The beginning
Easter has passed already and everything is beginning to calm down and go back to normal. Well, as normal as it can be when your Defense teacher is forcing you to use your blood to write with. Which seems illegal but why would they believe me if I don't really have proof. The weather is warming up, the snow is melting, exams are far away enough to not worry about them just yet (except Hermione and some other students who already began studying). Harry woke up and began to get dressed as quickly and quietly as possible in order to not wake up his dormmates. Especially Neville who always seemed to be a lighter sleeper than the rest. He kneels on his covers and silently pulls his bedcurtains shut leaving a small crack to see out of. Sitting back down on his bed he picks up a book someone recommended since it was about offensive seeking techniques. He doesn't open it at first though, the cover is the same color as the Remembrall Neville had in first year. He smiles slightly as he reminisces about the first time he rode a broom and how freeing it felt.
Suddenly he hears sheets rustling and a quiet groan come from around him. In a panic he shoves the book under his pillows and sits in front of them like a guard making sure to be quiet as to not arouse suspicion he is hiding something. He looks around and sees that it was just Ron making the noise, no one else.
"Uuuaaagh...good morning Harry," Ron said sleepily with a yawn as he began to slowly get up.
Harry, still a bit shaken up from being surprised, replied trying to hide his lingering anxiety, "G-Good morning!"
He waits until Ron leaves the room before closing his bedcurtains and quietly pulling the book out.
Phew almost got caught.
Wait, I'm not at the Dursleys' I'm at Hogwarts a literal magic school. I don't have to hide my things anymore.
Books or anything that mentioned magic or anything supernatural were not allowed at the Dursleys house. Nothing about wizards, witches, time travel, aliens, dragons, even star wars and star trek weren't allowed. Heaven forbid mentioning anything like Dungeons and Dragons, Uncle Vernon would have an aneurysm. All in all the rule pretty much extended to most sci-fi things. This rule was enforced when Harry was around 7 came back from school asking if he could go see a movie with his friends. Vernon asked what movie it was.
Harry replied "It's called Labyrinth and apparently it's about a girl trying to get her little brother from the Goblin King and she has to go through a magic maze!"
As soon as the word "magic" left Harry's mouth, his smile disappeared from his face he knew he did something wrong. Was it my tone? Oh. Oh no. Vernon's forehead vein popped out, his face turned the color of the inside of a plum, and he stood up with enough force and speed that the vase on the table shook. He raised his hand and shouted;
"WE DO NOT TALK OF MAGIC IN MY HOUSE."
*SMACK*
Harry stumbled back but didn't dare speak or move any more he knew what would happen if he did when Vernon got like this. It's not his fault though right? I shouldn't have talked about ma-that.
"YOU ARE NOT TO READ OR SEE ANY OF THIS NONSENCE UNDER MY ROOF. UNDERSTAND? Vernon continued
"yes...," Harry mumbled quietly holding back tears.
"DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND." Vernon shouted.
"Y-YES! I understand!" Harry internally cringing because his answer started off too loud.
"DON'T TALK BACK TO ME. I AM THE ADULT YOU ARE THE CHILD." Vernon stated raising his hand again.
Harry didn't want to get hit again so, in a panic he tried apologizing, "YES YOU'RE THE ADULT. I'M SORRY!"
"Don't use that tone with me!" Vernon snapped back at Harry as he hit him again. Harry began to cry, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he clutched his torso. Vernon grabbed Harry but the collar by his shirt and yanked him towards the stairwell. He continued with, "Stop crying you're not a baby anymore. Maybe a week in the cupboard will teach you to behave." He opened the cupboard door and tossed Harry inside roughly. Harry slammed to the floor and whimpered covering his head with his left arm clutching the other close to his body. Vernon slammed the door hard and whispered, "Learn to behave and this won't happen."
Harry watched silently as Vernon walked away to greet Dudley who had just come home from school. He felt something warm on his leg and looked down. It was hard to tell in the dark light of the cupboard and the fact that his vision was a bit blurry, but that's normal right? Everyone sees colors mixing together right.? The warm substance was a dark liquid dripping from his fingers and running down his leg.
Oh, I'm bleeding...
