Chapter 1
Harry is already busy in the kitchen by the time the alarms around Private Drive went off. Cooking the bacon in a thick layer of oil and grease, just how the family likes it.
As it is late August, the temperatures are continuing to rise and gradually the long sleeves and trousers that he wears are becoming unbearable in the heat of midday, especially during his scheduled gardening time.
Harry gazed longingly at his arms, itching to find his hidden razors and slice through his skin. To feel the trickles of blood as they ran down and stained his arms. The night before had been unbearable, he remembered how he screamed as Uncle Vernon whipped him with his belt for hours, starting the cycle again after every time he lost count. The brutal attack on his back, a sore reminder of what happens when you receive a ‘freakish letter from your freakish friends, delivered by a freakish owl’. All the Dursley family could think was how bad it would be if any of the neighbors found out that the upstanding family at number four housed a monster.
The previous year and the chamber are taking a toll on Harry and his nightmares are increasing, similarly as the screaming in the night, begging for the pain to end after the tooth stabbed into his arm, releasing the poison into his body. Nobody seems to remember the pain he went through that day, the large ugly scar that adorned his upper arm, a painful reminder of what the headmaster has chosen to keep hidden. Dumbledore neglected to allow him medical treatment immediately, instead trying to find out what happened in his office afterwards as Harry was visibly sweating from the strain to maintain consciousness.
Harry, hearing the soft foot-falls of Aunt Petunia above his head, regained his composure and removed all the thoughts from his mind; he only has to make it one more day before the train ride tomorrow. Ensuring a blank mask on his face as Petunia came downstairs and started ordering him around, he continued making a traditional English breakfast, as per usual for a Dursley family Sunday breakfast, gently stirring the butter around the pan as he prepared the food.
He has to watch every day as they scoff their faces with food and luxuries that he will never be allowed to have. As Vernon and Dudley came down the stairs with barked demands of
“fetch my coffee boy” from Vernon
and…
“Make sure to give me 5 bacon pieces this time! Wouldn’t want to punish you again now would we?” Harry shivers and replies with a meek:
“Yes sir.” His head bowed down low avoiding eye contact.
For the most part of the day Harry is left alone to his chores with little interference other than for Petunia to give more specific instructions on tending to her prized roses.
He knew it was too good to be true by the time 6 o’clock rolled around. It seems the Dursleys have just realized that he is going away for a long while and want to make the farewell memorable. Harry follows the commands to come inside immediately and is fully aware of what is about to happen.
Cracking his knuckles, Vernon whispers in his ear “this is going to be fun boy, its a parting gift” chuckling to himself.
Dudley sat in the armchair of the sitting room eager to learn for once in his life.
“Do you know what my family has done to house you?”
“Yes sir” he replied, tears in his eyes as he faced him. Nose to nose waiting for the blow.
“I said, do you know what my family has done!” Vernon spat.
Silence.
Harry knows better than to interrupt or reply in this instance, doing so will only invoke a harsher punishment.
“Remove your shirt” he whispered again.
Harry froze. A million thoughts running through his mind. One standing out.
Why?
Harry did as he was asked obediently and the two men in front of him laughed at the sight of his arms, mangled and torn with a criss crossed design of lines, varying from red to white in colouration.
Vernon picked up the nearest glass and threw it as hard as possible at his chest. Splinters of glass embedding in his skin, leftover stale water dripping from his shoulders and down past his cuts, exposing them to the risk of infection.
The malnutrition over the holidays and the lack of proper sleep has left Harry feeling weak and unable to fight back and he could feel Vernon grasp his matted hair in his hand and slam him to the floor.
Without thinking, a gasp and a cry slipped past his lips. That only seemed to fuel Vernons rage as he repeatedly slammed him down and stomped on his back.
Harry was slipping into the cold welcoming of unconsciousness as he let his eyes close gently. Finally as escape to the pain, if only for a few hours. The wounds on his back would quickly become infected if they were not treated and his magic would only stop him from death to a certain extent, besides he's never wanted the Dursley home to be where he takes his final breath, that's just miserable.
He drifted in a semi-unconscious for a while before it seemed like the two whales had given up and gone to bed.
Before Harry could regain his bearings, excruciating pain erupted from his chest. His eyes flew open wide and back arched and his body painfully constricted. It felt as if his heart was ripped from his chest and shoved back in badly, like a botched transplant. He was gasping for breath like he had ran a marathon but simultaneously no noise let his lips as he worlessly screamed in the sitting room to the sudden onset pain
At that moment he knew that he could not stay there. Who knows what could happen before he made it to Hogwarts, the Dursleys would kill him before that happened.
Before long he realized that he had been lying half conscious for well over 6 hours and it was now 5am September 1st, the day to leave that wretched house for the next 10 months.
All his school and freakish belongings locked away under the not so locked door of the cupboard under the stairs which Harry's relatives have failed to notice has not been able to shut for quite some time now. Quickly gathering his trunk and broomstick in his hands he shuffled his way to the front door, semi crouched over his stomach and chest as if to ease the pain.
Harry made sure to check that he had his wand before opening the door ever so slowly so that so noise would escape. It was already brighter outside than at night which was pleasant to feel against his skin as a breeze blew past.
Recalling a magical transport called the ‘knight bus’ he extended his wand outwards, ignoring the crippling pain from his wrist. Absent-mindedly musing that they must have broken it at some point during the beating.
As if struck by lightning, a blue double decker bus appeared out of nowhere and shocked Harry enough to cause him to fall. Dazed and confused as a man helped him up.
He vaguely heard the strange lanky man asking where to.
He mumbled “KingsCross Station…. Please” as he sat at the closest seat to the doors, ready to escape at a moment's notice.
The nauseating feeling of being squished through space was an incredibly uncomfortable experience that Harry never wished to repeat. Abruptly coming to a stop, causing him to tumble forward and fall, embarrassing himself in front of a stranger for the second time.
“All right there lad?”
“Yes, all fine.” Harry replied shortly, having his patience very short due to the indescribable pain he suffered.
He dazedly walked through the station at a sedate pace, mostly empty due to the early time of 7. The train didn't leave until 11 so he had plenty of time to find a compartment early since no-one would be there yet. Maybe he could even ano he mused.
The barrier was intact when he arrived and he pushed through it gently so as to not raise suspicion. The scarlet red steam engine before him was shining like it had been cleaned recently and the platform was blessedly empty as he hauled his luggage in the holding cart. This took too much effort and he soon found himself panting with exhaustion and crouched down squatting to recover.
Harry meandered through the carts to the back of the train. Remarking to himself that he had never sat in this area before, always being dragged to the front by Hermione or Ron. He found a compartment but couldn't bring himself to sit on the seats, that required too much valuable energy that he needed, so he settled for the compartment floor to rest his eyes. Back leaned against the wall with the window, blinds closed and blood slowly seeping through the shirt he haphazardly put on before he left, hoping to awaken before the rest of the students arrived so that he could at least be somewhat presentable.