It was 4:30 in the morning and the sun was slowly creeping in the small gap
between the floor and the door of the cupboard under the stairs, 4 Privet
Drive. In this tiny compartment a boy lay flat on his back trying to ease
the pain in his chest of what he assumed were broken ribs. To any passerby
Harry Potter would appear to be a bum off the streets, with overly large
clothes that were falling off of his skin and bone frame and a ghastly pale
complexion.
Harry at this moment was considering himself very ignorant to ever think his previous summers were horrible when this holiday it had reached an all time low. Besides the fact that Harry was supposed to be grieving the loss of his godfather (which wasn't going very well) he hardly had time to think about Sirius between being forced a slave by his Aunt and being smacked around by his Uncle.
It had started the second he crossed the threshold into number four. His uncle had been in a reckless rage, his face went from red to purple faster than you can say heart attack and he was screaming at the top of his lungs.
"YOU THINK I CAN BE INTIMIDATED BOY!" and with that he raised his sausage like hand and smacked Harry hard across the face. Harry was stunned beyond belief trying to stop the bleeding from his now swollen lip, starring at his Uncle in shock. He had been badgered and insulted before but never hit.
Harry finally regained his sense and figured a threat was the best way to deal with this dilemma, "Excuse me, Uncle Vernon, but did you forget that little talk at Kings Cross?" he asked his voice dripping in venom.
"OH, NO!" boomed Uncle Vernon, "I wouldn't get smart with me boy if I were you, no sir. You'll write to those freak friends of yours, under my close supervision. I will not be told what to do under my own roof!" With that he grabbed Harry by the back of the neck and threw him headfirst into the cupboard under the stairs, and with the click of a lock Vernon was gone along with Harry's possessions.
The whole 3 weeks of the summer had gone on like this. Doing slave work for his Aunt and Cousin, and receiving consistent beatings from his Uncle. But the physical pain was nothing compared to his internal pain. Part of Harry felt as if he had fallen through the veil with Sirius that fateful day. Although he knew this was impossible because if he where dead it wouldn't feel as though you heart is being ripped out and twisted, squeezed, and sliced until he just died from grief, and even though he often wanted to, Harry could not weep for his godfather. As hard as he may try the tears wouldn't fall. But Harry knew no one would save him from this hellhole because everyone was told that, 'I'm fine my Aunt and Uncle are treating me really well,' that was a laugh. Harry was snapped from his musings when his when he heard a click at his cupboard door and was met with his Uncle's six chinned, purple, mustached, massive face.
"GET UP YOU LAZY PIG!" Uncle Vernon's humongous hand wrapped around Harry's throat and he was thrown unceremoniously into the hall where he landed, hard onto his bruised face and dislocated shoulder. "MAKE MY BREAKFEAST AND START ON YOUR LIST OF CHORES, YOU FILTHY MAGET!" He grabbed Harry by his injured arm and threw him (once again) into the kitchen. Harry limped over to the stove where Aunt Petunia handed him a celery stick and a small glass of water, his satisfying meal for the day.
He began to busy himself with the bacon and eggs. After about five minutes he had three over easy eggs and a hasher of bacon sizzling merrily in the frying pan.
Uncle Vernon had entered the kitchen again and made his way towards Harry and the stove. Before Harry could figure out what he'd done wrong this time Uncle Vernon's mustache was a quiver.
"BOY!" Vernon growled, "DUDLEY LIKES SCRAMBLED EGGS!" The next thing Harry knew was his hand was being held to the hot frying pan. Harry let a small moan escape his lips and his Uncle released his grasp from Harry's hand and in turn grabbing hold of the frying pan. He made his way to the trash bin and disposed of all the breakfast Harry had prepared earlier that morning. Vernon threw the pan back on the stove, "make another batch. I don't want your filthy germs." With one last smack across the face he turned on his fat foot and left.
The rest of the day went on like this, doing dishes, cleaning bathrooms, bedrooms, and the whole house in general with the occasional thrashing in between. Finally in the evening he was allowed a last celery stick and was locked back in his cupboard where he could dwell on Sirius's handsome face falling to it's death.
The next morning Harry was woken to a harsh punch in the stomach, totally winded he focused his fuzzy gaze on his massive cousin Dudley hovering over him a huge smirk on his fat face.
