There's a battle ahead
The moment they got back home from school, Vernon shoved Harry into his cupboard and locked the door immediately. He wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong, but anything was better than being beaten senseless, he supposed.
Though, today Harry didn't really mind being locked away with his thoughts because for the first time in a while (perhaps ever); he was happy.
Teachers always had positive things to say about him, that was one thing he made sure of. (Despite the fact that uncle Vernon would call him "a swotty nancy boy" after each school report, he knew if his teachers had worse things to say, he'd just end up with a new fair share of bruises. So to him, the insults were something he could handle). But these kind words coming from Mr Lupin was different. Harry didn't quite understand his favour towards the rugged-looking teacher. In fact, he'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he wasn't slightly intimidated by Lupin's rough looking appearance. But after he got over the initial fear, he was rather drawn to his new teacher.
Aside from the praise he'd received, Harry also greatly appreciated the concern Lupin had shown towards his lack of friends.
None of the teachers have ever worried about me before... he smiled to himself before shaking the thought out his head. No Harry, don't be selfish, I should apologise to Mr Lupin for making him worry. he scolded himself gently.
Suddenly, his cupboard door swung open, making Harry violently flinch. A great big hand reached in and pulled him out of the dingy, confined space by his baggy short sleeved T-shirt.
The ravenette braced himself to be hit only for it to not arrive. Vernon let go and simply muttered,
"Dinners ready." before he trudged off, his heavy footsteps echoing into the kitchen.
Harry timidly followed behind, in pursuit of Vernon's foot steps. When he reached the dining room, he took his usual seat on the floor, (he was never allowed to sit with them on the dining table, that'd be asking for too much). He looked at his meek, pathetic serving of shepherds pie and frowned slightly at the sight, but ate it nevertheless. Without saying anything, he stood up when finished and began to collect everyone's dirty plates and placed them in the dishwasher, one his many unspoken rules was to never wait for the Dursleys to ask him to do anything. He should just know to do it.
Petunia brought the treacle tart out for dessert and Harry tried to conceal his excitement, it was his favourite, after all. But she didn't come over to him to give him a serving. Her beady eyes just scowling over at him as she sat down to start on her own slice.
Harry presented a sullen expression. He was still so hungry, his pleading eyes looking over at the pudding and then back to Aunt Petunia. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and uttered,
"What on God's earth is a matter with you, boy?"
He carefully chose his next words, "I... Er... I was just wondering, please could I have some dessert? Not a lot! But I've behaved... I haven't used magic today.." Petunia and Vernon flinched at the use of the word. He let out a loud gulp before continuing, voice barely above a whisper, "I did the dishes..."
Uncle Vernon scoffed. "You dare be so ungrateful, boy? We gave you dinner and that's quite enough for you. We need to save the food to make sure Dudders here grows up to be big and strong..."
But what about me? At this point I'm hardly going to grow anymore. He thought, self-consciously wrapping his arms around his frail frame.
"Now off with you. I've had enough of this nonsense." Vernon spat, his red face turning a few shades darker as his anger began to arise.
Harry did as he was told, not wanting to push his luck any further. He dragged his feet and decided to venture into the garden. Slumping himself against the tree trunk and pulling out a book he'd previously hidden in a plastic bag in a nearby bush.
He pulled out a familiar book that he'd started reading: Matilda by Roald Dahl. Reading it brought him comfort as he saw many similarities between himself and Matilda.
Pushing his, slightly askew, glasses up the bridge of his nose, Harry found himself getting encapsulated in the pages.
By the time the sun had almost set, he'd practically finished the whole book. Feeling content with his progression, the boy folded over the corner of his page, slipping it back into the bag and hiding it within the overgrowth of his garden.
Harry stood up and stretched, letting out a fulfilled sigh. But something caught his attention, just out the corner of his eye, staring back at him was giant black german shepherd from the other side of the garden. The dog didn't move upon being caught, other than his ears which pricked up slightly, proving himself attentive.
The black mass emerged from the bush and Harry thought if the dog wanted to, it could definitely eat him in one go; they were practically the same size, after all. He gradually approached the boy, being cautious Harry moved towards the dog, too.
When they were face to face with each other, the beast sat down playfully and began thumping its tail against the grass, sticking its tongue out to pant.
Harry reached his hand out, still slightly wary, and petted the dog on the head. When it gratefully accepted his attention, he carried on to fuss him.
"I've never petted a dog before." Harry whispered, smiling.
The dog barked affectionately, as if it could respond.
The ravenette took this as a sign to continue.
"Aunt Marge, never lets me near her's. Said she didn't want the likes of my filthy mitts on her 'precious baby'" he uttered the last phrase with disgust. "I always found that silly... Her dog stinks and he slobbers everywhere! It's not like you at all."
The German shepherd stood up and buoyantly began to chase its tail in circles, barking at it as he pursued it. However, of course, like everything in Harry's life, he was interrupted by his Uncle Vernon bellowing after him.
