𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘
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!TW!
!YELLING!
!CHILD NEGLIGENCE!
!CHILD ABUSE!
!MENTIONS OF SA!
!VIOLENCE!
!EATING DISORDERS!
!FIGHTING!
!SUICIDAL THOUGHTS!
!DEPRESSIVE THOUGHTS!
!SELF DEPRICATION!
!SLURS!
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Third person, Hermione’s POV
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Hermione Granger had always been an intelligent person. Many would mistake this for an uptight personality, but she was truly very caring. And at that moment, she cared very much for her friend, Harry Potter. Late at night, about two days ago, she had been messing around with the present Weasley children, Ron, Ginny, and the twins, when they heard muffled shouting from downstairs. They had gone quiet trying to hear more.
“You know, Freddy, I do believe we brought our extendable ears, correct?” Hermione would usually disapprove of unnecessary antics but her curiosity often got the better of her, letting George go on.
“Couldn’t be more correct, George.” Fred gave a lopsided grin. He apparated away and quickly reappeared behind Ginny, making her squeak. She hit his shoulder.
“Oh, would you quit it!” Her face often went red when she was angry. George laughed and ruffled her hair.
“Settle down, Ginnykins.” She was about to retort but Hermione’s patience could only last so long. She snatched the extendable ears and lowered them down the stairs. They all crowded around each other as the conversation downstairs became clearer.
“. . .Moody, I told you I wouldn’t wait any longer than two days. I’ll go with or without you.” Remus seemed angry about something.
“Lupin, be sensible. If there’s even a chance of a threat, is it worth putting Potter in danger?” Moody’s heavy boots made the floorboards creak under him as he blocked the doorway.
Molly let out an exasperated huff. “So we’re going to leave the poor boy with definite danger over a rumored maybe attack?!”
“You know very well how many times we’ve had irreversible damage done over a ‘rumored' maybe attack.’” There was a silence. They all knew he had meant Sirius and Harry’s running blindly into dangerous habits. Remus Lupin’s shoes could be heard making sharp steps, eerily cutting through the silence.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare,” All eavesdroppers upstairs felt a cold shiver go down their backs at a tone that Remus only used when he was ready to fight, which was extremely rare. “ You don’t get to talk about him like that—either of them. I don’t care if you don’t come with me. Tonks, Arthur, get the damn car.”
It sounded like he, Tonks, and Arthur had left with a grumbling Mad-Eye following after them, mumbling about ‘these idiots will get themselves killed.’
Hermione pulled the ear back up looking around at the others.
“What do you reckon they were talking about?” Ron sat back.
“Isn’t it obvious? They’ve gone to get Harry, but Moody had said there could be an attack if they get him, death eaters, definitely. And Lupin seemed in a rush to get Harry, Mrs. Weasley said Harry was already in danger, so that’s probably why. But what’s happened to Harry?” She rolled off her analysis, furrowing her brows at her question.
“You got all that from an out-of-context conversation?” Ron seemed astonished.
Ginny rolled her eyes. “‘Course, at least one of you has to be smart in the relationship.” She wiggled her eyebrows as Ron went red.
“Shut up, you booger.” He shoved her playfully onto the pillow.
“What trouble d’you think good old Harry Potter’s gotten himself into this time?” Fred, or George, had taken off a bite of a chocolate frog. “Damn, Helga Hufflepuff again.” Tossing the card to the side.
“I don’t know but it worries me.” Hermione bit her lip. “He’s been at the Dursley’s all summer, how does he even manage to get in trouble so often? This better not be another dementor case.” She planned to lecture her friend after she made sure he was okay.
“Exactly. He’s been at the Dursleys. Ever crossed your mind maybe he isn’t the problem?” Ron frowned defending his best friend. “See, I can be the smart one too, y’know.”
The thought sunk into her. The Dursleys. She had never truly met them but her boyfriend had, and the stories were never good. She was sure they were far worse than Harry would ever admit to them. There were so many things he hid from them. At the start of their friendship, it had made her watchful but now she had just grown into always expecting the unexpected from Harry Potter. It was funny. Hermione Granger happened to be best friends with The Harry Potter, yet she had never seen him as the savior celebrity, but as a skinny teen who often doesn’t finish his homework and gets in trouble too much. “They wouldn’t, they couldn’t, they know The Order would come after them if they knew. Dumbledore said-”
“Yeah, well, Dumbledore is dead.” Ron was frustrated. He always had the nasty habit of lashing out when he was frustrated. There was quiet. “Dumbledore is dead, the weasel killed him, and Hermione, I’m sure without Dumbledore, the Dursleys don’t give a damn.”