"Get up freak, dad wants you in the kitchen," his fat cousin bellowed before waddling his way down the hall. Harry gently lifted himself out of the cupboard and towards his demented Uncle who was busy unlocking Hedwig's cage. "Boy get writing," his Uncle pointed to the pen and paper on the table, Harry limped his way to the parchment and quill while his Uncle loomed over his shoulder. Harry poised his quill at the top of his page and waited. "I'm doing really well. I even get to watch the telly. Don't worry about me," Vernon recited as Harry copied the message and handed it to his Uncle. The beefy man stuffed the note in the birds claws and Hedwig took off into the cloudless sky.
"Well maget, your cousin, your aunt, and I are leaving for holiday in Majorca today, so we don't have to be here when the freaks have should up and you've starved to death." Grabbing Harry by the back of the neck throwing him into his cupboard and with one last kick in the stomach (which probably didn't help the ribs) his Uncle locked the door, leaving Harry to starve.
*****
Grimmauld place was as busy as ever with all of the Weasleys (excluding Percy) and Hermione had now taken up residence in as well as recently Neville Longbottom (his grandmother had just joined the order). The occasional member of the order was also staying nights and running in and out of the old building that it was impossible to have peace. All of the current Hogwarts students were sitting around a long scrubbed wooden table examining there just arrived O.W.L. results. Ron and Neville sat flabbergasted at their Outstanding Potions grade, Hermione was beaming at her perfect scores, and Ginny was running around excitedly looking at everyones scores when they were jerked back to reality by a snowy, white owl that had just arrived in the depressing kitchen.
"Oooooh!" squealed Hermione, she jumped up and ran excitedly to Hedwig, "I bet its Harry with his O.W.L. results." The rest of the group crowded around the note, which Hermione unfolded:
Dear Everyone,
I'm doing really well. I even get to watch the telly. Don't worry about me.
Harry The group stared dully at the letter. I think something's wrong," Hermione stated sternly.
""Why?" asked Ginny?
Hermione's right," said Ron looking concerned, this isn't Harry's usual letter."
"Why don't you bring it up at the order meeting tonight?" suggested Neville, re allowed to go to this one right?"
"Yeah," Hermione sighed exasperated, I guess I will. Ginny, when is Dean coming?"
"Tomorrow," Ron rolled his eyes and they momentarily put their concerns aside.
That evening the kitchen was full with order members, but yet to arrive were Dumbledore and Remus. This was a surprise to no one as the headmaster was a very busy man and Remus tended to arrive as late as possible and left as soon as the meeting was over. Just then the weary young man apperated into the kitchen. He was looking worse than ever. His weight had decreased rapidly and he had dark circles under his eyes, which contrasted boldly with pale skin and grayer than brown hair.
The werewolf sank weakly into a nearby chair ignoring the tense silence and concerned looks everyone was giving him. Even Snape if not looking sympathetic had lost his usual scowl.
The daring Molly Weasley, rushing to greet Remus with a hot cup of tea, broke the awkward silence. "Honestly Remus, if you don't get more sleep your going to splinch yourself." Remus just accepted the cup with a nod of his head seconds before Dumbledore arrived.
"Welcome my friends lets begin with the latest updates, shall we," the extraordinary old man began with a smile that did not reach his startling blue eyes.
The meeting went as all the public meetings did, with news of the most recent attacks and patterns they find among them (nothing you couldn't already find in the Daily Prophet). When the recent updates were finished Dumbledore asked for any comments and Hermione raised a trembling hand.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked kindly
"It's about Harry I think somethings wrong-," "Honestly, Granger, Potter can live a few weeks without being pampered-," came Snape's icy voice.
"Severus," Dumbledore held up a hand of caution, s best you stop there. Continue Miss Granger."
"It's his letters," Hermione continued," they consist of maybe three sentences about how he's doing fine. He didn't even mention his O.W.L. results."
"Hermione's right," Lupin spoke up (which he rarely ever did),"I haven't received a single letter from him all summer. I wrote to him about Sir-," he cleared his throat and continued rather rapidly from here, About the memorial service, he didn't even respond."
"I see," the old wizard put the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully, "we'll await his next owl and choose our course of action from there. Youre dismissed."
