It's Better In the Dark by LucidDreamer10

Are you threatening me, sir?" he said, so loudly that passers-by actually turned to stare.

"Yes, I am," said Mad-Eye Moody, who seemed rather pleased that Uncle Vernon had grasped this fact so quickly.

With a scowl, Harry's uncle marched toward the exit, leaving his wife, son and nephew in his large wake. Mumbling something about the no good freaks.

Harry on the other hand haven't said a word since saying bye to Remus. Sirius had just died. The memories rushed back to him in a wave of nausea and guilt, threatening to leave him drowning in his own thoughts. Being pulled into the memories like a tide, Harry followed after his uncle subconsciously, not finding enough feeling inside him to care.

Why should I care?

Harry knew that this summer was going to be filled with unimaginable pain, how could it be filled with anything but? He had handed Sirius over to Voldemort, not thinking of his own actions, or the upcoming outcome that would hurt him so bad.

Because of me Sirius is dead.

And it was true, it hurt Harry to even feel. Numbness was better. If he started feeling, he would unfreeze, causing a long chain reaction, all leading to Sirius. Just thinking the name threatened to drown him. Sirius Black. His Godfather, Padfoot, the last person who actually cared...

Dead.

And it was his fault. His fault Sirius had died. His fault that he no longer had a godfather. His fault that he was fooled by Voldemort.

Sirius would still be alive if not for me...

"Well get in, Freak!" Aunt Petunia's shrill voice chided at him, piercing through his thoughts like a dagger in the side.

With a seconds hesitation, he plopped himself down on the seat, shut the door, and put his head against the window hoping that maybe this summer would go by faster.

Fat chance of that, Vernon and Dudders will still use me as a punching bag.

.

.

.oO-Oo.

Dudley Dursley

Dudley watched as the man with the strapped eye walk away from his father with his head held high as if he had won something. He hadn't . Dudley knew his father, Vernon Dursley would just treat Harry worse because of the weird freaks.

His father walked away, leading the way back out, and back onto the regular and human platform. Harry had called it the muggle platform when he was twelve. Soon, the freak station melted away and Vernon continued to March down the platforms, passing nine as he stomped down ferociously, as if just being in the same vicinity of freaks offended him on a personal level.

Dudley watched his cousin with interest, harry had gained a touch of muscle, maybe he could prove a good fighting buddy this summer. With all of his friends on vacation, he supposed he would get lonely. Besides, Harry had always had a temper of fire when pushed a bit, so it shouldn't be too hard.

Trying to prove his internal theory, Dudley stepped on the back of his cousins shoe, hoping he would fall. However, Harry didn't fall, not even when Dudley fanatically pounced on the heel of each foot after every step. He didn't even react. No cringing or tensing as if ready to jump into a war, nothing. Instead, Harry plowed on, following Vernon giant wake as they passed platform number seven.

Angered and annoyed, Dudley shoved Harry into his mothers back, praying that he would get yelled at, or even better, slapped. Instead Harry bumped into Petunia bonelessly, as if he no longer has control of his body. The horse faced woman turned to glare at Harry before stomping up to Vernon and whispering ferociously into his ear.

With an exceedingly angered sneer, Vernon turned around just to shoot a look of fury at his nephew, who didn't even look up. Harry continued to walk without any hesitation, almost like as if he didn't notice that he would be in trouble at home.

Dudley, decided that he could play his cousins game too, so he walked on, uncaring, and ignored the world as he followed his parents. They eventually made it to the car, where Dudley's mother began to screech at Harry to get in the car.

Without a care in the world, Harry slowly slid himself into the car and sat down before leaning against the window. Then Vernons rant started...

"Boy! You will not disrespect us! I do not care if your freaks are there, I will have you be obedient!" Vernon spat, raising his voice more as he spoke.

"They can't protect you anymore!" He continued on, gesturing to the fading train station through the window. "I will not have you sully our good name!"

"Do you understand freak?" He finished, raising both his hands off the steering wheel and glaring at Harry through the rearview mirror.

Dudley watched as Harry closed his eyes and seemed to put more of his weight against the window, as if he didn't hear Vernon.

"DO YOU GET IT FREAK!" Vernon shouted, waving one of his fists around.

Harry opened his eyes and blinked a few times before shaking his head lazily and leaning back into the door.

Vernon suddenly swerved the car off the road and pounded on the brakes, causing petunia to smacked into the dashboard, and Dudley to smash his knees into the seat. With a grunt of anger, Vernon turned to Harry and started screaming.

"WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU, YOU LISTEN! I AM THE ADULT, YOU ARE THE CHILD! YOUR FREAKLINGS CANT TOUCH ME! YOU WILL LISTEN! OR YOU WILL PAY THE CONSEQUENCES!" The almost purple faced man cried, then asked his question again. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?"

Dudley was shaking when Harry slowly removed his head from the window and glared icily at his uncle. Then he drawled out his answer with a puff of arrogance, "Of course Uncle Vernon. You know best."

Vernon raised his fist again and shook it in anger,"DO NOT GET SMART WITH ME! YOU WILL BE-"

He abruptly stopped talking and grabbed at his throat, as if choking. He gasped and pointed at Harry, then grabbed at his throat again.

Dudley didn't know how his dad thought that Harry could've done that. Sure, he had broken glass and made the lights flicker, but hurting somebody, hurting an adult? Harry wouldn't, he couldn't! He had never hurt anyone before. Dudley stole a glance at Harry and was shocked. . .

Harry was staring at his uncle with a look of pure terror, and his eyes were a dull green. Almost a dark grey! Dudley thought it was odd, but the most particular thing was the look he was sporting. Almost as if he had just murdered someone. Was he doing to kill Vernon? Nope, Vernon was breathing gruffly with bulging eyes. Dudley knew that look, his father was furious!

With a look of pure hate, Vernon began to speak roughly, "You will pay for that you idiot."

Harry flinched then looked to Petunia as if to prey for sanctuary. She just smirked. Knowing he wouldn't revive any mercy from her, Harry looked back down and fiddled with his hands, bending and twisting them in every which way and direction.

It was odd. At least in Dudley's mind. What happened to his the brash and reckless cousin he knew. Did something happen at the freak show school he went to? Then again he reminded himself, he didn't care either way. For all he cared, Harry could fall of a cliff and land in a pit of pointed rocks.

A teeny tiny part of Dudley tried to argue against that, but he pushed the thought away without hesitation. After all, who cared about freaks?

.

.

.oO-Oo.

Dudley Dursley

Ha! The freak got what he deserved!

That's what he told himself when he saw Harry washing his face in the bathroom the following night. Harry was sporting a black eye and bruised biceps.

Dudley was quite proud of himself for bruising Harry's arms, and the funny part was that the freak didn't even fight him! Now he finally realized that he deserved it! Dudley knew that his father was a fair, Harry probably knew that now too.

After all, he had mouthed off to the man who gave him a roof over his head and food to eat! Not to mention all the money he sacrificed on his behalf!

"What is it, big D?" Harry asked, staring questioningly at his cousin, as if awaiting a war.

"Mum wants dinner done in half an hour." Dudley updated him, smirking as Harry nodded then grabbed his head as of just the simple movement hurt him.

Seeing the smirk, Harry rolled his eyes and questioned, " What Dudders? You think this, " he gestured to his blackened eye, "is funny?"

"Yeah." He responded happily, secretly hoping that Harry would backtalk him so he could make a matching bruise for his other eye.

Harry marched off, making his way into the kitchen as Dudley waddled unsatisfied to his room.

.

.oO-Oo.

Harry Potter

Is there anyone that doesn't hate me and enjoy my pain? Harry though miserably, stalking into the kitchen with a throbbing eye and barley noticeable ache in his upper arms.

You could write Remus or someone in the order, he chided himself before pushing the thought down and telling himself that he really did deserve all of this. After all, he had killed Sirius.

Deciding to make a grilled chicken dish with cesar salad, Harry grabbed out the lettuce and began to chop off the bottoms and soggy tops.

Maybe I won't screw this meal up. A tiny ray of hope shone in his thoughts.

Yeah, and maybe I won't get hit again all summer! A giant shadow admonished the thought. And as weird as it was, the thought no longer scared him. Even better, he wouldn't be hurting anybody else.

He quickly finished plating the meal, and set it out at the table before scampering up the stairs to his room. Within literal seconds, he heard Dudley's heavy waddling steps headed for the dining room. Then Dudley's loud voice yelled that dinner was done.

Once Harry was sure that they were all eating, he reached into his pocket and grabbed out a strip of chicken for Hedwig.

Slowly, the evening passed and Harry fell into an uncomfortable sleep.

.

.oO-Oo.

