Chapter Text
Harry’s eyes fluttered as he woke from his restless sleep. All he could see was Cedric’s death over and over again as if on repeat. Every night he would go to sleep he would start dreaming of that horrible night and wake up spasming again. He felt like he was going mad. Madam Pomfrey had told him the pain and the aftershock he experienced from the Cruciatus Curse would go away within 48 hours but almost two months later in the smallest bedroom in private 4 he still felt them as he woke up. Scared to cry out in pain he gritted his teeth trying to keep it all inside, like always. He had to be strong Dumbledore said, but he couldn’t, he felt like he was crumbling and fading he almost enjoyed the chores given to him this time, it helped him dissociate from the pain and anger and sadness he felt inside him, just bursting to come out. The morning-to-night routine without a moment to sit was obviously unhealthy considering how little he was given to eat but he pushed through the tiredness, both mental and physical just to be able to keep up this perception of normality, or at least what was normal for him he guessed. As he lay in the threadbare mattress that was falling apart from years of wear and tear he thought of everything in his life, trying to take stock, desperately trying to find a reason to live. What did he have to look forward to? A death like his parents, more of Cruciatus Curse from Voldemort and his supporters, more betrayals from Ron? More lectures from Hermione? Neglect from Dumbledore? Or maybe more abuse from Snape and Draco?
He was a freak, a freak with nothing to live for. Would anyone even miss him if he died? Maybe Sirius but Harry was sure he missed James and was just looking for it in harry as if Harry was supposed to stop being himself, forget the thoughts and worry he felt constantly and smile just to make Sirius feel like his James was still there.
He was so tired, tired of pretending to be normal, tired of living without any true meaning other than fighting Voldemort again, tired of pretending to be James for Sirius and a normal teenager for his friend and a hero for Dumbledore. He just wanted it all to stop. He just wanted all this to end. He wanted to feel again, something other than hopelessness and the apathy he felt. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose trying to center himself and trying to shake himself of this particulate line of thought. Slowly he got up and put his feet on the floor trying to use that sensation of the cold floor to center himself. He wanted to scream, he wanted to go back to bed and just forget. Sleep and never wake up.
Pushing away from the wistful thoughts he slowly made his way out of his room after a quick change of clothes, walking to the bathroom before anyone else woke. Slashing the cold water to try and wake him up and wondering if today the day Ron, Hermione, or Sirius would finally send him a letter that bought him some sort of information he begged for. He really was disappointed with the way his friends spoke in their letters. The lack of information while hinting that they were all together, involved in something they wouldn’t tell him. As if they were happy and excited for Harry to join as if they forgot or didn’t care about what had happened to Harry in June. As if Harry forgot how Sirius had once again chosen to follow Dumbledores orders rather than spend even one night with harry, to just sit beside him as his wound was being healed. He wished just once there was someone to hold his hand and tell him everything was okay. That someone else would take care of him rather than him having to save the school or the world. Just once. Was that so much to ask.
He walked to the kitchen to start with his chores, first make a breakfast for the whole family (that he would never be able to eat), then he needed to start working on the garden, after which he would need to clean the whole house, vacuum then mop. Ah the redundant chores that helped him keep his mind off the vicious assault on his character done by the Daily Prophet. He smiled bitterly just wishing once again that this wasn’t his life, or if it was there was someone to protect him from the evil and hate of the world.
Smiling in a self-deprecating manner he started on his list hoping he could shut off his mind for some time. He could feel the cuts in his arm that he had done the day before. He focused on the pain and the task in front of him suddenly the meaningless unwanted thoughts stopped and he just focused with all he could on the task he started.
Towards the end of the list of chores list he realized it wasn’t even 4 o clock, he used his time while cleaning the house to keep his ears open to hear whatever he could about the news of the world. And just like any day before he couldn’t find anything related to Voldemort.
He scoffed at the thought of the momentary hope that today might have been the day when he realized what was happening outside his dreary neighborhood. Pulling on a hand-me-down jumper that was way too stretched he walked towards the park in his area. As he sat on the swing, he rolled up his sleeves and looked at the blood clotting on his latest scars. He almost wanted to smile but he felt no energy to even do something that basic. Rolling the sleeves down once again he started softly swinging. He wished he could fly, on his broom or any other way, away from this, this life this dull existence of only pain and hopelessness.
Suddenly he hears voices approaching him “. . . squealed like a pig, didn’t he?” Malcolm was saying, to guffaws from the others. “Nice right hook, Big D,” said Piers. “Same time tomorrow?” said Dudley. “Round at my place, my parents are out,” said Gordon. “See you then,” said Dudley. “Bye Dud!” “See ya, Big D!”
He wondered what his friends or even Sirius would do in a situation like this, a childhood bully who lived to make his life miserable. But from what he heard from them they never faced anything like that before they reached Hogwarts. Even Hermione had a group of friends and never really faced any discrimination, that’s why Ron’s comment hit her so hard in the first year. She was used to having friends and now thrown into this new world she just couldn’t seem to get her baring. But that was all old news, ancient history. As he looked at Dudley, he wished he could feel something, anger, rage sadness, fear!! But he just felt empty as Dudley stomped up to him, he tilted his head waiting for Dudley to start his usual hostility and verbal abuse, but Dudley surprisingly just looked liked he wanted to say something and wasn’t sure how. Odd, in all the years he knew Dudley he had never been at a loss for words, oddly this was the first real funny thing he had experienced in the last few days.
“You okay?” whispered Dudley. Surprised Harry looked up to see a genuinely worried Dudley looking for signs of distress from Harry.
“Yeah, I guess, same old same old, you know?” said Harry trying to reassure his cousin who’s worry was starting to make harry feel uncomfortable. He heard a soft chuckle from Dudley “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t admit to anything bad even if there was something. I heard you, you know, you sometimes scream in while you sleep, about someone called Cedric?”