Hermione knew better than to argue when Ron was in a fit.
All she could hope was that Remus would be lucky enough to get Harry in time.
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3rd person, Harry’s POV
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Harry Potter was arguably the most unlucky person on earth. You couldn’t think of anyone as unfortunate as Harry.
From the first hours of the day to the last, he was lucky if it was only bone whitening cleaning. It was always the same, even after the. . . incident. Petunia would come to unlock his door, he’d make breakfast, then clean, maybe an uncomfortable yelling from Uncle Vernon, then go back to his cupboard. Today was no different. It was now 11 a.m., and he was tending the garden.
Harry had specifically been ignoring the lilies. He wouldn’t touch them with his dirty skin. He was no longer pure enough for them, and quite frankly, he felt as though the lilies had abandoned him. He couldn’t feel her anymore, and he couldn’t ever let himself feel her ever again. His skin was no longer his, but belonged to Mr. Reeds.
He noticed a patch of clovers that had begun to grow across the garden. Aunt Petunia would call them wild and messy. Many would describe him with the same. He knelt to observe them. They looked like tiny green flowers. Like his eyes. He had always heard that the four-leafed ones were lucky, so why were there so many in the garden of the unluckiest household in Europe? The thought made him smile. It was funny. You know, like, in a weird fucked up way.
He looked through them. It was extraordinary, he could collect so many four-leafed clovers here. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen so many in his life. It was almost like magic.
By the time he collected every four-leafed clover he could find and cleaned every room in the house, it was lunch and his hands were sore with cleaning products. He remembered when he was little, his hands were soft but by the time Uncle Vernon decided he was coordinated enough to function the laundry machines, it was time to work. He often got hurt and still adorned scars around his body from his many mishaps of younger cleaning days. There was the time he had burned his arm while cooking and because the oil went everywhere and made a mess, Vernon had made him clean all of it up with his tongue as punishment. His stomach was sick for days.
He was more skilled in the kitchen now. His current lasagna work could tell you that. Cooking was perhaps one of the only chores Harry enjoyed. He could decide what happens, he creates something warm and good. He quickly served the table and the family came to sit. He always stood and watched and could eat if there were leftovers, not that he usually felt like eating anyway.
“My talented Petunia, this is delicious.” This house liked to be delusional. They all knew it was him who made it but somehow that translated to Petunia being a wonderful chef when in fact, she could burn microwave mac and cheese.
She did a soft giggle awkwardly. She had been weird since that night. Harry didn’t understand why it hurt her so much, if she wanted to she could have stopped it. Even he tried to act like it had never happened, though, he often did get panic attacks out of nowhere, worse than they usually were before Mr. Reeds. Dudley had come back, probably last night, and always tried to lock eyes with him, but Harry avoided his gaze. He couldn’t look him in the eye. He hated that there were this many people in his life that knew. He wasn’t sure what Dudley was thinking nor what he would say. It all just made him feel very sick.
“Boy! Could you possibly be capable of getting us drinks or are you too daft?” Vernon barked at him. Harry would scramble through the kitchen to bring a pitcher of iced tea.
“Sorry, sir,” he mumbled, he probably looked like a sick mouse, scurrying around in fear like that. He felt weak, he hadn’t eaten in a while, and it seemed his wounds would never heal, he was very tired and sore from those cramped, sleepless nights.
“Vernon, dear, how’s work?” She had recently taken the habit of changing the conversation if she felt there was a potential interaction between Harry and Vernon. He wondered if this was her trying to protect him. It was far too late, though the thought was nice.
He chewed loudly. “Splendid, Mr. Reeds has finally invested in our new screw project, it’ll be a game changer in the screw industry. We’ve been working on screws that screw themselves.” He seemed very proud of himself. Harry wished he'd go screw himself. The mention of the man made the whole room tense although Vernon pretended not to have felt it. Harry’s breath quickened. He felt like his body was slowly shutting down. He slowly lost feeling in his limbs.
“I’m. . . glad, dear.” Petunia choked out. Dudley seemed like he was thinking. Interesting. Was always a rare sight.
“Was it worth it?” came a voice from where it seemed Dudley was sitting but Harry could hardly believe he had said that.
“What?”
“Was it worth it? Was it?” Dudley’s knuckles had turned white as he gripped his fork entirely too tight.
Vernon spluttered for a moment. “Well, I mean, of course! This could be a very important deal for me, son-”
“So important you’d slut out a kid?” If looks could kill, the plate in front of him would’ve shattered by now.
