“Harry...Harry...Help me Harry!” Sirius' voice grew further away, as his body lurched back through the transparent veil.

Harry shot up in bed; his brow swathed in perspiration, and his throat was raw from screaming.

His stomach lurched in fear, when he heard the clanking of a key opening the many locks adorning his bedroom door, and his uncle's uttering profanities at the top of his voice. Harry backed up against the headboard of his bed, as the walls vibrated with the force of the door straining against the metal hinges, and the door swung open violently; Harry could hear the crunch of the doorknob splintering the gyp-rock of the thin walls.

Prickles of fear made his hair stand on end, and his heart began thumping so loudly that he thought his chest would burst from the blood pumping through his veins.

Harry winced in pain, as the base of his spine made contact with the headboard, and he could taste the tinny taste of blood in his mouth as his teeth pierced through his bottom lip.

Hedwig began to flap her wings frantically rattling the cage, and squawking loudly.

Harry said a silent prayer that she would calm down, so that his uncle didn't decide to turn his rage on her; he regretted not having sent her to the Burrow. If he could just figure out a way to unlock her cage without magic, and set her free, perhaps she could squeeze through the bars on his windows.

“I warned you about that ruddy screaming. I have to work in the morning, and I'm not going to put up with your bloody wailing night after night. I'm going to put a stop to it right now,” Vernon bellowed, as he advanced on Harry; rage suffusing his face a deep shade of red.

Suddenly, Harry gagged as his uncle grabbed a fistful of his pyjamas and yanked him up; the collar was digging into his throat, where his uncle's beefy fist was clutching on. He threw Harry's slender frame against the bed, and though he weighed little, the springs crunched against the frame of the bed, and his eyes watered, as the crack of a palm against his cheek, flung his head to the side with the impact. He could see Vernon's arm about to swing again from the corner of his eye, and braced himself for the impact; another thwack of the hand caught him under his eye.

“Dad, stop!”

Dudley's frantic voice made his father freeze; his hand suspended in mid-air, as he was getting ready to give his nephew another crack across the face with the back of his hand. Dudley was standing in his pyjamas; one arm in his dressing gown, the other hanging limply by his side. His stared at his father; his eyes wide with horror, and his pallor, a chalky-white.

“Please Dad...leave him alone,” he implored in a strangled voice.

Vernon stared at his son, his jaw hanging down.

“Dudley, this freak,” he said, spittle flying from his mouth, “is responsible for almost killing you last summer.”

“No dad, he saved my life,” Dudley insisted vehemently.

If Harry's brain hadn't been befuddled with pain, he would have been gobsmacked that his spoilt, lump of a cousin, was not only defending him, but was possibly saving him from serious injury.

Vernon reluctantly lowered his arm.

He looked down at his nephew with a scowl on his face. “Count yourself lucky Potter, that your cousin is so forgiving,” he growled, as he rubbed his fists together, “because, I'd have knocked the stuffing outta you.” He pointed his chubby finger at Harry. “But I'm warning you Potter. Wake me up again with your bloody screeching, and I promise you that you won't get off so easy next time.”

He stalked towards the door. “Come Dudley, get back to bed. We've already been disturbed enough tonight,” he grumbled.

“I'll be there in a minute dad,” Dudley said softly.

Vernon glared hatefully at Harry once more, and shook his head at Dudley, as he left the two boys alone.

Harry pressed the heel of his hand against his throbbing eye. He'd hazard a guess that he was going to have a nasty black eye.

He let go of his eye, and hesitatingly grabbed Dudley's proffered hand, as the large boy stared down at him; his eyes wide with concern.

Harry blinked in surprise at Dudley's gesture.

“Are you okay Harry?” he asked, his bottom lip trembling.

“Yes,” Harry said, as he grit his teeth at the throbbing in his eye.

“Just a minute,” Dudley whispered. “I'll get some ice,” he said as his slippers brushed softly against the plush carpet. He slipped quietly out the door, and closed it carefully behind him.

Harry gaped at Dudley's departing form. Harry couldn't help but wonder who this caring and considerate stranger was, and what he had done with his spoilt brat of a cousin. Obviously, his experience with the Dementors last summer, had caused the boy to do some serious introspection.

Harry clutched onto the bed post, as his head began to swirl. He could feel the tickle of something dribbling down his chin. He pressed his fingertips to his chin, and stared at the blood on his fingers. He closed his eyes for a minute, to stop the room from spinning, and his eyelids fluttered open in surprise, when he felt a cool fabric brush against his cheek.

“Thanks Dudley,” he said as he took the cold flannel from him.

“I'm sorry about Dad, Harry. I'm sorry about everything.” He flushed. “Most of all, I'm sorry,” he lowered his eyes, “about the way that I treated you all these years. I realised a lot of things when th-that thing was--” he stopped, his voice cracking.

“It's okay Dudley,” Harry said wearily. “Why don't you go back to bed. I'll be alright.”

“Are you sure?” the larger boy asked warily.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, it's not that bad. You go on then.”

Dudley studied his face for a moment. “Alright Harry. Goodnight.”

Harry lay his head down gingerly on his pillow. He struggled to keep his eyes open. He couldn't afford to sleep. But how he was going to avoid sleeping for the rest of the summer? He didn't know, but one thing was for sure, he couldn't sleep without having these horrific nightmares about Sirius falling through the veil, and his own part in the whole debacle was burning a hole in his heart. If only he'd learnt Occlumency, if only he'd waited before rushing off to the Ministry. If only he were somebody else, but Harry bloody Potter...