They waited for four more days; another letter never came.
Hermione and Ron immediately brought it to the orders attention at the next meeting. Professor Dumbledore sat there silently a thoughtful expression on his face, but was interrupted from his musings by Remus.
"Surely Harry's been their long enough, sir?" Dumbledore looked up and surveyed the teens hopeful faces.
"Remus, Tonks, and Kingsley will retrieve him tomorrow evening," the old man spoke wearily.
"Method of transportation, sir?" came the deep, soothing voice of Kingsley Shakelbolt.
"Brooms, meeting adjourned."
The next evening came as Lupin apparated into the depressing kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place he was early, for once. All the teenagers were sitting at the old wooden table (now including Dean Thomas) eagerly awaiting Harry's arrival. Molly bustled over to Remus.
"Oh, Remus dear, won't you have a bite to eat before you go, the meatloaf's nearly finished."
No, no thank you, Molly," he never had much of an appetite anymore. Just then two loud cracks echoed off the battered walls announcing the presence of Tonks and Kingsley.
"Ready to go, Remus?" Kingsley asked a hint of concern in his voice.
""Course 'e is," Tonks said with a smile that most definitely did not reach her eyes. With merely a nod of his head, the three wizards disapprated with a crack like a whip.
Remus immediately appeared in the surgically clean kitchen of number four. The eerie silence was broken by Kingsley's deep voice.
"Tonks, lead the way." With a small nod the bright haired witch led the way up the stairs followed by the two men. Tonks began to turn the knob, but it remained still. They all exchanged and Tonks pulled out her wand.
"Aloha Ahmora." With a click and the turn of a handle they entered a room that was void of life with the exception of a snowy locked in a barred cage. Harry's trunk stood in the middle of the room looking as though it hadn't been touched all summer.
"Where could he be?" asked Kingsley, "We'd known if he'd left the house." Remus was in frantic mode when Ron's voice drifted into his head-
"At least he doesn't have to sleep in that ruddy cupboard any more." Remus took off down the stairs followed by two confused Aurors. He whipped around and fell to his knees in front of a cupboard door, he grabbed the handle, but it wouldn't budge. Remus whipped out his wand.
"Aloha Ahmora," followed by a click. Remus flung the door open where Tonks, Kingsley, and himself were faced with a crumpled unmoving form of a boy looking so much like his father.
Harry at this moment was considering himself very ignorant to ever think his previous summers were horrible when this holiday it had reached an all time low. Besides the fact that Harry was supposed to be grieving the loss of his godfather (which wasn't going very well) he hardly had time to think about Sirius between being forced a slave by his Aunt and being smacked around by his Uncle.
It had started the second he crossed the threshold into number four. His uncle had been in a reckless rage, his face went from red to purple faster than you can say heart attack and he was screaming at the top of his lungs.
"YOU THINK I CAN BE INTIMIDATED BOY!" and with that he raised his sausage like hand and smacked Harry hard across the face. Harry was stunned beyond belief trying to stop the bleeding from his now swollen lip, starring at his Uncle in shock. He had been badgered and insulted before but never hit.
Harry finally regained his sense and figured a threat was the best way to deal with this dilemma, "Excuse me, Uncle Vernon, but did you forget that little talk at Kings Cross?" he asked his voice dripping in venom.
"OH, NO!" boomed Uncle Vernon, "I wouldn't get smart with me boy if I were you, no sir. You'll write to those freak friends of yours, under my close supervision. I will not be told what to do under my own roof!" With that he grabbed Harry by the back of the neck and threw him headfirst into the cupboard under the stairs, and with the click of a lock Vernon was gone along with Harry's possessions.
The whole 3 weeks of the summer had gone on like this. Doing slave work for his Aunt and Cousin, and receiving consistent beatings from his Uncle. But the physical pain was nothing compared to his internal pain. Part of Harry felt as if he had fallen through the veil with Sirius that fateful day. Although he knew this was impossible because if he where dead it wouldn't feel as though you heart is being ripped out and twisted, squeezed, and sliced until he just died from grief, and even though he often wanted to, Harry could not weep for his godfather. As hard as he may try the tears wouldn't fall. But Harry knew no one would save him from this hellhole because everyone was told that, 'I'm fine my Aunt and Uncle are treating me really well,' that was a laugh. Harry was snapped from his musings when his when he heard a click at his cupboard door and was met with his Uncle's six chinned, purple, mustached, massive face.
