Harry woke up when he heard a loud knock right by his ear and felt it vibrate off of his head. He was scrunched up in the cupboard. Having slept on the hard floor, he was stiff and very uncomfortable. He barely managed to crawl out of the cupboard and straighten himself. He couldn't lift his arms, which made cooking breakfast extremely difficult. He decided to finally put the idea of a big breakfast to use, as he had no food the day before and was unable to go up to the room and get something.

Perhaps not so surprisingly, Vernon seemed pleased at the amount of food Harry cooked; together the Dursleys ate most of it. With each bite, Harry's hope of eating dropped. Just when it seemed that Vernon would eat all the extra food, he stopped. He looked kind of green, as though had for once reached his limit. Vernon raised his hand to wipe his mouth, and Petunia cringed at his table manners.

Harry couldn't help but flinch and move back, as though afraid that Vernon was going to hit him. He paid the boy no attention; simply handing him the list of chores and leaving. Harry stared longingly at the food and was surprised when his aunt actually gave him some. He stifled his shock and thanked his aunt before taking it outside to eat. He made the food last by working and then eating a little, alternating through the day or doing both at once.

After three hours or so, Harry realized that the work was somehow going more easily, burning less energy. Probably because I actually got to eat well today… compared to other days, anyways, he thought. He finished the chores quickly, and any nervousness he'd had about them vanished. He wasn't as tired as he usually was after finishing, and it was only 6:30. Well, the day had been uneventful enough. Now he had plenty of time to do nothing for once. His uncle was probably out while his Aunt was hidden somewhere in the house.

He was able to think clearly then and suddenly remembered all the homework he'd left untouched. Not like it was his fault; he didn't want to risk having any of his "freakish stuff" out. I'll just do it on the train ride. I doubt that will get me a passing mark, but it's better then nothing, he thought.

Maybe if Ron can convince Dumbledore to get me over there for the last two weeks, I could do it at the Burrow. I'd rather fail, though, if going there means putting them in danger. The Weasleys are the closest thing to a family I've got, he thought sadly.
Then he began to think about his last two years at Hogwarts and his life afterwards. If I even live to see it…

After looking through the window for what seemed like hours, Harry finally fell asleep. No sooner did he slip into sleep did his mind become invaded by nightmares once again on his friends, parents, and his godfather. Sleeping on his stomach and the lack of fidgeting thankfully caused Harry's muttering to be muffled by the pillows.

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Severus Snape was, for the third time, making his way down private drive to keep an eye on Potter. He had to track down and place a memory charm on all those muggles because dunderhead Potter decided to go on a little escapade and now they had wanted to search for the boy. What he had done? Severus had no idea. Not that he cared.

Severus couldn't help but feel anxious at the possibilities his last visit had opened.

He decided to put on the invisibility charm before reaching the house, deeming it too risky to wait. Potter might feel the strong magic again. As he once again made his way to the backyard, he was, for some reason, hoping to see that Potter's condition had not worsened.

He gave up hope, though, when he saw Potter even more tired and marked then before. He had some food on the bench, and the boy looked as though he was trying to make it last the whole day. He probably is, Snape thought. The boy seemed to become thinner daily. For the first time, Severus noticed that there were handprints on Potter's neck, too. That's it, Severus thought, I am 99 percent sure that what I think is happening is actually happening. I need someone like Lupin or Dumbledore to see this. If I tell them, they'll think that I feel some sort of concern for the boy.

But I cannot let this continue. What would people say if they learned that their boy hero died at the hands of his Muggle uncle? What would they say if they found that I knew? I just need the right proof. How could those dunderheads not have noticed this? It must be stopped! Severus shuddered as he recalled a few memories of his own.

Taking a closer look, Severus saw that Potter's the list of chores had nearly doubled from the last time he was there.

Wanting to prevent Potter from coming to more harm, he magically enabled the implements to do most of the work so that Potter might finish them more quickly. He also improved upon the chores the boy had already finished. Hoping the boy would be okay, Severus portkeyed back to headquarters. He had plenty of time there to beat himself up there for helping a Potter and for being so wrong about him in the first place.

