraints and gags.
You see being beaten twice was when Vernon would beat on Harry for the first session. Till he was on all fours and gasping for breath. Then he would give Harry approximately two minutes to sit there in suffering, while he caught his breath. Once Harry's uncle did then he would start it all over again till he got the same result as before.
In addition, another part went along with Vernon's horrible painful beatings. Harry wasn't allowed to cry out or scream during the whole time. If he did then Vernon just made it clearer he wasn't supposed to by hitting him harder. Therefore, Harry would suffer through it all anyway he could, sometimes he would bite his lip till it bled. More time's he would rest his head on his knees as he bent down and he would cover up the sound with his hands. He didn't care if some people thought it wasn't like him to want to beg for it to stop. When you're getting hit that hard by a man, double your size it's going to hurt like hell for anyone, even the bravest people.
However, at the end then Harry was free to let go, you see by then his uncle wasn't getting satisfaction of just seeing Harry trying to hold back a scream. He wanted to hear him yell out by then and he would make sure Harry did. So a couple minutes before he was done he would start yelling at Harry to scream and show him he was in pain. If Harry didn't then the beating would just continue going on and on till he finally gave in and did.
That was one of the parts Harry hated the most. He didn't like letting anyone, even his close friends know they hurt him or caused him pain. And for him to have to admit it to his horrible uncle was a torture all in its own.
The only bright side to that night was Harry was sure his godfather was on his way. At first, Harry had thought that Sirius would only show up to tell him to stop sending him letters. But something inside him knew Sirius wouldn't do that to him. I mean the man broke out of Azkaban to catch peter Pettigrew so he could take him in didn't he? This was the same man who took the chance of being spotted, just so he could see Harry from the bushes, wasn't he?
So now, all he had to do was wait, but that was turning out to be harder than he thought it could ever be.
"Boy are you still in Dudley's bedroom? You just have to make me mad don't you!" he heard his uncle scream angrily from the bottom of the stairs.
Harry knew exactly what that meant for him. It was that he was supposed to get up and out of that room as fast as he could before his uncle came back.
So by building up the strength, he had left and by sliding over to the dresser on his side, he grabbed onto it and pulled himself up. He let out a loud groan as he got to his feet and stood straight up.
Right now, he couldn't be more thankful that Voldemort and his uncle didn't know each other. They both took obscene amounts of pleasure in causing Harry as much pain as possible. The only time Harry could think of even feeling close to this much pain was when Voldemort was inside his mind.
He really didn't want to think about that though, because that was the night everything went sour for him. That was the night Sirius had come so very close to death, on that night Voldemort had come back in person, and that night was the last time he saw his godfather because of a stupid decision on his part.
Hermione had warned him over and over again that Sirius really wasn't in any danger and that it was all a trap and in the end, she couldn't be more right. There were so many times in the day Harry wished he could take what he had done back. He wished he could have done it differently so no one had to be in that terrible battle, especially his godfather.
But he wanted that to stay in the past tonight. Because on this night all he had to do was get through it, the best he could and soon Sirius would show up.
Harry looked all over the floor of that tiny bedroom before he finally spotted his shirt; it was hidden in the corner by the mirror, right where he had taken it off. As quick, as he could with so much damage done he limped over and picked it up. Once he put it on, he couldn't believe how lucky he had come out. Even with an elbow-sleeved shirt on you could only see some of the bruises on his forearms arms. The only one you could clearly see was located right on his elbow and he would hardly call that a bruise. It was the handprints of his uncle's hands form where he had pulled Harry up to start the second session.
Harry had known from experience that ones like that would fade quicker than the others. All he had to do was keep it covered for a few days till it did completely.
Which wasn't going to be that hard at all, for you see Harry got all of Dudley's hand me down clothes. And aunt Petunia only bought him long sleeves unless it was a basketball jersey. She had said that the look complemented her popkins arms well. But Harry guessed that the real reason she did it was because she wanted to hide his fat arms. He however restrained himself from actually saying that when she brought up how cute he looked in long sleeves. For he knew that that meant she would just come after him with that cast iron frying pan again. And believe Harry when he says that one blow to the head with those hurts! Even if it's tossed by someone with such a small horse like frame as his aunt Petunia has.
Once he had his shirt back on he limped over to his overly large trunk. In there he found his muggle clothing all the way at the bottom because he rarely wore them at all. Besides when he was on privet drive that was.
He stayed as silent as he could as he changed his shirt and trousers while his skin was all black and blue. He tried his hardest to suppress the hisses and groans outof pain from moving until he was done. He even cursed in parseltounge a few times, just to let it out. Once he was finished, he looked himself back over in the mirror.
He was wearing a short-sleeved black t-shirt that was hidden by Dudley's massive black and grey plaid shirt over it, He left that one unbuttoned .The last time he wore it, and it was buttoned all the way up and tucked in. That was when Aunt Marge was visiting and it was only buttoned up then because of aunt Petunia's demands about it.