Dudley wandered out of his room when he heard the shouting start. When he approached the kitchen, he soon saw what was making his father so angry. Leaning against a wall, Harry stood there casually and waved his hand at the plates (which were a horrid shade of purple, a Christmas gift from Aunt Marge) that sat neatly stacked on the floor.

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT USING YOUR FREAKINESS!" Vernon roared, his piggy eyes bulging with a purple face to accompany them.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, feigning innocence with wide green eyes.

"BOY! YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I MEAN!"

"Oh, that? If I remember correctly it's called magic." Harry yawned and ran a hand through his messy hair, showing only a mask of raw innocence to match his casual, own-the-place, stance. Sirius would've been proud, he always hated them after they took me away from him. Then again he isn't here to be proud, idiot. Wonder who's fault that is?

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT USING THAT WORD IN MY HOUSE!?"

"Magic?"

With an outraged growl, Vernon swung his fat fist at the teens face. A dull crack followed after the fist had collided with Harry's cheek. Victorious, Vernon gave a smile that caused Dudley to shiver vigorously for a moment before trying to collect himself. Harry however looked nonplussed and fiddled with his hands, cracking each of his knuckles carefully.

"DO NOT EVER USE IT IN MY HOME AGAIN!" Vernon yelled, grabbing Harry's shirt roughly and pulling him closer, waiting for confirmation.

"Of course, Uncle. Next time I shatter your dishes I will leave them so."

Dudley flinched when he heard the last part. Harry was in for it and from the confident look he was giving Vernon's fists, he knew it as well.

Looking nefarious, Vernon shoved Harry back into the wall with as much force as he could muster, then stomped out of the room like an angered elephant.

"Another good show, huh, Dudders?" Harry addressed his cousin, causing the baby whale to jump out of his hiding spot.

Dudley watched as Harry smirked at him with a faraway look in his eyes. Dudley had to admit that his father had gone a touch overboard, after all they all knew magic was real. It made Dudley wonder why he was is scared of it. After all, Harry himself was a twig and couldn't beat a fly without his magic, right?

He watched as his cousin lightly touched his swelling face and tensed from the light touch. For a split second, Dudley felt bad for his cousin. But then his other thoughts quickly clouded over the thought, besides Harry was just a waste of space. Everyone knew it!

He sneered at Harry before stomping back into his room and slamming the door, hoping his cousin wouldn't talk to him any more.

.

.oO-Oo.

Harry Potter

Holding his breath for fear of more pain, Harry spun around to face his cousin. Before Dudley had entered the room Vernon had punched him in the gut, most likely fracturing a rib or two.

Now though, Harry tried to seem nonchalant and was confused to see a spark of guilt in his cousin's eyes. Weird.

He watched as the baby whale waddled back to his room in some sort of mood. Not finding anything to care about, Harry wandered back into his room and sat on the windowsill. Before he knew it, night had fallen and the nightmares returned.

"Harry?"

Harry watched as a thin figure wandered out of the dark and into his line of sight.

"Sirius!" Harry grinned and ran to his godfather, hugging him around the middle and leaning into his bony chest.

With brute force that Harry had never encountered with Sirius, he was shoved away and growled at.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! YOU KILLED ME! IM DEAD!" Sirius roared, stalking towards Harry who landed sprawled out on the ground.

"But then again," Sirius started, his voice cold and laced with hatred, "you killed your own parents too."

Sirius pulled him up from the front of his shirt and sneered at his godson again. "Anything to say freak?"

"Siri... I n-never meant for you to d-die, I didn't mean t-to! V-Voldemort k-killed you, not me!" Harry's voice shook and his hands trembled violently, deeply hoping to show his godfather all the remorse he felt.

Sirius ran a hand over his face, looking exceedingly annoyed, "Stop blaming others. YOU KILLED ME! You! Not Voldemort! You!"

Tears tracked down Harry's face as he stumbled away from his godfather, but still looked into the man's eyes, "I didn't though. I love you Siri! I cared about you so muc-"

"WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO CARE ABOUT ANYTHING!" Sirius cut Harry off, exploding in rage, and getting in Harry's face to bare his teeth and let out a dog like growl.

"Please, Siri! I'd do anything! Just don't hate me anymore." Harry begged as if his life depended on it, trying to quell his hate filled godfather.

Sirius looked Harry in the eye for the first time that night and smiled serenely, taking a step back he shoved his hands in his pockets. "What gives you the right to even ask such a thing!?"

Harry just shrugged, ashamed and looked up at his godfather with big eyes, hoping the man might still care. "Please Siri..."