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Harry was already awake when his aunt called for him the next morning. The nightmares had allowed him no more than two hours of sleep. His head was swimming, and he felt a headache coming on, but he knew it could've been worse. Despite the dizziness and pain, he felt energized. Well, more so then usual. He went through his normal routine and soon found himself outside cleaning out the shed, a piece of bread Aunt Petunia had given him in hand.

Reaching up for a heavy bag of cement, several things happened simultaneously. He lost grip of the bag, and it landed on his shoulder. The impact made him fall back onto the handle of the lawn mower, which flipped over and landed flat on his arm. He heard a sickening crack, and the blades made several cuts on his arm. Harry couldn't manage to bite back a cry of pain when this happened. The shed door slammed opened, causing the old door to break away from one of its hinges. "Well, so much for the good day I was having," Harry mumbled to himself.
The crash had angered his uncle greatly, huge surprise there! He pulled Harry up by scruff of his neck, then grabbed his damaged arm by the wrist. Harry again let out a yelp of pain. Vernon squeezed Harry's arm even tighter then, to the point at which the pain was unbearable. He kicked the boy to the floor, let fly an endless string of insults, told him that he was wasting time, and demanded that Harry clean up everything before he came back out.

After his uncle's brusque departure, Harry tenderly checked over his arm. He was willing to bet that his wrist was broken and silently wondered how he was suppose to finish the chores with a broken wrist… he barely managed to finish them in the first place! How the hell am I gonna get that bag over to the other side of the shed? He tried kicking it, but it barely budged, only hurt his already sore leg. There is no way it healed properly, it still ached way too much for that.

He decided to lift it on top of the lawn mower and roll it there. Before he could change his mind, he lifted the bag and dropped it onto the mower, causing a bolt of pain to shoot through his arm. Harry tried his best to ignore it and continued to sort out the shed. He left fixing the door for last, as it would definitely require two hands.

When he finally finished the shed, he left to start his other chores. An hour later, he saw clearly that he wasn't where he needed to be on the list. Not even close really. Looks like his Uncle is in need of his punching bag once again. That man needs anger management classes for a couple of years! Harry shook his head and picked up his pace.
Unbeknownst to him, Vernon Dursley was already making his way outside, ready to pounce on his nephew for "slacking off," when a root circled his leg, causing him to trip. He ended up rolling clockwise and would have rolled into the fence if not for the root so firmly attached to his leg. Vernon was blinded with anger as he lashed out for the root.

Finally untangling it, he continued towards his nephew, who was now aware of his uncle's presence. When Vernon finally reached his goal, he grabbed the boy and held him so tightly by the neck that he was choking him, yet he didn't let up one bit. Damnit! Why couldn't he just leave me alone? The only time he actually bothers to notice my existence is when he wants to beat me to pulp.
"You don't finish your chores, and then you use those freak tricks to try and hurt me, eh? Well it didn't work! You're in trouble now, boy. You've done magic. They'll expel you from that school of yours, and we'll have to deal with you all year. You barely started your chores and probably broke the lawn mower…and you tried to kill me! I wont have it! You're dead. Don't say I didn't warn you"

During this tirade, Vernon had dragged the boy into the house. Harry was positive his uncle would have yelled even louder if it weren't for his concern that other people would be able to hear. Harry felt sick. He had no doubt that, if he were expelled, his uncle would make his life worse then the living hell it already was. But he hadn't even done magic. What had happened? He wasn't that blind that he would miss a root like that, and how had it encircled his Uncle's leg so firmly?

Once inside, Vernon threw Harry against the table and continued to kick and punch him. Harry felt slight relief at the fact that his uncle wasn't wearing that dreaded belt. If he goes to get it, I might be able to run. Living on the streets is better then this. I'm sure that living on the streets of Muggle London would be the last place Voldemort would expect to find Dumbledore's golden boy, Harry silently thought.

What happened next shocked Harry. His uncle pulled away the belt that was keeping Dudley's old trousers up on him and held it back. Harry closed his eyes and braced himself, as there was no escape. He would die at his Uncle's hands. There was no one there to stop him. But the blows never came.

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