Dudley for his part did give Harry a very sorry look as aunt Marge lead him away, but sorry looks weren't good for much in this place, Harry thought. Now he was alone and was sure to be ganged up on, if not by the other boys than by the psychologist that seemed to think he knew what was best all the time. Sure enough, the moment after Dudley disappeared out the front door and it clicked locked again, the psychologist, Bentham was sticking his head out of his office door and calling for Harry to come in and see him.

"Have a seat Harry," Bentham said. He was in his thirties and looked far too chipper to be working in a place filled with so much sullenness.

"Dudley's aunt was able to gain temporary custody of him, but not of you. She's retained a lawyer for Mr. and Mrs. Dursley."

"She didn't try to get custody of me," Harry said bitterly, and again his emotions were confused, because he didn't know whether to feel hurt by that, or glad of it. Living with her would probably be worse than living with uncle Vernon. Vernon and Petunia generally left him alone so long as he was getting his work done, but aunt Marge liked to watch you work and insult you and your parents to try to get a rise out of you so she could whack you with her cane.

"No, she didn't," Bentham admitted. He tried to catch Harry's eyes but Harry wasn't interested as he sat in the chair hugging his shoulders. He'd been doing that a lot lately. He would hug his arms further down but there were still sore bruises in the shape of uncle Vernon's fingers there, and too many bruises on his ribs to properly hug himself.

"Harry, do you want to spend the summer here?"

Harry looked up. "No, who would?" He felt snarky like Draco and couldn't shake it. He'd felt like that all week. He wasn't supposed to be here. He had a home at Hogwarts and with the Weasleys, but no one seemed to want him to be happy.

"There's a camp. It's a summer camp," he clarified. "It has a swimming pool and a lake, obstacle courses, horses... all kinds of fun things to do."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"It's for kids like you. Kids that have had... a less than stellar home life. It started last week. We already have three boys from this home that are there."

"Great," Harry muttered. A camp for abused kids, probably full of psychologists like Bentham who would be on his case every day to talk about his feelings and tell them what the Dursleys had done to him. Harry wasn't going and he wasn't going to talk to Bentham about it either. He hadn't so far and had no reason to now.

"I think I can get you in if you want to go. They don't usually let kids in late, but I could convince them to take a lad like you. There's only one problem..." he trailed away waiting for Harry to take the bait.

"And what's that?"

"I need to tell them something about you to get them to take you. Your cousin didn't have anything to say other than that he was well taken care of. He wouldn't tell me about you at all aside from to say that you go to a different boarding school than he does. They don't just let every person come to camp. You have to be under 13, which according to our records you will be for a short while longer, and you have to have-"

"Come from a less than stellar home situation, yeah, I get it," Harry snapped out as he looked away angrily. This was a trick to get him to talk, it had to be. No one would want to send him to a summer camp to have fun, it just wasn't possible.

"Anything at all Harry, you just have to tell me something."

"Just put down whatever is on the police report."

"I don't have access to that information other than that you were removed from your aunt and uncle's care."

"Then tell them this." Harry pointed at his face. He hated looking in the mirror at the bruises. His left eye hurt to close and his lip still looked pretty bad even though the swelling had finally gone down. There was a bruise on his right cheekbone too. At least they hadn't started turning funky colors yet, then they would really look awful.

"I need more than that. I need to know how it happened, or more about your life."

Harry laughed quietly. "Forget it," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He stood up and left the office, though he heard a sigh behind him. He walked down the hall with the intent of spending the rest of the day in the room he shared with five other boys, but he only got halfway there when the three older boys who had hit Dudley earlier that week rounded a corner and smiled to see him alone.

"Cousin finally gone eh?" one of them said with a nasty smile. "Good, now we can give you a proper welcome like we did him."

Harry wanted to back away and get to one of the common areas where there were other boys and possibly staff, but also wanted to not seem cowardly and to stand his ground. If he was going to be here by himself for the rest of the summer, he couldn't afford for them to think he was afraid. He stayed where he was and immediately regretted it as the larger one, Brad pushed him against the wall and punched him in the gut. Harry doubled over, feeling like all the air had left his lungs and waited for the next hit, but there wasn't one. They left and he assumed it was because someone else had suddenly turned a corner or come out of a room to come down the hall.

He dropped to the floor in the empty hallway, still holding his stomach. Maybe camp wasn't such a bad idea after all. Bentham said they had a lake... he could handle lounging on the banks of a lake and dodging counselor's questions if it meant getting away from this.

After several minutes Harry was finally able to get up off the floor. Uncle Vernon's hits hurt but he usually stayed away from Harry's stomach. Harry wasn't sure why but maybe the man thought he'd do internal damage and kill him if he hit him there and didn't want to have to take him to the hospital.

Slowly Harry walked back down the hallway to Bentham's office, where the door was still open and Bentham was at his desk writing something down. He looked up and watched as Harry slowly came and sat in the chair, though Harry didn't look up.

"I want to go to camp," Harry said quietly.

"You have to tell me something to give them... anything."

Harry was quiet.

"Lets start with your parents. Dudley said they were dead. How did that happen?"

"My aunt and uncle said it was a car crash when I was one but later I found out they were murdered." There, he didn't have to say it was by an evil wizard did he? Murdered parents ought to be enough to get him to camp.

"What were their names?"

Harry looked away. No, he couldn't give the man real facts or he'd check to see if Harry's story was true. Bentham didn't exactly have the Daily Prophet to look through to verify.

"Ok, so you went to your aunt and uncle when you were one. What was life like there?"

Harry looked up and pointed to his black eye again.

Bentham wrote something down and said, "Aside from that, what was life like?"

"I didn't have a bedroom. I lived in the cupboard under the stairs. I had a cot and a thin blanket and an old ripped pillow."

"What about Dudley?"

Harry scoffed. "Dudley told you the truth. He was fine. He had two bedrooms upstairs full of toys and videogames. He was well fed and pampered."

"What else?"

"Isn't that enough?"

"Give me one more thing to put down on the application Harry. I'm going to have to call in a personal favor as it is to get you into camp, but they've got to have information to even consider your case."

Harry sighed a short irritated sigh and looked at the ceiling. Why did these things always have to happen to him? Murdered parents, being pushed off on his aunt and uncle, Voldemort sticking out of the back of Quirril's head trying to murder him, basilisks and crazy house elves and ghosts of Tom Riddle, police at the door... Harry stood up quickly and made for the door. He didn't want to think about it all.

"Wait," Bentham said, and Harry stopped at the door frame. "I want you to be able to go to camp. When the others come back they're always glad they got to go and say they've had fun. I know what it's like here with the other boys. Please Harry, give me one more thing to put down on the form."

Harry didn't turn around. He didn't know what he was going to tell him. He hated that he had to tell him anything at all about living on Privet Drive. It was long quiet moments when he finally said, "I've never had a birthday," and then he did leave. He hoped that would be enough.