Sirius growled at the old nickname then grinned wickedly, "Try harder."

Harry looked up at the man and met his empty eyes, the man looked the same, but lost the caring look in his eyes that Harry loved seeing, "What do you mean?"

"Try harder. Maybe when you stop with this stupid, slytherin habit of blaming everything on others, ill forgive you. You are the only one to blame. Accept it."

Harry nodded, grateful for the second chance."Thank you Sirius..."

The bright light blinded Harry for a moment while his eyes adjusted and he stretched out his sore limbs. After climbing out of bed, Harry slid downstairs and started on breakfast, hoping that it wouldn't be burnt in any way, shape or form. Then he reminded himself that he didn't care one way or another.

"Morning Freak."

Harry turned around quickly and was surprised to sees his cousin up and about. Not to mention that he had just spoke civilly to him. If Harry could, he would've thought that maybe his cousin had started to care for him a bit after all. Sure, and maybe pigs can fly.

"Morning Big D." Harry returned carefully, turning back to the eggs he was scrambling and adding a light dusting of pepper.

After the eggs had cooled a bit, Harry slid the first batch in front of Dudley and was surprised when he heard the faintest mumble of thanks. Afterwards he prepared his Aunt and Uncle's plates before heading outside to start gardening.

"Potter? Aren't you going to eat?" Dudley questioned in a whisper, looking behind Harry and into the hallway to make sure his parents weren't eavesdropping.

Harry tensed, expecting a trap in till he saw the actual confusion in his eyes, sighing lightly, Harry turned to his cousin. Still, he kept his guard up. Why would Dudley suddenly be nice to him anyways?

"Dudders, you know I can't. Ill eat when your dad feeds me."

Dudley shook his head earnestly, wondering why he was bothering to help it, anyways. Nonetheless, he gave one last try, "Dad'll probably forget, come on, just take a piece." He held out a piece of egg, hoping Harry would eat it.

Harry shook his head and stifled a grin at his cousin's antics, "No thanks Dudley. I'm not hungry anyways."

.

.oO-Oo.

Harry Potter

Harry was sweating and had just finished weeding the garden when Vernon pulled into the drive, red with rage. Seeing the man glare at him and gesture to go inside, Harry quickly thought of all his actions that might've set Vernon off this bad. None came to mind.

The Front door shut harshly, but not yet a slam-that would attract to much attention.

"FREAK!" The man screamed, spitting a bit as he yelled.

Awe shit! Harry thought, smelling the stench of whisky on his breath, and seeing the man's wobbly frame.

"Yes?" Harry answered coolly, throwing up a quick mask, it didn't matter, nothing mattered now. He no longer cared. He couldn't.

"WHAT DID YOU DO!?"

Seeing the man clench his fist, he waited for the punch and frowned slightly when it didn't come. That was odd, why would the man hesitate to hurt him, he never did before, they were inside anyway, what was stopping him?

"I didn't do anything." He answered slowly, successfully giving the statement a slight drawl to make it sound better.

Gosh, I sound like Draco.

Or Snape.

Harry nearly choked at the thought and watched stiffly as his uncle raised his right fist. In the corner of his eye he saw Dudley hover in the doorway, sticking his head in the door way a bit. Great! This is bloody fantastic, now he gets to watch me get bruised and beaten. AGAIN!

"YOU WILL PAY!"

Then the fist striked down, meeting Harry's temple as he heard Dudley shriek. And then he saw the first problem. He probably deserved this-after all he was just a murderer. He had been selfish.

I don't care! I said I wouldn't care! I dont!

Another punch landed on Harry's stomach, knocking the air out of him and he stumbled to the ground, then started to scratch the hardwood floors for balance.

"YOU GOT ME FUCKING FIRED!" Vernon roared, kicking Harry back down as he tried to get up.

"Uncle Vernon-" Harry started to say before getting cut off.

"YOU WILL FUCKING PAY YOU FREAK!" The drunk, red faced whale of a man barked, causing his voice to echo and boom around the house.

Petunia then walked into the room, attempting to look graceful, but looking more like a drunk giraffe who didn't know what to do with its legs. "Vernon," she whispered hastily, "quiet down, the neighbors will hear!"

"NEIGHBORS!" He yelled gruffly, "WERE MOVING ANYWAYS! FREAKLING HERE GOT ME FIRED!"

Petunia stood dumbstruck for a moment before sneering at Harry. "My parents left me a house we can have." She suggested softly, as if trying to quell a wildabeast.