His trousers were also close to what he was wearing that night, they were long, a little baggy, and had a greenish color to them. Right now, he couldn't be more thankful that his belt was lying right where he had left it by his bed. For any of the muggle pants he had would have never stayed up if he didn't have it and he didn't feel like keeping his uniform pants on all summer. So he put that on too, although he had to set it to its highest notch. Proving to him that he had lost way to much weight over the last couple of days than were normal for someone his age of almost sixteen.
You could clearly tell that he was extremely tiny when he lifted up his shirt, but with it down, he just looked like he normally did. However when you lifted up his shirt you could not only see the scars and bruises but worst of all most of his bones to.
Sure Harry had always been really tiny in the stomach fat area compared to other kids. But usually he had his muscle from all of that Quidditch training he had at Hogwarts. So no one really questioned why he was so skinny once he took off his shirt because they could see not only his bones but some muscle to.
But now, now it was like some of that muscle had disappeared. Yes you could still see some there but it looked almost gone with all of his rib bones, his hipbones, and his collarbone showing.
That was a sign to him that he had to bulk up before someone saw his without a shirt on again. For he knew if he didn't that would only lead to questions from others to his aunt and uncle about it. And he had learned when he was only a tiny child at the durselys that there should be no questions concerning Harry in that house, if they weren't when he was going to be beaten again or if it was whether or not he had all his chores done.
He turned his gaze from the mirror and when he looked back he was shocked. What had only a small puddle been before was now three larger ones and a lot of blood splattered along the walls, the floors, and you guessed it the ceiling. There wasn't that much of it in the ceiling but just enough to show when the lights were on.
Harry had to guess that it had come from his uncle swinging his belt up before bringing it down on Harry's back. That thing always seemed to be covered in Harry's blood from all the wounds it had opened when his uncle finished. Trust me, Harry would know because he always had to shine it clean of the blood the next day when he did laundry.
He sighed quietly and started to walk out the door. He would get to all of his chores tomorrow when he had more time. I mean it's not like Sirius really specified when he would be showing up. He had wrote hold on I'm coming soon almost three days ago now.
"Boy!" he heard his uncle call again.
Harry groaned again, but this time out of annoyance more than pain. Why couldn't things go back to the way they were last summer when the durselys nearly never spoke to him and Sirius gave him all the attention he had. No it seemed that everything had been turned around. The durselys wouldn't leave him alone and he didn't know if his godfather was going to come through.
But he had to didn't he? The hold on had to had meant to be something to keep him going till he showed up wasn't it?
You know what he didn't even want to think about it right now. It would lead him into spirals and spirals of downhill confusion and right now confusion was the last thing he wanted. He life was confusing enough without having to deal with what everyone else thought of him. And that everyone included his godfather, and the durselys.
So he quietly made his way down the stairs and into the living room. As usual his cousin was eating pie and watching a horrible TV show, his aunt was sitting next to Dudley and fussing over his hair, and his uncle was burning some of his hand me down clothes. Yep things were as they normally were at privet drive.
Wait a tick! Why in the hell was his uncle burning all of his muggle clothes?
"What the cricket do you think you're doing?" (A/n I remember Hermione saying that in the first film)
"Boy you will mind your own business, and not ask questions in my house." Vernon snapped back.
Ugh! That was it he wasn't going to argue with some like his uncle anymore. And besides it not like he wanted the clothes anyway. They were huge on his skinny frame, but it was still nice to have something.
"Mum... He's being annoying and spoiling my time again." Dudley whined. Acting more like he was a four year old than the sixteen your old man he was. But then again that was the way to get Petunia or Vernon to punish Harry and Dudley happened to know that very well.
She apologized to her son for letting Harry in the room and then turned back to the boy wonder with complete look disgust on her face.
"Would you just go and stay in your cupboard boy!" she barked as she put her nose in the air like she was better than him.
"Yeah whatever." Harry mumbled to anyone that was listening. With a shrug of his shoulders he left the kitchen and walked out of the door.
He was a little hesitant as he looked at his old cupboards small slanted door. He had no idea how in the world he would fit into it again. Granted he was a small teenager but it was even cramped in there when he was eleven. How was he supposed to even get inside now?
Harry gave one look up stairs; it was almost like he was wishing he could just walk upstairs and fall on his twin bad.
But for now he had to put up with this. So he cautiously undid all the locks and look inside…
Yup it was just as cramped as he had remember it to be. He could even still see the small blanket he had used till he was at Hogwarts.
So with one last sigh and look to the door he crouched down and stepped in. It wasn't as cramped as he thought it would be. But yet it was still to snug for his liking. Oh well, at least he could move around right.
For a brief moment Harry could feel something crawling on his shin. He looked down to see the smallest spider resting on him. It would seem that Harry's leg had landed right on his web. But it's not like Harry didn't mind killing them that much. So he just bent down, took off his show and swatted the spider down till he was off his leg and smashed into the floor.
Harry wasn't as afraid of spiders like Ron was, he had lived in that cupboard since he was extremely small and it's not like there wasn't any spiders in it before. So Harry just got in the habit of smashing them, that's why he wasn't scared at all to follow them in his second year.