Then the pain hit him and he let out a cry. He saw Aunt Petunia sharply look his way and he slammed his hand over his mouth muffling his cries. He realized his mistake when he tasted metal, he had used the wrong arm to cover his mouth. He used his right arm which was the one that was all scraped up and bleeding. He panicked and tried to stop it from bleeding by keeping it pressed against him arm. He remembered hearing someone from a program Aunt Petunia watched talk about putting pressure on a wound to slow blood flow. He wasn't sure what pressure exactly meant but he thought it had to do with pressing. It did eventually stop bleeding a bit over ten minutes later. That is pretty big... The scrape was deep in the middle of his forearm but extended down to his elbow and was a bit jagged looking. Like my scar. It was probably cut by the wood I mean it is rough.
It dawned on Harry that people would see the scrape. That would be bad...I really don't want to be locked in here again. Oh! I wish I could hide it, but it's too hot out to wear Dudley's old jacket. I just wish it would go away. GO AWAY. I HATE YOU . Suddenly he looked down and the scrape wasn't there anymore. He touched the spot and was met with searing pain.
"Owww... Huh. I guess it just looks like it's gone," Harry mumbled as quietly as he could in order to not be heard by Aunt Petunia who he could hear in the kitchen "helping" Dudley with his homework, she was mostly doing it for him, while he whined about how hard it was. He wasn't asking any questions though because of the number one rule, "Don't ask questions." Harry wondered if it would soon become the number two rule because of Uncle Vernon's reaction to him saying ma-that word. The rule about questions extended to Dudley though he wasn't punished as harshly or really at all. Harry can't remember a single time his Aunt and Uncle did anything more to Dudley than quip, "Don't ask questions." at him.
Harry was only let out of the cupboard to use and clean the bathroom and eat. He looked a bit sickly and his wound was scabbed over. He could tell because when it got touched it didn't hurt as much.
I hope I used those band ages right,
When he was let out to clean the bathroom he made sure nobody was home before putting bandages over his wound. He did this also because of Petunia's program, which always talked about, "Wrapping wounds with band ages". He saw something labeled as medical bandages which looked like band ages so he figured they were the right thing. Wrapping up something you can't see is rather hard but just when Harry was beginning to get upset the wound appeared again the bright red a stark contrast from his tan skin.
Before going to school Harry removed the wrappings and thought of what he could say to his teacher since he obviously couldn't tell her the real reason he was gone for a week. He didn't need to make an excuse since before he left the door Aunt Petunia told him to tell the teacher he was sick. It was rather convincing since he did look a bit ill. The scrape eventually healed up all the way and Harry forgot the incident even happened. Though every time he got a bruise or cut it always seemed to just disappear before he had to leave the house.
"...arry? Hey, Harry do you hear me? Harry?"
Harry was startled out of his, flashback? Memories? Daydream? Morning-dream? Well, whatever it was he was startled out of it by Ron calling his name. He was surrounded by his other dormmates who all had worried expressions on their faces. "Oh umm y-yeah I hear you. Good morning?"
"Harry? Are you okay? You weren't responding to us." Neville asked softly with a concerned expression on his face.
"Yeah I'm fine, I'm just tired." Harry replied.
Seamus, who was already dressed, looked at Harry for a bit not believing him at all. He stood up and glanced over to Dean, who like him had finished getting dressed, he nodded. With a exasperated sigh Seamus took Dean's hand in his and started leaving the dorm room "Okay, if you say so. Me and Dean are gonna head down to breakfast, see you there then okay?"
With Seamus and Dean
Partway down the stairs, out of earshot of everyone, still holding his hand Seamus whispered to Dean. "He always says he's fine even when it's so obvious he's not."
Dean rubbed his hand with his thumb, "I know, at least we can trust Ron to help him."
"I just wish he would let us help him."
"Me too Seamus, I don't like sitting by helpless either." Dean stopped in his tracks, "But we don't have to be completely helpless. We have the DA meetings and can try to invite him to go to Hogsmeade with us more."
Seamus's eyes lit up and he smiled, "We don't even have to ask specifically him. You know how when you see either him or Ron or Hermione the others aren't far away. OWL's are this year, Hermione is going to want to study very often, you know how she gets toward this time of year. We can ask her to study with us and maybe she'll bring the other two with her. And the studying will benefit all of us even if she doesn't bring the others."
"You're a genius Seamus!" Dean exclaimed and gave him a hug and peck on the forehead.
In the Dorm room
"Ron, really I'm fine." Harry was starting to get annoyed with his best friend's questioning.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes I'm sure now go to breakfast. I'll follow you after I get dressed."
"Fine, I'll go but you better come down too." Ron said as he left the room and went down the stairs.