Silence loomed over the table. No one had spoken about it. Ever. It was always the elephant in the room, a cursed topic.
“You listen here, Dudley.” Vernon’s face was purple. “Don’t you dare speak to me that way. I am supporting this family!”
“No, you’re supporting you. Harry’s a part of this family. Are you supporting him? Or are we stuffing him in a cupboard and selling him to old men.” Dudley had stood up angrily. Petunia’s face was ghostly white.
“Shh! The neighbors might hear-”
“Fuck the neighbors, mum! The two of you would have been in a cell a good long while ago if the bloody neighbors knew what went on in this house!” Vernon stood up, the same height as their massive son.
“You!” He turned angrily at Harry. Oh, fuck my life. “You put him up to this! You put thoughts in his head! Forcing my son to fight your battles, you pathetic, evil, little parasite!” Harry stumbled back, eyes looking around panicked searching for escape if needed.
“He didn’t do anything! He’s never done anything but wash your bloody boxers! Look at him! Don’t you see? The neighbors don’t look at him because he’s a freak, they look at him because he always looks like he’s a skeleton that’s been beat around by a bear!” Thanks, Dudley. You really know how to make a guy feel better.
There was a smack. Petunia had hit him. Her eyes looked watery and Dudley’s eyes were wide in shock. “Don’t. . .” Petunia spoke in a shaky voice. “Don’t go around telling lies about this family! We have done nothing but care for that boy! We didn't ask for this! He was dumped on our doorstep without anyone asking if we had anything to say about it because NO ONE else wanted this, this, this snotty little know-it-all, so yes! If there’s something he can do for us at least once in his life, then bloody hell it was worth it.”
Harry doesn’t know if she meant it but it carved a stab in his heart. She was trembling and Harry stood numbly ready to cry and tear his skin away. No one else wanted him. He felt like a bug, being talked about while he was right here. “I’m sorry.” Harry hadn’t noticed the beads of tears rolling down his face. They all looked at him. “I’m sorry.”
Why would God create him only to create misfortune for those around him? He was even immune to the bundles of clovers in his pocket. Vernon was ready to implode. “Get. Out. Get out! Go! Go to your room!”
Harry didn’t want to stay any longer if it meant potential hurt. He hurried out the door to his cupboard leaving more yelling behind him. Harry hated yelling. The yelling was nearly always about him. Everyone he's ever known had something to yell at him for. He hugged the knees cramping against his chest trying to ignore the burning in his nostrils from all the chemicals in such a small space. He wished he could at least know what day it was. Probably a Sunday, it felt like a Sunday. He also hadn't gotten any letters recently. Harry supposed once they made sure the wizarding world’s mascot was still alive they forgot about him again.
He was sure they were all still fighting in the kitchen until one of them, probably Aunt Petunia, would storm off. Surprisingly, he found his face to be dry. His eyes burned hot and his throat felt thick yet his body wouldn’t, couldn’t produce any more tears. All of a sudden, Harry felt hands. Hands everywhere, all over him. It made him shiver and tense. He often got vivid sensations of that night. Of Mr. Reeds. Oh fuck. He wished he wasn’t such a pussy about this. He was better than this, stronger than this. He wasn’t some little girl. This incredibly tight room made it all that much worse. He felt trapped. Again. Like a frantic mouse. Harry wished he could have some way of keeping track of time, although it’d probably be useless now anyway when he felt the walls spiraling and his vision go dizzy.
For the narrator's sake, he didn’t know how much time went by until he came to. Harry hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep. All he could process was that a bang had woken him up. The ringing in his ears made it hard to know whether he had heard it or not. Then there was a clicking of heavy shoes down the stairs as there was another knock at what he now recognizes as coming from the front door. The voices were muffled but he heard Vernon distinctly gasp.
“You! But- Why are you here!?” Vernon’s panic was evident. Had they found out what happened? Harry was also scared but tried to collect his situation logically. If Vernon was nervous around the visitors, they were probably either an even bigger danger to Harry or someone whom the Dursleys hated because they were associated with him.
“Don’t act stupid, Dursley, though you wouldn’t need much theatrical talent.” A low, gruff voice he recognized.
“Come now, Moody, no need to make this longer than it has to be.” Was that Mr. Weasley? He shook Vernon’s hand with a grin. “Hello there, Mr. Dursley, I do believe we’ve met.”
The distaste in Vernon’s voice was transparent. “Yes.” He pulled away from Mr. Weasley quickly. Harry heard a lighter pair of footsteps come from above down the stairs.
“Vernon, dear, who’s-?” She went silent and pale.
