CH13: Consequences
Harry's head was spinning, trying to come too from the beating his Uncle had given to him. Although that must have been hours ago based on the sky through his window.
It was afternoon when his professor had visited, the sky outside was now dark. He must have been knocked out for 5 hours at least.
He had never seen Vernon so seething with anger, he was sure he would kill him, Harry reckoned he must have tried judging by his aches. He tried to move, and nearly shouted in agony, his whole body felt like lead, he couldn't even decide where hurt the most.
He tried to breathe through the pain and very slowly he managed to push himself into a sitting position against his bedroom wall.
He must have left his bedside lamp on this morning, and it allowed him to assess the damage.
There was blood everywhere, he searched around his body for a wound which could have created such a mess and couldn't see one, he reached up with his hand to his head and winced. His hand came away bloody.. then he remembered. Vernon had hit him over the head with something, some piece of wood or something.
Harry coughed into his hand and felt something warm, he looked at his hand to find he had coughed up blood. This didn't really surprise him, Vernon had meant to do damage and he had.
Harry started to cry… whimpering with the pain even crying caused him.
He must have been heard as his door started to open slowly… probably Vernon back to finish the job…
But it wasn't his Uncle, it was his Aunt.
She looked at him down her nose like she always did, her nephew who lay broken before her at the hands of her husband.
She walked over and knelt beside him
'I'm sorry Harry' she said simply. 'please just be quiet and keep out of his way and he will leave you alone'
'why do you hate me so much?' Harry breathed, he couldn't raise his voice any louder.
His aunt looked taken aback.
'I…. I….' his Aunt started, but she couldn't quite find an answer to his question
'I will bring you some soup' she finished with and then quickly paced out of the room.
She returned a few minutes later and placed a bowl of warm soup by her nephew, she looked at him for a second, not quite sure what to say before deciding there was nothing she could say. She retreated out of the room and shut the door.
Harry looked at the soup beside him and his stomach turned.
He coughed again and more blood appeared in his hand, he thought he might be dying.
He thought how strange it was that this thought didn't scare him.
Harry decided he would prefer to be dead right now, at least he wouldn't hurt so much.
Harry spent the rest of the night sitting against his bedroom wall, in a pool of blood which grew gradually bigger as his head wound continued to weep, and he continued to throw up.
He finally allowed himself to close his eyes as the light started to appear through his bedroom window.
Harry was dying as the world was coming to life around him.
At least everyone would be safe with him gone he thought sadly as he drifted away
'Harry?!' He heard as his eyes closed