Legs pumping furiously, Harry ran for all he was worth. He was fast, he knew that, but he had been feeling poorly for almost a week now, and he wasn't at his best. Still fast enough, he knew, but only just. If Dudley and his friends caught up with him...Harry grit his teeth and pushed on. He wasn't going to think about that.

He knew he was small. Too small, and too little. At the same time, Harry's malnourishment was his greatest advantage and he exploited it ruthlessly. What were a few scrapes and cuts if he managed to get a way in one piece? What did it matter if he dirtied himself while squirming under a fence if it meant getting out of another beating and taunting?

Harry swallowed harshly, scraping his hands on the rough bark of a tree as he held onto it for leverage as he made a severe turn to avoid crashing into anything. He just needed to run through the park, then squirm inside the abandoned shack. Once there, they wouldn't be able to get to him and he could sneak out another way once it was safe.

As long as Harry didn't do anything freaky, his relatives mostly let Harry's appearance slip their notice.

“Potter!”

Harry gulped and pushed on. He hated it when they called his name. Then he gasped as someone suddenly barrelled into him, knocking him to the ground and kicking his back. “Gotcha, pansy.”

“I'm not a pansy!” Harry protested, eyes narrowed and chest heaving. He turned around and struggled to sit up. The boy who grinned maliciously down at him was new; Harry didn't recognise him. But whoever it was, it surely couldn't bode well for him. What made Harry scared, though, his mouth dry, was that this boy, unlike the rest of Dudley's friends, wasn't fat, overweight or otherwise unable to keep up with Harry. This boy was lanky and skinny.

The boy kicked him again and Harry winced, biting his lip and scrambled to get away. “Yes,” kick “you,” kick “are.” kick. Harry moaned, clutching his stomach, eyes angry and burning. The boy grinned. “Snivelling pansy girl! You gonna cry?” Another kick, this time harder, and Harry grunted. “Dud!”

Red faced and panting, Dudley finally arrived, a couple of other boys in tow. He grinned as he saw Harry. “You got the freak!” Dudley came closer, and Harry hurriedly tried to regain his footing, but Dudley pushed him back down. “Piers too fast for ya, freak? Grab him!”

Harry was small, he knew that, and in moments such as these, where Dudley and his friends easily overpowered him, hands grabbing and pulling, he hated it. Something tore, and Harry bit his lip. Aunt Petunia'd have his Uncle give him a lashing for ruining another shirt. He cried out as they pushed him up against a tree, scraping his back and causing more harm than their fists normally did.

Then Piers suddenly slapped him. “Shut up, you little pansy! Your cousin's such a bloody girl, Dud. Does he ever stop snivelling?”

“I'm not crying!” Harry protested vehemently.

“Shut up, freak!” Dudley punched him in the stomach, and Harry gasped silently, his air leaving him and for a short while, Harry couldn't breathe.

“Oh, Dud,” Piers breathed, “did you hear that?” Dudley blinked dumbly. Piers ignored him, and leaned closer to Harry, his putrid breath making Harry scrunch his nose up. “Say after me, pansy: I'm a snivelling pansy girl.”

There was a loud guffawing of laughter.

Flushing with shame and glaring, Harry shook his head. “Don't deny me, pansy!” Piers slapped him, then knocked the wind out of him again. “Say it! 'I'm a snivelling pansy girl'!”

Harry glared through the tears of humiliation brimming in his eyes. “I...I'm a snivelling pansy girl,” he whispered.

Piers grabbed his hair and slammed his head back against the tree. Harry grunted, a lone tear escaping his eye. “Louder, pansy!”

“I'm a snivelling pansy girl,” he repeated, voice rough.

The resounding laughs were more hurting and damaging than any beating could ever have been. Angry tears burned in his eyes and Harry furiously rubbed them away before they could fall. Piers and Dudley laughed louder than the others, and Piers hit him again. “Oh! Look, he's crying! Again, pansy, again!” Harry bit his lip. “Say it!”

“I-I'm a snivelling pansy girl...”

The day that Dudley met Piers was a day Harry hated. After that, the Harry Hunting changed. No longer the only fast runner, he had more problems getting away, and the abuse changed from being purely physical.