“Alright, Dursleys, enough of the niceties, where’s my boy? We’re here to pick him up.” Remus! Oh no. Remus. Harry didn’t want him to find him here like this. Fuck.
“No.” That was Petunia. “No, we won’t let you have him!” Sigh. They put up a fight every year. He wondered if they knew it was useless.
“I’m afraid that’s not up for debate, Mrs. Dursley. Where’s Harry?” Remus seemed angry. Why? Harry hadn’t thought he’d be provoked so easily.
“He’s under the stairs!” When had Dudley gotten there? Or had he always been in the room? Whatever the case, Harry was thankful yet his heart was beating hard. He felt embarrassed to be found by The Order in this state.
“Popkin!”
“Thank you, young man.” He believed that was Mr. Weasley. Harry could hear all seven footsteps approaching.
“Alohamora.” There was a soft clicking as the locks came undone. His eyes adjusted to the light and saw Moody, Mr. Weasley, Remus, and Tonks standing in front of the fear-stricken Dursleys. His mouth felt very dry and his ribs ached. He thought he must’ve looked like an owl with how big his eyes went on his very small body.
“Harry?” Tonks said softly. Harry hung his head shamefully. He tried to pull himself out, stumbling. His stomach felt sharp pains. How long ago had he eaten?
“Sorry,” He mumbled. As soon as he got his bearings and stood, his vision went spotty again as a large force pulled him close.
It had been Remus, pulling him into his chest for a hug. From where his face hid, Harry couldn’t see Remus’s dark and angry face. His eyes burned red. The room felt thick. Harry was unsure whether it was he or Remus who was trembling.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t do anything! I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it!” This time it was Dudley who had tears streaming down. Harry never thought he’d see the day. Well, technically he didn’t see it, his face was being smushed.
Tonks’ hair was fading from a deep blue to a hot fiery orange-red. Moody’s voice boomed through. “What exactly did you brutes do?” His voice shook with anger but he pressed it down.
The Dursleys refused to speak, Vernon left gaping like a fish, and Petunia pale and tear-ridden. Harry hadn’t known when he and Dudley became friendly but it was somewhere after the dementor incident. Dudley had never spoken up, til now.
“I’m so tired of it! He’s hurt and tired and hungry!” Dudley had his hands balled up, laying angry eyes at his father. “You let him touch him! I hate you! Look at him! Look at what you’ve done!”
“He what.” Remus let go of Harry who was then held close by Mr. Weasley. Remus was deadly quiet. Harry was just burning with guilt and embarrassment. He wished they could just go like they normally did. He wished they never knew.
“Go on. Tell him what you did!”
Vernon trembled.
“Tell him!”
“He probably enjoyed it, the damn fag!” Vernon snapped. And then there was a hard sound of knuckles hitting fat skin. Remus now had his hand around the collar of Mr. Dursley’s shirt and the other raised to hit him again.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” He punched him a few good 7 times, much to Petunia’s horror, until Mad-Eye grabbed hold of his arms and held him back.
“Watch yourself, Remus, we don’t want muggle attention.” Remus looked rabid. Vernon groaned and cursed as he stood up clutching his face.
“You freaks! The lot of you!” This time it was the youngest Dursley who landed a fist to Vernon’s nose. Petunia shrieked.
“Dudley!”
Harry sort of watched feeling half asleep. None of this felt real. Like it was all happening so very slowly.
“Guys?” Harry muttered. “I don’t feel so good-” His knees went weak and he collapsed on the ground. Probably malnourishment, chemical intake, wound, or exhaustion. Didn’t matter, regardless, the world went black.
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3rd person, Remus POV
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He knew it.
He fucking knew it. He knew they were hurting his cub. He told Moody they should’ve gotten him sooner! Only to find out they’ve starved, mistreated, and let someone fucking touch his nephew. He was going to kill them. He didn’t care. Wizengamot be damned. Fuck Moody for holding him back.
“Guys?” He was worried, Harry didn’t look good, he was pale and looked almost unconscious. “I don’t feel so good-” And then his legs gave out. He forgot about his mission to maul the Dursleys, running to his cub and picking him up gently. He felt like a very fragile porcelain doll. He was fragile and looked like a doll but Remus knew he was the toughest person he knew.
“We have to get him out of here.” Mr. Weasley reminded.
Moody had not forgotten his anger. “Listen here, ya big fat oaf and you wrinkly old prune, there will be consequences, don’t think otherwise! You’ve committed child negligence, child prostitution, child abuse, assault, and battery against the wizarding world's leading war hero. That’s a long time in Azkaban or your muggle equivalent of.”
