Harry Potter sat on his bed and stared forlornly out the window. Last night a House Elf, of all things, had come and ruined his life. Now there was a man fitting bars on Harry's window and Uncle Vernon had put a lock and a cat flap for food on his bedroom door. At least now he knew that his friends hadn't forgotten him. Maybe someone would notice when he didn't show up for school.

Harry was pretty sure the muggles on Privet Drive knew exactly what his uncle was doing, but no one cared enough to do anything about it. For people who were forever worried someone would notice they weren't completely normal, the Dursleys sure had an odd way of hiding things. Their 'punishments' were always much more noticeable than Harry's 'funny business'.

Harry jumped as he heard the sudden scraping sound of Aunt Petunia pushing his food tray under the door. He cringed as he limped over to retrieve the tray. Uncle Vernon had been a bit overly enthusiastic with his beating the night before. Harry supposed it was due to the fact that not only was he extremely angry about his botched business dinner, but also, it was the first time Uncle Vernon had hit him since the previous summer. The man hadn't dared lay a finger on Harry since he'd gotten back, but now that he knew Harry wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school, it was open season.

He gingerly sat back down and looked at the sparse meal the Dursleys had given him. Though it was the only meal he'd been granted that day, Harry sighed and gave the entirety to Hedwig. His ribs hurt so badly it was making him nauseated, and the food probably wouldn't have stayed down anyway. Hedwig gave Harry an affronted look and ruffled her feathers, but eventually she ate it.

Harry lay back as carefully as he could on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He wondered how long it would take them to notice that he wasn't coming back to Hogwarts this year. Would they even care? Knowing his luck Ron and Hermione were probably angry and thought that he'd been purposely ignoring them all summer. Sure the other students would most likely be a bit disappointed that they could no longer gawk at Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived, but would anyone just miss Harry? Maybe Hagrid would miss him. Unless he had written Harry too, and assumed that Harry was ignoring him like he imagined that Ron and Hermione would. Harry's mind continued to worry as he drifted into a restless sleep.

His worries disappeared though when he woke hours later to a freckle faced by tapping incessantly on his window.

"Ron! What are you doing here? You can't be here. If the Dursleys find you they'll kill- Wait, is that a flying Ford Angela?" Harry asked in surprise as Fred and George waved at him through the window.

"What do you mean 'what am I doing here'?" Ron exclaimed, "I've been writing you all summer and you've not answered once! And Dad said you got in trouble for using under age magic! What were you thinking Harry? You know the rules! We're not supposed to use magic during the summer!" Ron rolled his eyes as Harry looked pointedly at the flying car again. "This doesn't count, we didn't charm it, Dad did. We're just borrowing it."

Harry doubted that the Ministry would agree with Ron's reasoning, but he chose not to comment on that, instead he said, "Of course I didn't use magic Ron! I'm not stupid! It was a House Elf!"

"You have a House Elf? Not fair!" Ron interrupted loudly.

"Of course I don't have a House Elf Ron! I live with muggles! Until last night I'd never even heard of House Elves!" He exclaimed and then proceeded to summarize exactly what had happened the night before.

While Harry was talking to Ron, the twins removed the bars from his window, climbed in and broke out his door to retrieve his school things that the muggles had locked in the cupboard under the stairs. They were almost away when Hedwig caused a ruckus because Harry had almost forgotten her. It woke Uncle Vernon who, when Harry had went back for Hedwig, had almost ripped off Harry's ankle trying to stop him from escaping. The Weasleys managed to pull Harry out of Vernon's grasp, though quite painfully as the easiest place for them to grab him was around his torso which was covered in bruises. He was luckily able to pass off his grimace of pain as if it were caused by his ankle getting twisted though.

Once things had settled down some the twins had started acting a bit shifty until Harry had asked them what was wrong. "Well," started George, "We were just wondering,"

"Why is there an old cot made up in your aunt and uncle's cupboard?" Fred finished.

Harry blinked in surprise. He had completely forgotten that was still there. "Oh... I er, I used to sleep there... Before my Hogwarts letter came. My aunt and uncle freaked when the letter was addressed not only to their house, but to my cupboard as well." Harry explained uncomfortably.

Harry flinched as he lifted his hand to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. He'd forgotten momentarily that he was still injured. Ron noticed, "Blimey Harry! What the hell happened to you?!" He exclaimed leaning in to better examine Harry's facial features in the moon light. "I didn't see it before because it's so dark, but you look like you fell off your broom!" Both twins looked at Harry in concern.

"It was just Dudley and his gang." Harry lied quickly. "Don't worry Ron, I've had far worse before." He felt bad about lying but, he really didn't want them to know just yet how much of a freak he really was. Getting ruffed up by some other kids was one thing, but he really didn't think he could handle them knowing he was abused.

As they flew Ron relayed the story of Harry's disastrous previous night to his brothers. Harry stayed mostly quiet, only giving small nods of encouragement or corrections when needed. Eventually he felt himself beginning to drift back to sleep.

Ron woke Harry up just as they were landing and Harry had barely gotten a chance to glance at their peculiar house before Mrs. Weasley marched outside and began to verbally attack her sons. He immediately felt terrible for Ron and the twins having to come get him, and though it had been some time since he'd last cried about anything, he found to his utter embarrassment that he had to work to keep his tears at bay. Of course he only felt worse when Mrs. Weasley made it clear that she didn't blame him, and then insisted that Harry come inside and get something to eat.