"Finally a little respect..." he could hear his uncle say from the kitchen to no one about Harry finally following what he said and getting in the cupboard.
Before he could reach out and shut the door he heard Vernon's rather large feet pounding towards the door. Quickly he reached out and shut himself into the inhuman living space.
To fit with the door shut he had to curl up on his side in fetal position. He wasn't very comfortable but at least it kept him warm to be so snuggled into himself.
"Right where you belong boy." his uncle mumbled as he walked to Harry's cupboard and locked all of the five locks.
You see Harry's uncle had added three more locks to the door when he was at Hogwarts. He said it was all for his families safety because he had planned to lock all of Harry's magical items in it. Those included his wand, broom, robes, and his school trunk.
But on the way to get Harry from that blasted train station was when his dearest pet had a change of heart… well she would have if she had one. She had decided that she had had enough of Harry taking everything that Dudley had like she thought her sister had done to her. So she told Vernon that once they were back at home Harry would be back into his cupboard and that was that. And of course he had agreed with her only because it would cause Harry to be miserable.
Well it wasn't like things were going to change right that minute so Harry made up his mind to put up with it. So he stretched out as far as his arms and legs would allow him to and put the mangy blanket over his waist, as he rested his head on his hand as a pillow, since he didn't have a bed in there anymore.
Once he was moved up to the houses smallest bedroom his uncle had moved his bed from the cupboard into the trash.
"Get to sleep you freak!" he could hear Dudley call as he passed by the cupboard with someone who had really tiny footsteps. That other person of course was his aunt but it's not like he really thought she would say goodnight to him.
"Night cousin!" the whale screamed again once he was almost up the stairs.
He had stopped to do what he usually did when Harry used to sleep in the cupboard every night. He walked all the way up the stairs till he got to a certain one. On that one step he hopped up and down. His large weight making sawdust from the old wood above Harry's head to fall on top of where he was sleeping.
But after so many years Harry had gotten used to it. He knew to keep his mouth and eyes closed as it fell. Because to get that in your eyes or mouth hurts to get out, especially when you can't use water for it.
Well if everyone in the house was asleep then he might as well try to be to right. So he quietly took off his glasses and closed his eyes, finally he drifted off into his own dream land. It was the place Dumbledore had always said to leave him be in. His headmaster had said that in dreams Harry could swim in the deepest ocean or fly over the tallest mountain. He had said he thought Harry's dreams could be a good way for him to escape the troubles in his life.
However, Harry dreams were rarely like that at all. Harry's dream usually consisted of nightmares of what would come around the next time he woke.
With the hope of a night without a dream Harry finally drifted off into sleep.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
Harry could almost guess that he had been asleep for three or four hours at least, before he heard loud knocks coming from the door across from him. But wait if he had been asleep for that long than that meant whoever was knocking was waking everyone up at three am! Not only that they had woken him up from an amazing night. No it's not like he was having a good dream, what made the night good was that he hadn't dreamt at all.
There was no dream about Sirius, no dream about Voldemort, or even his parents. But that's the way he liked it.
"Who in the bloody hell would be knocking on MY door at a time like this." he could hear his uncle scream from above him on the stairs.
KNOCK, KNOCK.
There it was again but this time it sounded more impatient more annoyed than they were before.
"Oh dear just answer the door and tell them to leave." Petunia was heard saying from the stairs with her husband.
Soon Harry heard his uncle thundering footsteps coming down the stairs at such a fast pace. Ending right where Harry could guess was beside the door.
Sure enough he could see the glow of a light being on slide in from under his cupboard door. And he could see Vernon's shadow taking up the whole hallway.
Then he heard the door creak open slowly and his uncle say, "I don't care who in the world you are or what's so important, but I will not allow you to be knocking on my door at such an ungodly hour! Do you understand me?"
Quickly Harry shut his eyes tightly and tried to fall back asleep as he was before. He had only see his uncle this mad before at him and he knew that there was going to be trouble, so he thought he might as well sleep through it.
Now with his eyes closed and glasses spewed onto the floor beside him again he relied on his sense of hearing.
He could hear his uncle trying to close the door before a loud bang was heard, like something was thrown against the wall. His first guess was that it was the door swinging wide open by the unknown visitor.
"Now there's no need to brake their door down." a calm and filmier voice came to Harry's ears.
"Oh come on this is useless, I told him we would show up days ago!" a more loud and desperate voice said. Now that one sounded like someone he knew very well. But he still kept his eyes shut tightly.
"W what do you want, y you're from their lot aren't you?" he heard his uncle stutter.
First his uncle stuttering and then him using the phrase "their lot" in so much fear. That could only mean that these people at the door where wizards! But why were they in surrey, But it didn't matter right now he was way to sleepy to know who or what they wanted.
Then suddenly the second voice was heard saying.
"Look I'm just here trying to find my godson in this row of blasted houses that all look the same!"
As he had said before on the train it was all turning into chaos.