KITTY
TW(for this chapter): abuse
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Harry sat in his cupboard silently, letting the sound of skirring rats chewing against the thin walls of the Dursley's home filled his ears. Staring into the darkness, he doubted much, stared back or spared him a glance. But, that was fine he supposed. Harry wasn’t sure, well, he wasn’t sure of a lot of things. He filled with his hands methodically, his head perking up to hear those who walked and chartered outside of his confined space.
He recognized Petunia’s voice anywhere, though he couldn’t make out the words. As he heard Dudley cry Harry could only assume it was her effort to comfort the boy. That was nice, Petunia had the habit of doing things she wasn’t asked to do, only out of the kindest of her heart, or that’s what she assured. Harry couldn’t help but be sceptical, but he supposed he better trust her word anyway. The Dursley family was never wrong, and he was, always. But he couldn’t help but have to bite his tongue every time the saying was shoved down his throat. Though fully uncertain of what he’d actually say.
Harry hummed lightly to pass the time, it was a song he heard Uncle Vernon play once or twice — uncertain at the actual name himself, but Harry was still fond of it. It comforted him in a strange way. Perhaps someday he could learn the lyrics, in their entirety. With that, he quieted his hums with the sound of Dudley’s fake cries fading along with the melody. Harry shut his eyes and drifted off, to a surprisingly dreamless sleep. For that, Harry was thankful.
———
Shoved out the door of the back of the family car, new, from some money Vernon acquired, of course, did not disclose the source of to the curious 9-year-old “freak” that lived in his home. Harry gazed at the entrance of the schoolhouse, he felt the oversized hand me downs hang loosely on his much too small build. He stood in a stance that somewhat shield his body, the sun gleaming down on his black hair, parts of his fringe a grey tint, caused by fading of cheap dye Aunt Petunia tried to plaster onto the white strands.
Harry’s eyes glimmered as he shuffled forward towards the school, given no instruction what to really do. Looking back he was startled and shoved by Dudley. Losing his balance quickly he looked on as Dudley ran into the school, then looking back towards the car he was met with the embarrassed and angry gaze of both his aunt and uncle. They weren’t pleased, Harry took the hint and tried to make his way inside the school.
———
The school day was ordinary, or what Harry would assume was ordinary. He wasn’t very sure why he was sent there. The Dursleys had not sent him to school when younger, he learned most things during his earlier childhood by reading books Dudley took home with him. Or sneaking peeks at bits and pieces of the books the Dursleys owned in Vernon’s office.
During most affairs during the school day, Harry found himself alone, not that he especially minded, he was used to it. But he couldn’t miss the sneers and whispers he got, it overwhelmed him. He found it much better to sit in the back of the class, you were less noticed. Much more of a shadow than a person in other’s eyes, which Harry found could be important at times and decided to stick with it.
Recess was just as lonely. He found himself early on trying to approach Dudley’s group of friends, where he once more learned sticking to the shadows could serve him better than being in the open. Shadows he went.
Sitting on the edge of the schoolyard he wrapped his arms around his midsection, curiously, looking at the cars that passed by. Then startled by the soft meow he heard at his side, it sounded strange, more like a person mimicking a cat than anything. Not that the young Harry minded or noticed. The cat sat next to him, the cat’s green eyes shined at him, not too far off from his own, much less vibrant ones.
Harry gave a shaky smile and gazed at the cat, arms still tightly around himself. He reached out lightly to touch it on the head. The cat seemed hesitant itself, but allowed the gesture. Harry’s smile grew, but it seemed out of practice. “ Oh, hello,” He said softly, lightly petting the cat on its head, bandages coating his fingers. The cat’s tail waved in response, “ Who, um, are you, Mr Kitty?” Harry asked, tone dripped in curiosity, but slightly blank in emotion. The cat turned its head, almost as if it was mimicking a human covering a laugh it brought a paw to its grey face.