"HEAR THAT BOY?!" Vernon roared, the whiskey stench more prominent, then took a breath only to kick Harry, "WERE LEAVING TOMORROW!"

Harry whimpered and tried to crawl up to a standing position, but within a few moments, he was kicked back down with brute force, and clutched at his forming bruises and most likely broken ribs. With a kick aimed at his head, Harry soon lost consciousness.

...

Dudley watched all this from in the corner, trembling and scared for Harry's life. He had passed out, and yet his father insisted on kicking him around more. What would happen if he killed him? Would the freaks kill his father? That thought truly scared Dudley, his father shouldn't be held responsible, he's drunk. Thinking quickly, (or as quickly as he could) He made a plan. He jumped out of the hiding spot and walked slowly towards his father.

"Hey dad!" He called, wincing as he stepped on Harry's left hand, "Look what I found!"

Petunia looked at her son with wide eyes and furiously shook her head. Her duddikins couldn't be hurt! He shouldn't even see his father like this!

Oblivious to his wife, Vernon turned his head slightly and looked at his son then smiled like an animal stalking its prey.

Dudley led his dad to his room and laid him in his bed, giving him a glass or water and leaving it on the beside table. Within seconds he was snoring away.

...

Harry woke to a shoe being thrown at him. And surprisingly he was on an actual bed. Dudley's bed.

"Boy, get up and help me pack! Vernon will be up soon!" His aunt shrilly spat, tossing another shoe at him.

Harry was amazed to see the room empty besides a half dozen boxes in the corner, all labeled DUDLEY. Wow, so she really was serious, we're moving!

Ignoring the sharp pain whenever he moved, or breathed, Harry began to quickly pack up the rest of the things in the house, surprised once again to see moving guys out front. Within a few hours, they were done.

By 11:05 AM Vernon was awake with a hangover and the house was completely packed up.

And so they left.

.oO-Oo.

About five hours (and two rest stops later) the family and Harry had arrived. The house was two stories and was plain yet cozy. It had three bedrooms, three baths, and was apparently much to small for the Dursleys. In Harry's opinion the house was better than the Privet Drive (not to mention it had no cupboard).

When harry walked into the house he were greeted with tall ceilings and crisp gray walls. There were various pictures on the wall, showing Petunia and her family.

MOM! Harry yelled mentally, looking hungrily at the beautiful red haired woman in the majority of the photos with petunia and her parents.

He was quickly ushered throughout the rest of the house by his Aunt. The kitchen and living room connected to the dining room and they were soon directed down a hallway. The biggest room was claimed by Dudley, and had plenty of room for anything he come ever want to stuff in there.

The second largest bed room was claimed by the adult Dursleys, both of them claiming it would do for now.

When they saw the last room, which was about three times the size of Harry's old room, Dudley quickly claimed it as his man cave and a "freak free zone."

Lastly, petunia showed them the last space, which would be Harry's room. The attic. It was about as big as the master bedroom, but it was very cluttered on the left side, leaving only half the room open. Harry however saw it as perfect. He could no doubt go through all the stuff and move it around. Not to mention the fact that he could learn more about his mother and her family- or rather parents.

The moment was quickly ruined as Vernon grabbed Harry by the arm, giving him a new layer of bruises, and shoved him towards the door.

"FREAK! Go fetch the boxes!" Vernon Dursley barked, watching as the boy turned sadly to the door and limped outside. Petunia had told him that they could treat him normally here, as they only had one neighbor, the rest of the street was deserted. There present plan was to befriend there neighbor and make sure the freak stayed in his place.

Harry walked outside, trying to steady his breathing and not jostle his ribs to much. Directly across the street was the only occupied house on the street, it had a dark grey trim and an off white base coat of paint covering the house. The word, Crisp came to mind when you saw the house.

Harry hobbled outside slowly and reached for the lightest boxes first. Slowly but surely the house became filled with boxes, and by 6:29 PM all the boxes were inside the appropriate rooms.

.

.oO-Oo.

Severus Snape POV

Severus Snape was mad.

No, scratch that he was pissed. He was irate. He was incomprehensibly, unabashedly enraged.

Severus watched as the moving van stopped across the street and a small car followed it into the Evans driveway. He was a man of solitude, and enjoyed being alone. Hence the reason he lived in his childhood home.

That was also why when he saw who got out of the car, he ended up exploding his potion. Petunia Dursley and her whale of a husband and son followed her into the house. And trailing behind them was the-brat-who-Lived. That's right, the one and only.