"GET UP YOU LAZY PIG!" Uncle Vernon's humongous hand wrapped around Harry's throat and he was thrown unceremoniously into the hall where he landed, hard onto his bruised face and dislocated shoulder. "MAKE MY BREAKFEAST AND START ON YOUR LIST OF CHORES, YOU FILTHY MAGET!" He grabbed Harry by his injured arm and threw him (once again) into the kitchen. Harry limped over to the stove where Aunt Petunia handed him a celery stick and a small glass of water, his satisfying meal for the day.
He began to busy himself with the bacon and eggs. After about five minutes he had three over easy eggs and a hasher of bacon sizzling merrily in the frying pan.
Uncle Vernon had entered the kitchen again and made his way towards Harry and the stove. Before Harry could figure out what he'd done wrong this time Uncle Vernon's mustache was a quiver.
"BOY!" Vernon growled, "DUDLEY LIKES SCRAMBLED EGGS!" The next thing Harry knew was his hand was being held to the hot frying pan. Harry let a small moan escape his lips and his Uncle released his grasp from Harry's hand and in turn grabbing hold of the frying pan. He made his way to the trash bin and disposed of all the breakfast Harry had prepared earlier that morning. Vernon threw the pan back on the stove, "make another batch. I don't want your filthy germs." With one last smack across the face he turned on his fat foot and left.
The rest of the day went on like this, doing dishes, cleaning bathrooms, bedrooms, and the whole house in general with the occasional thrashing in between. Finally in the evening he was allowed a last celery stick and was locked back in his cupboard where he could dwell on Sirius's handsome face falling to it's death.
The next morning Harry was woken to a harsh punch in the stomach, totally winded he focused his fuzzy gaze on his massive cousin Dudley hovering over him a huge smirk on his fat face.
"Get up freak, dad wants you in the kitchen," his fat cousin bellowed before waddling his way down the hall. Harry gently lifted himself out of the cupboard and towards his demented Uncle who was busy unlocking Hedwig's cage. "Boy get writing," his Uncle pointed to the pen and paper on the table, Harry limped his way to the parchment and quill while his Uncle loomed over his shoulder. Harry poised his quill at the top of his page and waited. "I'm doing really well. I even get to watch the telly. Don't worry about me," Vernon recited as Harry copied the message and handed it to his Uncle. The beefy man stuffed the note in the birds claws and Hedwig took off into the cloudless sky.
"Well maget, your cousin, your aunt, and I are leaving for holiday in Majorca today, so we don't have to be here when the freaks have should up and you've starved to death." Grabbing Harry by the back of the neck throwing him into his cupboard and with one last kick in the stomach (which probably didn't help the ribs) his Uncle locked the door, leaving Harry to starve.
*****
Grimmauld place was as busy as ever with all of the Weasleys (excluding Percy) and Hermione had now taken up residence in as well as recently Neville Longbottom (his grandmother had just joined the order). The occasional member of the order was also staying nights and running in and out of the old building that it was impossible to have peace. All of the current Hogwarts students were sitting around a long scrubbed wooden table examining there just arrived O.W.L. results. Ron and Neville sat flabbergasted at their Outstanding Potions grade, Hermione was beaming at her perfect scores, and Ginny was running around excitedly looking at everyones scores when they were jerked back to reality by a snowy, white owl that had just arrived in the depressing kitchen.
"Oooooh!" squealed Hermione, she jumped up and ran excitedly to Hedwig, "I bet its Harry with his O.W.L. results." The rest of the group crowded around the note, which Hermione unfolded:
Dear Everyone,
I'm doing really well. I even get to watch the telly. Don't worry about me.
Harry The group stared dully at the letter. I think something's wrong," Hermione stated sternly.
""Why?" asked Ginny?
Hermione's right," said Ron looking concerned, this isn't Harry's usual letter."
"Why don't you bring it up at the order meeting tonight?" suggested Neville, re allowed to go to this one right?"
"Yeah," Hermione sighed exasperated, I guess I will. Ginny, when is Dean coming?"
