Disclaimer: This is a really sad story that I wrote when I was supposed to be doing homework. It is an eight-year-old Harry Potter talking about his abuse at home. Tearjerker. Please review, it's good, I promise. This story was on fanfiction before but then I removed it and put it on fictionpress. It didn't even get one review so I put it back here. So if you've read it on fictionpress don't tell me that I've plagiarized.

PLEASE REVIEW!

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Invisible child

By Savoy Truffle

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Hi my name is Harry Potter and I am eight years old. I have really messy jet-black hair and bright green eyes. My eyesight is not very great so I have to wear these really ugly round glasses that make me look like an owl. When I was one my parents and I were in a car accident which resulted in my parents dying and me surviving with nothing but a couple of bruises.

After my parents died there was nobody left to take me in so I was sent to live with my mother's horrible sister Petunia and her disgustingly overweight husband Vernon. They were horrible. They used me as their slave and then treated me like I was the scum of the earth. I cooked, I cleaned, I did everything for them and in return they would lock me up in the basement closet with a bowl of breadcrumbs as my daily meal.

Then there was my cousin Dudley, oh how I envied him. He was always spoiled rotten by my aunt and uncle, and given whatever he wanted. And me, the only new thing I ever got were my ugly glassed, everything else had belonged to Dudley. Dudley is the worst cousin you can possibly have. Every time I do something wrong or if he is just bored he beats me up. And my aunt Petunia thinks he is the perfect child, yeah right. My glasses are still taped together from when he would punch me in the nose.

And this was only when I was three and four. When I turned five me and my cousin started kindergarten. My cousin became popular right away and got everyone against me. I was teased constantly because of my large glasses, messy hair and oversized clothes. Bullies would constantly beat me up and shove me in rubbish bins.

The teachers hated me too. Although I was unusually bright for my age, they still looked down upon me. Probably because I had the unhealthy look of someone who had grown a lot in a short period of time, or maybe it was because I was so unnaturally thin or because my hair looks dirty all the time. But anyway, I'll probably never know.

There was one teacher that liked me though. Miss Harrison, a very friendly young woman in her early twenties. She had long, red hair and friendly brown eyes, she was really pretty. She was always nicer to me than she was to the other children, but this only led to more bullying from the other students and friends of Dudley's. But still nobody noticed the bullying and nobody had any idea about what happened to me at home.

You're probably wondering about that. You see when I turned four I started to do really weird things. I could make things move, I could change my appearance, and even weirder, I could talk to snakes. Every time my uncle would see me doing something like this he would think I was trying to be stupid and beat me up.

At first he wouldn't be that abusive, I would just get a punch or a kick about once a day. Then as I got older it got worse. He started coming home drunk and would punch me, kick me and use his belt on me, leaving dark bruises and huge gashes on my back. Once he even pushed me into a glass table and I was left with huge chunks of glass in my back. The when he was done he would throw me in my cupboard and lock the door, leaving me to bleed freely.

My uncle was smart though, even while he was drunk. He knew that if he didn't hit my face and hand, clothing could hide the marks. That's why nobody noticed and I was left to suffer silently.

One person did notice though. Miss Harrison. As I was taking my seat once during class, my sleeve got stuck on a nail sticking out of my desk. The collar of my shirt was pulled down to my elbow exposing the cuts and bruises my uncle had inflicted upon me. I quickly pulled up my shirt and sat down as if nothing had happened, but I could tell by the look in Miss Harrison's eyes that she had noticed.

She asked me to stay after class. Once everyone had left the room she asked me what had happened. I told her that I had fallen down the stairs. Of course she didn't believe me. She told me that she was somebody I could trust, somebody who could help me. So I told her, I told her everything. And she went straight to the principal!

She told the principal everything that I had told her and thankfully he believed her. I was called to his office and asked to remove my shirt. I clearly remember the principal gasping as he saw my injuries. The principal had me put my shirt back on and sent me out of his office so that he could call my uncle.

It turned out that my principal was an old school friend of my uncle. My uncle convinced him that I had been lying the whole time and had actually fallen down the stairs. I was suspended from school for a week for lying about such a serious thing. But as I was leaving the school Miss Harrison came up to me and told me that she would help me get away from my horrible family. She still believed me!

Of course my uncle wasn't happy that I had told my teacher and my principle about the abuse. During that week he started beating me more often, even when he wasn't drunk. My aunt would sometimes complain about my blood staining the white carpets. This just made the abuse even worse. My cousin felt bad for me and obviously wanted to help me but he didn't want his friends and family to hate him so he encouraged it. But it was obvious that he, like I, wanted it all to be over.

One day I woke up from my nap. I noticed my uncle standing over me doing something that comes to me as a blur. I had just gotten a beating and I was delirious so I wasn't sure what was going on. It was painful, that I can remember. Also I remember a lot of hands grabbing me in places that made me fell uncomfortable. I was so scared; I didn't know what to do. But anyway, what could a shrimpy little six year old do?

When I returned to school I was still shaken up, I didn't really understand what had happened. To make it worse I found out that Miss Harrison had been fired. The principal had gotten mad at her for trying to save me from my uncle. She was the only one who had ever loved me and now she was gone. It was all my fault.

At recess that day I went straight to the library, trying to avoid any passing bullies. I wanted to find out more about what had happened to me. I found a book called "Physical and sexual abuse". I already knew that the beating was physical abuse but maybe what my uncle had done could have been sexual abuse. I spent the whole recess reading and by the time the bell rang I had come to a conclusion. I had been sexually abused.

I desperately needed to tell someone what was going on but I was afraid that the same thing would happen again and I would get suspended again for "LYING", but then again, I really needed help and medical attention.

The when I was seven something miraculous happened. I was at the park, sitting under a tree, reading a book about friendship that my uncle had banned me from reading, he didn't want be to know what it was like to have friends. I was just about halfway through the book when a girl showed up. She had long bushy brown hair, almond shaped brown eyes, slightly large front teeth and she was holding a book that was much to advanced for her level. She was beautiful. She said her name was Hermoniny or something. We started talking and eventually we became very close. We would always hang out in the park after school and on weekends.

When I found that we were close enough I decided to tell her about the abuse. She was absolutely horrified! She tried to help me and tried to tell her parents but they thought that it was a funny game we were playing and laughed. A week later Hermoniny moved away to another part of town and I never saw her again.

After Hermoniny moved away I went into another depression. I stopped eating and skipped school constantly. My grades dropped and the hatred I got from my teachers worsened. Why was this happening to me? I was only seven, much too young to carry such a burden like this.

I remember walking down the street one day when I passed by a family. The lot of them had bright red hair. There were six boys and one girl, all laughing and smiling. They looked so happy. I was jealous, my dream was to have a family like that, with loving parents and siblings who loved me as well. But I knew this would never happen, not while I'm living with my horrible, cruel, hating family.

Now I am eight years old and the abuse still goes on. And still nobody notices, it's like I'm invisible. The abuse is getting worse and in the pass five years I have been raped over ten times. But I won't lose hope, I am still praying. Won't somebody help me, I, Harry Potter, the invisible child.

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Sirius Black cries as he reads the monologue found in his godson's diary, three days after he had passed away. He walks over to the fireplace and carefully picks up the urn which contained all he had left of his godson. He opens the lid and fingers the soft ashes. Harry's ashes.

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Disclaimer: *Snif* So sad! I feel so bad for poor Harry! *Grabs the Kleenex* Please review. *Blows nose* There will be a sequel coming up soon but only after I get a certain amount of reviews. The sequel should be about eight chapters long. Thank you.

Please Review!!!!!!!!