"HARRY! IT'S LATE, TIME TO GO TO YOUR CUPBOARD."
Harry frowned, letting out a disappointed sigh, before petting the dog on the head.
"Bye, doggy. Sorry we couldn't play any longer..."
The dog whined in response watching as Harry walked back into the house with slumped shoulders.
***
When Sirius arrived back home, he understood why Remus was in such a mood when he'd returned from work earlier that day.
"I really can't stand to see him like that.." he frowned after hearing his partner's foot steps enter the room. "You should've seen his arms, Moony.." Sirius bit his cheek from the recollection of Harry's damaged and bruised skin.
"What do you mean?" Remus said, the concern clear from his expression. He'd not seen the extent of Harry's injuries throughout the school day, only a couple bruises and the blindingly obvious flinch at the end of the day when Vernon Dursley grabbed at the boy.
Sirius hesitated, trying not the resurface his own old memories of abuse. "Cigarette burns." was all he could muster up the courage to say. Tears of anger and dejection began to well up in his crystal blue eyes.
Remus sounded an audible gasp and began to make his way over to Sirius who was slumped on the sofa.
"So it's as we thought... Those no-good Dursleys really are abusing their nephew.." Remus pieced together.
"It's worse than we thought, Moony," he established. "I- I can't believe Petunia could ever let this happen, Merlin, I wouldn't be surprised if she took part! Her own sister's son..." Sirius raged, saying the final part with a strained voice.
Remus put a comforting hand around his boyfriend's waist and pulled him closer.
"It's strange seeing him look so fragile. I really can't help but wonder how different he'd be if- if..." he drew a hitched breath. "If Voldemort hadn't have killed Lily and James..."
It'd been 6 years since the murder, but for Sirius the wound was still far too fresh. He figured it'd be that way for the rest of his life.
"I'm sure Vernon mentioned something about Harry sleeping in a cupboard, too."
Remus let out a sharp breath in response. "That's disgusting..."
"Just like everything else he's done to that poor child." Sirius laid his head on Remus' shoulder.
"We'll get him out of there, Padfoot, I know we will. We have too."
The two sat in a comfortable silence for a while, Sirius put his head on Remus's lap so the latter could gently run his fingers through his long black tresses.
Eventually the two fell asleep in the position, all Sirius could dream about that night was saving Harry from his life of anguish. Or a life where the war never happened. Everyone was alive; happy. Peter never betrayed them, Lily and James were never murdered. They lived long lives, raising Harry, watching him grow into a powerful, fearless wizard. Marlene and Dorcas were alive and well. Mary was never traumatised. Sirius and Remus were trauma- free, they didn't have to watch each and every one of their friends disappear or die.
***
Harry fell asleep that night feeling the happiest he had well, ever. The brief encounter with the dog and his new teacher, Mr Lupin, made him feel a sense of comfort. Oh, and he'd managed to get through the entire day without being hit by Uncle Vernon.
When he woke up the next morning he was, as per usual, elated to go to school but now he had his new teacher, he was even more-so. The boy made sure to stick to his usual routine for the morning: let himself be dragged out his cupboard and shoved into the wall by Vernon, be ordered to make everyone's breakfast, listen to their commands, get dressed for school, steal Petunia's makeup to try and cover up his darkening bruises (his attempts were useless), brush his teeth then try to tame his hair and finally wait by the door for Dudley to be dressed and ready so they could set off to school together.
Most days, Dudley would just run off ahead of Harry and talk to his friends, but today he had decided his priorities lay elsewhere. He spent the whole walk laughing at his cousin as he tripped over the fabric of his unusually large trousers. When Harry had finally rolled them up, Dudley stuck out his pudgy leg to make him trip over, falling straight onto the concrete with a thud.
Harry tried not to cry, but his knees were already incredibly bruised from Vernon's previous beatings and the pain was just too much to bear. His tears began to race out his eyes like waterfalls; once he started to cry, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop.
Dudley stared at Harry as he cried and then he started to laugh and taunt the poor boy.
"This is why dad always says you're a little nancy boy," he jeered, "You never stop crying!"
Still crying, he got up from the ground with a sniffle and dusted off his- already ruined- clothes. His watering eyes fixated on Dudley. As Harry glared at his rather plump cousin, he could feel his power igniting inside of him.
Dudley's feet slowly began to lift off the ground, Harry's hatred burning more than ever. He stared at his cousin, revelling in the distraught expression he presented as he lifted higher, higher, higher.
Momentarily, the ravenette wondered whether he should just let Dudley float off into space, but he dared not indulge that thought and instead let his cousin's body drop onto the cool, hard concrete. His lip began to quiver and his chubby face turned crimson as he quickly turned and ran the rest of his way to school.
Cogs turned in Harry's mind, processing what he'd just done. His hand began to shake, the nerves mixed with adrenaline rushed throughout his entire body.
What have I done...?