The cat let its tail hit harshly against the fence making a rattling noise. Harry jumped — gazing at the place the cat’s tail had swung. “ Ms Kitty?...” Harry asked quietly, the cat looked away again but then gave a soft meow in return. Harry took that as reinsurance and gave a soft sigh, “ ah, alright, sorry,” He hummed, nodding thoughtfully, taking mental note of the response. “ What are you doing here — what do you need?” Harry asked, a slight stumble over his words as he spoke.
The cat, or, Ms Kitty gave no response. Softly rubbing her head against Harry’s arm, Harry didn’t say much more after that. He wasn’t used to talking, let alone to cats. He wasn’t sure what was, courteous to cats anyhow, he would never want to offend someone — er thing? Were, cats “things”? He supposed so, but that might be offensive. Anyway, being silent was better than being offending, Harry decided. The cat seemed please with that, she sat silently as well next to Harry in the shade of the playground. Listening to the rushing sound of tires that went by the schoolhouse till the end of their recess.
———
Harry stared at his hands as he sat in the backseat of the car, Duddley babbled on to his all too eager parents of the tales of school. Harry scratched at the new bandage which had found its way onto his sickly face with his wide doll-like eyes.
For a moment, there was silence in the car, as Dudley kicked his feet on the back of his mother’s chair within the car. Softly, Harry decided he wanted to speak, “ Uhm, Aunt Petunia? “ He started softly, “ What is it boy?” Was the response he received, he shrank down but gained what little courage the boy held left and spoke more, “ Today I, I met a friend, “ he ignored the overdramatic bark of laughter from his cousin, “ her name is, her name is Ms Kitty. She's a very nice cat, “ Harry managed to get out. His voice was quite hoarse and weak, he stumbled over words but tried to make it as clear as possible, in hopes he wouldn’t be yelled at.
“ Don’t tell me you took the damn thing home did you!” Petunia had accused, voice harsh as always as Vernon mumbled under his breath about the freakish, useless, boy who talks to cats in his free time. “ Ah - no, no I didn’t, ma’am, “ Harry rushed to assure, “ You probably have some disease now! Damn you boy, if you get that sickness on my sweet Dudders I swear you’ll pay. It probably bit you didn’t it? “ She carried on, not allowing Harry to speak, which his voice was barely audible anyway.
The car turned into the driveway and Harry was promptly told to get out, as much as he wanted to, he gave no remarks or argued further. He knew it wouldn’t do him much good as it would hurt him. The small boy stood in a cower, as he heard his uncle get out from the vehicle with a ‘thump’, grabbing Harry by the sleeve and dragging him inside, Petunia talking with Dudley about what the boy had wanted for the closely coming Christmas in a few months from then. The spoiled boy rattling off the list upon lists of items he wished to receive, and most likely would get, for the holiday.
Harry, on the other hand, felt doused with freezing water, it chilled him to the bone but he bit his lip. He could hear the words said to him by his uncle, as he was grabbed by the arms tightly, but his brain refused to comprehend them. Prioritising on not physically feeling anything, best he could.
The feelings didn't all escape him yet, as he still shivered as the water hit him, and he still gasped and flinched at every slash and hit he had received. It hurt, but eventually, Harry supposed he got used to the feeling.
———
Harry dragged a hand through his mostly black hair, shaking his head slightly, hair matted, as he sat in the backyard of the home. He shook and felt himself grow tired with the pace that the sun quickly went down over the way. His eyes shuttered as he tried to keep himself awake, uncertain if his tiredness was the spawn of pain or lack of sleep. But through his fogged vision and ever closer closing lids, he saw the cat within his gaze. Coming in and out of view he slowly stretched out a hand from his balled up form.
The cat rubbed her head against his palm, Harry gave a small smile under his knees which he kept close to his face protectively. The cat sat against him, giving his shivering form a small bit of warmth from her own small form. Harry closed his eyes at last and fell asleep without a sound, dreamless as it seemed to be more and more often.