It was about that time that she noticed Harry was hurt, and she proceeded to make a huge fuss over him. She quickly stopped though when she saw just how uncomfortable it was making Harry and rushed everyone inside for breakfast.

Mr. Weasley came home around the time everyone was getting settled at the table (except for Ron's younger sister Ginny who had squeaked and ran off when she had seen Harry. Ron assured him it had nothing to do with the state he was in, and everything to do with who he was, but Harry wasn't sure he believed him.) Before he could speak to Harry, Mrs. Weasley pulled him off to the side and said a few words to him while gazing worriedly in Harry's direction. Whatever she said was enough to keep him from mentioning anything about Harry's injuries. Instead he asked about rubber ducks and spark plugs, but Harry was sure that the unquestioning silence wouldn't last for very long. He would need to tell them something eventually.

Harry tried his best to eat all of the food Mrs. Weasley piled onto his plate, but he just felt too sick from the pain. It was getting worse. He felt terrible, and didn't want to seem rude, especially since the food was so good, but he just wasn't able to force even half of it down. Never mind the fact that all of the Weasley boys all had at least two helpings of everything, or the fact that it had been at least a day and a half since Harry had eaten anything at all.

Eventually Mrs. Weasley ordered Fred, George, and Ron to go and de-gnome the garden and for Harry to stay behind. Percy had long since left the table to go write to someone; the twins had taken great fun in teasing him about it.

This was it. The time had come for them to interrogate him about his bruises. Harry hoped that his lies would be good enough to satisfy their concerns, but he knew he wasn't half as convincing to adults as he was to children.

"Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley started delicately as if not to startle him off. "I need you to tell us what happened." Harry looked from Mrs. Weasley to her husband and then back again.

He drew in a deep, painful breath and then said, "Er, well you see... I have this cousin Dudley- whale of a boy really- and well, see, he and his friends don't like me too much, and so yesterday they grabbed me from the park and ruffed me up a bit. It's not really as bad as it looks. Really. I've had far worse before."

It was an okay story, but Harry was a terrible liar and he could see the Weasleys weren't buying it. In fact, Harry could tell the only thing they did buy was that he had had far worse before.

Mr. Weasley sent his wife a worried look and cleared his throat. "Harry, we need you to tell us what really happened." He said in a stern voice.

Suddenly it occurred to Harry what exactly he was doing. He was lying to adults. The Dursleys hated that. Why would the Weasleys be any different? He was horrified that he had obviously broken a rule and he wasn't even sure what the punishment would be here.

Mr. Weasley saw Harry panicking and quickly did his best to reassure him. "Harry, you're not in trouble. I just really need you to tell me who hurt you." Harry wasn't sure he believed him, but he knew from experience it would be better to tell them now if only to avoid more potential anger in the future.

Harry took a deep breath and looked at his old trainers and explained as best as he could. "Uncle Vernon was upset because I wrecked his business dinner. I tried to tell him it wasn't my fault; that a House Elf had done it, but he didn't believe me. It's alright. I mean, I've had worse before.

The Weasleys were silent for a while and Harry peaked up at them through his hair. He suddenly felt very foolish. He was in no danger of getting in trouble here like he did at the Dursleys. These were good people. Ron's family. They wouldn't hurt him. Mrs. Weasley did look as if she might cry though.

"Harry dear, I know you mean to comfort when you say that you've had worse... but that's really not a good thing. I'm ready to take you to a healer right now based solely on the injuries I can see, never mind what you're hiding under your clothes. Surely you must know you don't deserve this kind of treatment. Why haven't you told anyone?"

Harry flushed in embarrassment. "I used to. When I was younger I told a few of my teachers and stuff, but they never believed me. The Dursleys told everyone I was a troublesome child and that I got into fights a lot. Even now they tell everyone who asks about me that I'm at a school for troubled boys. I'm pretty sure no one believes them, but no one cares enough to do anything about it..."

Mrs. Weasley made a sound suspiciously similar to a sob and enveloped Harry in an extremely clingy hug. Harry was slightly uncomfortable, especially because he was covered in bruises, but he just patted Mrs. Weasley's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

"Oh you poor dear, "Mrs. Weasley cried. "No one should be treated that way. Especially not you! Such a sweet, kind boy!" At this point she hugged Harry even tighter and he could no longer hide his discomfort. Mrs. Weasley was busy crying into his hair, but thankfully Mr. Weasley noticed his painful grimace.

"Molly, I think you should let go for just a moment. Harry can you show us everywhere you're injured? I'm sorry to be invasive, but we need to see them to know whether or not you need a healer."

Harry flushed again in embarrassment. He really felt like saying 'no', but he didn't want to upset the Weasleys when they were being so nice to him. Plus at least this way Mrs. Weasley would have to stop crying on him. "I... er... I guess that's alright. It really isn't that bad though." Harry said as he stood and gently removed his shirt.

The Weasleys didn't gasp so much as they just stopped breathing completely and then restarted harshly a moment later. They both looked as if they might be sick. "Molly, go send for Poppy and Dumbledore." Mr. Weasley said in a quiet voice. His face was ashen as he stared at Harry's torso. If this was the reaction he got from removing his shirt, Harry wasn't sure he wanted show them what all was hiding beneath his trousers. Though, he supposed now that he looked at it, the bruises did seem a lot worse than they were the night before. Also he could tell that at least one of his ribs was broken by the awkward way it was positioned under his skin...

After staring at Harry for a moment, Mr. Weasley assured him solemnly. "Don't worry Harry. We're going to take care of this. We won't let them hurt you again. Dumbledore will know what to do."