“They deserve worse,” Remus sharply glared at them under his breath, careful not to disturb the unconscious child in his arms.
“Tonks, go get the boys' trunk and school things.”
“Aye aye, captain.” She tried a joke but she was too gloomy. “Where might I find such things?”
“Upstairs, my spare bedroom, it’s locked in the closet, But I think his bird is in the cupboard.” Dudley wanted to help, for the first time in 17 years. Dudley Dursley wanted to fix things.
“Now see here!-” Vernon started.
“No, Dursley, you see here! This boy is like a son to me. You don’t even know the honor of being chosen to home this boy. You don’t deserve him.” Mr. Weasley very rarely became violent, so it came as quite a shock to all when he shot a bright orange hex that hit Vernon right at his fat stomach as he writhed in pain.
“I do believe our business is done here. The proper wizard and muggle authorities will arrive shortly. Young man, I do believe you’ll keep them here til then and cooperate as such.” Dudley nodded. The group left promptly, but not before Tonks slapped Petunia and mumbled something about a ‘lousy name for a weed’.
Remus carried Harry out to the car, staying in the back seat with Harry and Tonks. Arthur was more acquainted with muggle devices so he drove with Mad-Eye riding shotgun. Never once did his eyes stray from Harry’s body. He noticed how he often trembled and gasped. Remus’ heart ached. They could figure this out when he woke up, together.
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3rd person, Harry’s POV
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Fuck, his head hurt.
Was it just his foggy brain or was the world moving? And rather bumpily at that. His vision cleared and confirmed he was in a car. A blur of ginger hair was driving.
“Good, you’re up.” Mad-Eye’s creepy eye had spotted him. What happened?
“What-?”
Remus had a tired smile. “Hey, Harry. Happy Birthday.”
The Fuck? Was it really his birthday? He hadn’t noticed-. Calling it a ‘happy’ birthday felt like satire. “My Birthday?”
“Yeah, don’t tell me you didn’t get the memo!” Tonk’s hair was a playful pink with streaks of dark blue and orange. “C’mon, mate, hit your head that hard, did ya? Happens once a year, kinda annually?”
Harry tried to push away the overwhelming dreariness that fell over his bones and sat up. “I forgot, I s’pose. Why’re we in a car?”
“Thought death eaters might be onto us. It’s slower but going back to Grimmauld the muggle way as undercover. Plus, Arthur’s been dying to test this girl out.” Moody explained.
“Yeah, but don’t go crashing this one in a tree.” Mr. Weasley smiled.
“Don’t think I’ll be going to the whomping willow anytime soon. Don’t think she likes me, left a nasty cut on my leg last time.” Harry looked out the window. England was so tranquil on the muggle side.
“Speaking of nasty cuts, Dursleys do a good number on you, eh?” Without looking, Harry knew that Remus was glaring at Moody. He stiffened.
“Yeah.”
“Among the various things we need to talk about, what needs immediate attention at this moment? Hungry, pain, headache?”
“No.” Lie.
There was a silence with just the car humming. “Wanna talk about it?” Tonks tried.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Harry I think we both know there is something to talk about.” Remus reached out to hold his hand but Harry found this conversation to be easier if he didn’t have to make eye contact.
He pressed on. “Is it true? What your cousin said. About. . .”
“. . .Yeah.”
“When? Who?”
“. . .Dunno, like a couple of days ago, Uncle Vernon’s work friend, I think. He-. Uncle Vernon said he’d help his screws if I, you know.” Harry picked at his nails to not cry. Remus felt hollow and heavy at the same time. Moody wouldn’t admit how his heart broke. Mr. Weasley, as a father, clenched the wheel in bated breath. Tonks had a dead face but her hair showed off her emotions.
“Did your Aunt know?”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I-” Glass shattered as the car was thrown into the air crashing upside down. There was a flash of green, as green as clovers, then chaos.
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Word Count: 4,434
Finished Date: November 26th, 2023, Sunday, 4:31 am (I’m so tired)
This took so fcking long. DAMN. I know literally just the last chapter I said I’d only take 4-8 days to release a chapter but this took forever. I’ve just been so busy but I swear I haven’t lost motivation. I have so much for this story. Can you tell I’m tired? I know it’s going super slow rn but the way it’s looking, I think we get to finally get to do the whole time traveling bit and see some Harry and Draco action next chapter so stay tuned. Please comment, I love it so much. Feel free to comment on any mistakes although, I’m not gonna lie to you, I probably won’t fix it, I just don’t care enough to. No Beta We Die Like Men. Signing off.
With Love,
Rae Mina
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