Well…after a few years off the writing circuit, my muse has finally come and spoken with me again!!!! This is my first Harry Potter fic. This was inspired by the Devil May Cry story, but WILL NOT FOLLOW THE CHALLENGE LINES!!!!!!!!! That being said…this is my story.
Disclaimer: These have become completely pointless. If I owned Harry Potter, I would be busy writing the next book, so obviously I don't own it.
Rating: T (may become M in later chapters)
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, swearing, suicidal thoughts (later in story)
Pairings: Will be revealed later. Muahahahaha!!!
The Loss of Something Human
If you were to ask anyone on Privet Drive about the Dursley's of Number Four, you would hear things like: "Garden is nice." "Wife's a bit nosey." "Son takes after his father, both are rather large." "Seem pretty normal." But if you asked them about Harry Potter, they wouldn't be able to tell you a single thing. Because as far as they knew, there was no Harry Potter at Number Four, and that was just how the Dursley's liked it.
If they knew anything about Harry Potter, they would probably think he was younger than he actually was. He was rather small for his age, due to lack of food, and he always wore his cousin's hand-me-downs, which were about two sizes two big, despite them being the same age. What Harry lacked in size, he made up for with his mind. He loved to read, and he would spend most of his time reading books that Dudley threw away. He knew that he couldn't show how smart he was. One time he brought his report card home to show his aunt he had strait A's, thinking she'd be proud of him. Instead of the praise he was expecting, he was slapped in the face and screamed at for doing better than Dudley. At the age of five, that can have some damaging effects on a child.
As Harry got older, he began to really notice the differences between how he was treated and how Dudley was treated. When Dudley started to cry, he would get fussed over by his parents, whereas Harry was yelled at for making a racket. If Dudley were hungry, he would get two or three helpings of whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Harry was lucky to get one bite of anything. And while Dudley received all the hugs, kisses, and 'I love you(s)' his parents could give, Harry was screamed at, occasionally slapped or punched, and constantly locked in his cupboard. Yes, that's right, cupboard. The spare bedroom, which was supposed to be for Harry, was filled with Dudley's old, broken toys.
One day, when Harry was almost eight years old, he woke up to his aunt's screeches.
"Get up you lazy brat and start breakfast! Vernon and Duddie-kins will be down in a minute, and you had better not make them wait!"
Harry snickered quietly to himself. There were a few times when he was grateful that his relatives weren't too kind to him, though they were fleeting. He didn't know what he would do if his aunt gave him a ridiculous nickname like "Duddie-kins".
Harry was in the middle of frying the bacon when he heard a thundering noise, and the plates on the wall began to shake. An unsuspecting person would scream "Earthquake!", and get under the nearest doorway, but Harry knew better. It was only Dudley coming down the stairs. 'Trust Dudley to come running the second he smells fried food,' Harry thought. Dudley burst through the kitchen door, and nearly crashed into poor Harry at the stove. Not surprisingly, Vernon was soon to follow.
"BOY! Why isn't our food on the table? You better not have burned it again, or you know what will happen!" Vernon yelled. Dudley snickered rather loudly. He absolutely loved it when Harry was punished, and wasn't reserved about letting him know. He quickly sobered and turned the fakest pout ever attempted toward his mother. "Mummy," he whined, "why isn't the freak finished with breakfast? I'm going to starve!" Harry, not wanting to escalate things any further, brought over the eggs and bacon and laid them on the table. " 'Bout bloody time! And where's my coffee?" Vernon questioned angrily. Harry rushed over to the countertop to grab the coffee pot.
Now, when Harry got older, he literally kicked himself over this. He knew he should have seen it coming, but like they say, "Hindsight is 20-20." Dudley, seeing a golden opportunity to amuse himself and get Harry in trouble at the same time, jutted his bulbous leg out. The unaware Harry tripped, and the coffee pot flew from his hand. The glass pot came crashing to the ground, shards going everywhere, with Harry falling right after it. The steaming coffee fell on a very … er … "sensitive" part of Vernon's lap.
"YOU LITTLE BASTARD!" Vernon howled. He was growing more purple by the second. He rounded on Harry who was nursing his hand, which had a rather large shard of glass embedded in it. Vernon waddled up to Harry, grabbed him by the hair and flung him into a wall. Harry curled up into a ball as best he could to try and protect himself as best he could.
"I'm s...sor…ry Uncle Ve…Vernon," Harry whimpered, "Dudley tripped me."
"You DARE to blame your clumsiness on MY son?! YOU UNGRATEFUL FREAK!" Vernon struck him over his head. Harry looked up, spots clouding in his vision.