"Tomorrow," Ron rolled his eyes and they momentarily put their concerns aside.
That evening the kitchen was full with order members, but yet to arrive were Dumbledore and Remus. This was a surprise to no one as the headmaster was a very busy man and Remus tended to arrive as late as possible and left as soon as the meeting was over. Just then the weary young man apperated into the kitchen. He was looking worse than ever. His weight had decreased rapidly and he had dark circles under his eyes, which contrasted boldly with pale skin and grayer than brown hair.
The werewolf sank weakly into a nearby chair ignoring the tense silence and concerned looks everyone was giving him. Even Snape if not looking sympathetic had lost his usual scowl.
The daring Molly Weasley, rushing to greet Remus with a hot cup of tea, broke the awkward silence. "Honestly Remus, if you don't get more sleep your going to splinch yourself." Remus just accepted the cup with a nod of his head seconds before Dumbledore arrived.
"Welcome my friends lets begin with the latest updates, shall we," the extraordinary old man began with a smile that did not reach his startling blue eyes.
The meeting went as all the public meetings did, with news of the most recent attacks and patterns they find among them (nothing you couldn't already find in the Daily Prophet). When the recent updates were finished Dumbledore asked for any comments and Hermione raised a trembling hand.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked kindly
"It's about Harry I think somethings wrong-," "Honestly, Granger, Potter can live a few weeks without being pampered-," came Snape's icy voice.
"Severus," Dumbledore held up a hand of caution, s best you stop there. Continue Miss Granger."
"It's his letters," Hermione continued," they consist of maybe three sentences about how he's doing fine. He didn't even mention his O.W.L. results."
"Hermione's right," Lupin spoke up (which he rarely ever did),"I haven't received a single letter from him all summer. I wrote to him about Sir-," he cleared his throat and continued rather rapidly from here, About the memorial service, he didn't even respond."
"I see," the old wizard put the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully, "we'll await his next owl and choose our course of action from there. Youre dismissed."
They waited for four more days; another letter never came.
Hermione and Ron immediately brought it to the orders attention at the next meeting. Professor Dumbledore sat there silently a thoughtful expression on his face, but was interrupted from his musings by Remus.
"Surely Harry's been their long enough, sir?" Dumbledore looked up and surveyed the teens hopeful faces.
"Remus, Tonks, and Kingsley will retrieve him tomorrow evening," the old man spoke wearily.
"Method of transportation, sir?" came the deep, soothing voice of Kingsley Shakelbolt.
"Brooms, meeting adjourned."
The next evening came as Lupin apparated into the depressing kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place he was early, for once. All the teenagers were sitting at the old wooden table (now including Dean Thomas) eagerly awaiting Harry's arrival. Molly bustled over to Remus.
"Oh, Remus dear, won't you have a bite to eat before you go, the meatloaf's nearly finished."
No, no thank you, Molly," he never had much of an appetite anymore. Just then two loud cracks echoed off the battered walls announcing the presence of Tonks and Kingsley.
"Ready to go, Remus?" Kingsley asked a hint of concern in his voice.
""Course 'e is," Tonks said with a smile that most definitely did not reach her eyes. With merely a nod of his head, the three wizards disapprated with a crack like a whip.
Remus immediately appeared in the surgically clean kitchen of number four. The eerie silence was broken by Kingsley's deep voice.
"Tonks, lead the way." With a small nod the bright haired witch led the way up the stairs followed by the two men. Tonks began to turn the knob, but it remained still. They all exchanged and Tonks pulled out her wand.
"Aloha Ahmora." With a click and the turn of a handle they entered a room that was void of life with the exception of a snowy locked in a barred cage. Harry's trunk stood in the middle of the room looking as though it hadn't been touched all summer.
"Where could he be?" asked Kingsley, "We'd known if he'd left the house." Remus was in frantic mode when Ron's voice drifted into his head-
"At least he doesn't have to sleep in that ruddy cupboard any more." Remus took off down the stairs followed by two confused Aurors. He whipped around and fell to his knees in front of a cupboard door, he grabbed the handle, but it wouldn't budge. Remus whipped out his wand.
"Aloha Ahmora," followed by a click. Remus flung the door open where Tonks, Kingsley, and himself were faced with a crumpled unmoving form of a boy looking so much like his father.