“Yeah he was a kid from school, he was killed in front of me, can't seem to stop thinking about it, but ill be okay, I always am,” said Harry again trying to reassure his cousin. Dudley looked pensive for a minute as they both sat quietly, swinging quietly when Dudley said “This semester one of my classmates died, and we got counseling for it. It messed me up but the worst part was why he died, from parental abuse. The beatings and physical abuse he received ended up getting infected or something and he died, in class, he just fainted. I laughed when he fainted you know, he was always skinny I called him a runt and thought it was funny you know? He reminded him of you and so I treated him the way I always treated you. When he fainted, I thought it was just for attention? Nothing bad can really happen to skinny runts, I have seen how many times you get beating and how little food my parents give you. And if you could handle why couldn’t this kid. I am still reeling from his death but not for him. Sure, I’m guilty of how I treated him but more because I think of how we treated you all your life. I guess what I’m trying to say is, sorry, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I just want you to know I’m so sorry. You deserve better and I wish you could get away from all this.”
Harry felt choked up, he didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want to hear this, and he got up off of the swing and just said “It’s getting dark out, guess we should head back.” Dudley just gave him a soft smile gratefully as if he thought his apology would be violently rejected and this response was not hostile. As they walked home harry started feeling a sense of darkness and doom. For a second, he was unsure when he started hearing his father’s voice asking his mother to take him and run. “Dementor” he exclaimed. Terrified, he grabbed Dudley’s arm “RUN !!” He screamed at Dudley and pulled his cousin as they both were facing their worst fear and they ran home. As soon as he entered number 4 Private drive’s gate the dementors stormed towards them. Harry still hadn’t got his wand back from his uncle, he was stuck terrified, defenseless as he pushed his cousin into the house. Dudley was almost catatonic and therefore Harry had to use all his remaining strength as he picked his much heavier cousin and pushed him into their house. He could see the dementors almost stuck, unable to come near number 4, private drive. Guess those blood wards are working. As the adrenaline drained from his body and his flight response started dissipating, he saw that Dudley was still having trouble, jumping into action as his uncle and aunt started screaming at him, he ran to the kitchen grabbing a chocolate bar and rushing back to Dudley’s side “Eat, you need chocolate. It will help, trust me.”
As harry finally just sat, still blocking out his aunt’s questions and uncle’s scream as he watched Dudley’s color finally returning. Letting out a breath of relief he turned to look at Petunia and said, “It was dementors, but I think the blood wards stopped them.” As he looked back out the window. Petunia’s harsh intake of breath meant she understood exactly what that meant, and how bad things could have gotten if harry didn’t pull Dudley into the house. He let out another breath and just collapses as the events of the day just finally flooded his mind, the nightmares, the apology, the dementors, and the unending feeling of exhaustion when suddenly as Petunia was trying to explain what all this meant to Vernon, a screeching old owl flew into the house, followed by a tiny owl. He took the letters from both owls and read them without emotion, both expressing worry and terror for his safety, asking him now to stay home at all costs, telling him that dumbledore would fix any issues and to be patient. He scoffed slightly at that and just crumpled and threw them away from him as the presence of those words offended him. He looked at Vernon who still hadn’t stopped bellowing, terrified about his son. He couldn’t believe he was jealous of this, but he was. No one would ever worry about him this way. A sense of apathy and exhaustion again washed over him, he then looked at Dudley “Hey, how are you now?” Dudley was now almost back to his normal color, giving harry a barely-there smile “Better, did you eat any of this chocolate?” he extended his arm offering his chocolate bar to Harry. The gesture warmed his heart and made him feel hope for Dudley, hope for a relationship with the boy as cousins, as equals. Murmmering a soft thanks he looked back at Vernon “Please sir, I need my wand. To protect everyone better to make sure none of this happens again!”
His uncle's face turned purple and he struck harry across his face so hard he was thrown back and fell away from him “Listen hear you good for nothing boy! You are the reason all this freakishness is happening to us good normal people, because of you Dudley almost got hurt and you dare to ask for more, 'll show you what you deserve” he picked harry up by his hair as the rest o the residents of the house screamed at Vernon to stop, loudest of all was Dudley who physically pushed Vernon off Harry. “Stop dad, he saved my life and I’m tired of all of you treating him this way. Please just leave him be. Give him back his things he can just exist with us in peace until he needs to go back to school. Dad, I’m begging you, do this for me.” Dudley beseeched his father looking him straight in the eye, hoping to get him to feel some compassion for the boy who was now sitting at the end of the staircase where he was thrown, who had a faraway, glazed look in his eyes. “Please, dad! For me, please.”
Vernon looked at Petunia who had her hand to her mouth and was staring at him with wide eyes, sure she stared at the boy and hit him for things but the sudden violence Vernon showed always scared her a little and he could see it in her eyes.
“Fine.” He growled as he walked to the cupboard under the stairs and threw it open. “Take your things boys, I won't touch any of this that’s for sure.” Harry just nodded, looking down as he made his way to the cupboard under the stairs and lugged the truck out of it and up the stairs. His mind feeling sluggish as he had hit his head pretty hard both times Vernon tossed him around, his cheek still swollen, and he knew he would have a black eye in the morning. All he wanted to do was sleep, as he walked past Dudley, he whispered thanks still keeping his head down, eyes glued to the floor. This was his life, but Dudley’s intervention was something he was grateful for but would never have expected.
Storing his things away pulling out his wand, he didn’t feel any connection to it anymore just a sense of doom, he slipped it under his pillow fed Hedwig, and lay down hoping maybe tomorrow would be better.