"It wasn't my fault," Harry protested a little more forcefully.
"YOU'D DARE TALK BACK TO ME?! RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME?! We gave you a home, clothing, and food, and this is the thanks we get? You little shit!" Vernon punctuated each syllable with a blow to Harry's fragile body. Harry felt an odd sensation running throughout his body. It was like pressure building, a spring ready to uncoil. Finally he couldn't take it, and tried to force it out of him. Suddenly, all the windows and glassware in the kitchen imploded, sending shards of glass everywhere.
Vernon halted his assault on the poor boy, and looked wildly around the destroyed kitchen. Petunia was in the corner shrieking about the broken glass and Dudley was futilely trying to hide his girth behind his mother. Vernon looked at his nephew, whom had blacked out on the floor. He sneered (AN: ewww…I can imagine his attempt and it's pretty disturbing) down at him and picked him up by the hair. He waddled as best he could, he was still in pain from the coffee, toward the cupboard. He tossed Harry in, slammed the door, and bolted it shut.
Harry awoke a few hours later, his body aching all over. He was disoriented because of the darkness around him, but the lumpy mattress he was on and the smell of cleaning supplies alerted him that he was in his cupboard. He lied down willing the throbbing in his head to go away, but the raised voices coming from the kitchen allowed him no such luxury. He could only catch snippets of the conversation, and eased himself out of bed to get closer. In hindsight this was one of the smartest decisions Harry ever made.
Harry pushed against his cupboard door, but it wouldn't budge. Harry closed his eyes and imagined the door opening for him. He slowly opened his eyes and discovered the door was open a crack. Harry had done this a few times before to get some bandages or sneak some food. He opened the door and edged his way down the hall to the kitchen door.
"Really Petunia, the brat's gone too far this time! He's got to go!"
"But Vernon what if those…those people come looking for him?"
"Bollocks! They haven't come yet, and if they do, we'll say he never lived here, and we've never heard of him."
"Yes, yes you're right Vernon. The boy has to go. Just look at what he's done to you! My poor darling! You won't be able to get it up for weeks!" (AN: Yes…she did just make a reference to THAT. Shudder in fear at the images MUAHAHAHAHA!)
"Now, now pet. Don't worry about that…"
"No! He's damaged you forever! I don't care how you get rid of him Vernon, just do it! And make sure no on e will find him!"
"Don't worry pet. I know just what to do with him. Luckily one of my old college mates is Assistant Chief Constable. If someone happens to find him, they won't trace him back to us. He'll be gone by tomorrow."
Harry backed away from the door shaking from head to toe. He could hardly believe what he heard. 'He's talking about killing me! Do they really hate me that much?' Harry thought to himself. He heard his aunt and uncle getting up from the table, and quickly made his way back to his cupboard and shut the door quietly behind him. He didn't make a single sound, until he heard Petunia go upstairs, with Vernon slowly hobbling behind her. When he heard a door shut, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Harry still couldn't believe what he'd heard. His family, his only family, hated him so much they were willing to kill him! He had never felt so miserable and unwanted in his entire life. With silent tears pouring down his face, Harry grabbed his two extra sets of clothes and made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a plastic bag from under the sink and put his clothes in it, along with a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. Harry glanced at the clock and saw that it was half-passed midnight. He went out the kitchen door into the backyard. Harry opened the gate and started off into the night.
Harry was getting more and more tired with every step he took. He had been walking for a while, but it was still fairly dark out. He had made it to a woods that was at least a couple miles from the Dursley's house. He decided to take a rest on a large boulder near him. He set his bag down and leaned his hand against the rock, but quickly pulled away with a yelp of pain. He looked at his hand. It still had the large piece of glass stuck in it, only now his skin had re-grown slightly around it. Harry grit his teeth and pulled at the glass. When it finally same out, Harry had tears pouring down his face and had bit through his bottom lip to stop the screams. He tore off a part of his spare shirt and tied it around his hand to stop the flow of blood.
Harry felt the wind blowing against him and shuddered from the cold. He heard a twig snap behind him and quickly tensed up. He slowly relaxed, thinking it might have been a deer. Then he heard a deep chuckling behind him, and curled up into a tight ball shaking like mad.
"Well, well, well. Hello little cub."
DUN DUN DUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Who is this newcomer and what is he going to do with Harry??? Brownie points to whoever gets it right first!!
As always, reviews are most appreciated, and flames will be laughed at then used to burn down houses.
TILL LATER!!!!!!