Harry Potter.

He, Severus Snape, now had the horrid , insufferable brat, Harry Potter, as a neighbor. How could the summer get any worse, and to think, they weren't even a month into the summer holidays.

He watched as harry and his relatives entered the house for a few moments until the thin frame of potter stumbled outside and went to the moving van and grabbed out box after box. It struck Severus as a bit odd, only potter was helping move the boxes, not Tuney or the whales bothered to remove themselves from the house. Impeccable lazy idiots, the lot of them.

Soon though, the potions master got bored of staring out his window and decided to clean up his potions mess. With a flick of his wrist, the previous mess was banished. The man later went into his room, ordering food (with his house elf, Charles) and ate in silence, afterwards he retired to bed to sleep peacefully.

.oO-Oo.

Harry's Potter

"BOY!" Vernon yelled, thundering up the stairs to Harry's new room. The last step creaked just as Harry hif his the pictures of his mother and grandparents. His relatives really were clueless if they thought he would hate it up here, he had unlimited time (besides when doing chores) to scrounge up pictures and memories of his family he never got the chance to meet.

Within seconds the door slammed open and Harry cringed, never a good sign.

"Get down here! I want lunch!" The man growled, sounding as frightening as a cuddly teddy bear.

No matter how unfrightening the demand, Harry still knew the man meant business, he had gained several more bruises when he took these orders and ignored them. So there he soon was, preparing a thick tomato soup and grilled cheese.

About halfway through making the meal, Dudley walked inside the house and gave his mother, who was eyeing Harry like a hawk, a quick peck on the cheek before turning to Harry.

"Hey Potter, that doesn't smell half bad, what is it?"

Harry was on guard again. Why was Dudley bring nice, then going back to his old ways day after day. Maybe it's a trick? Either way, he tensed and answered him.

"Tomato soup and grilled cheese, it'll be done in five." Harry answered slowly, watching his Aunt out of the corner of his eye, measuring her response. Surprisingly, she didn't look mad or even confused, she looked more resigned, as if she knew her son was fighting a battle and winning for the wrong side, but was still, nonetheless, proud of his accomplishments.

Harry was almost pleased, it was one of the only times his cousin had been openly nice to him. But then again, he didn't want to get used to it either, every one knew that Dudley Dursley was a carbon copy of Vernon Dursley. And sooner or later he'd wake up, and go back to hating Harry with a passion.

Dudley grabbed the plates off the counter top and began setting the table, another rare thing to see, just as Vernon walked in the dining room and Petunia exited.

"Why are you doing Freaklings job, son?" He looked between Harry and his son in what seemed to be anger clouded over with confusion.

Dudley shrugged and put the spoons down, "Looked like he needed the help, and I was capable."

This statement alone shocked Harry. First of all, he had been openly nice, for the second time within an hour's time, to Harry. Secondly, he sounded mature in the way he worded his sentence, using words to make a bolder statement seem true and important. "..And I was capable."

His father however, didn't seem so thrilled. "What do you mean, he needed help?" Vernon growled and glared at Harry as if it were his fault, which apparently it was. "When has he ever needed help?"

Dudley shrugged his shoulders again as Harry began pouring soup into separate bowls at the counter before carrying them over to the table.

"He just.. I dunno.. He looked kinda tired."

Proof! All of a sudden all Dudley's maturity and confidence had disappeared, and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world. And he had pity for Harry... something that was equivalent to killing Aunt Marge in Vernons book-not that Harry thought that would be an absolute crime, maybe more of a misdemeanor or a warning-with-fine kind of deal.

"He looks fine, a bit to lumpy to be honest with you!" Petunia entered the room yet again with her nose in the air, and a pristine smirk on her face.

"Well then, looks like we'll hold off his meal for another week then." Vernon answered, smiling viciously.

In all honesty, Harry was anything but fine and lumpy. Not only was he bone thin and looked like an anorexic, he was bruised, head to toe, and he had various cuts and scabs popping up ontop of bruises. The most noticeable injuries were on his face. On the left side of his face he had a purple-green bruise covering his eye, nose and a split lip. Not only that, his biceps had been squeezed to insanity! It was the only "lumpy" part of him, and only because if the major swelling.

So when Vernon said the meal he had been waiting for was being put off, he wanted to scream and curse him to the moon and back. However, with his head held high, he stalked out of the kitchen and up into his room. He wouldn't show the man he had won, that would be dangerous as well as stupid and foolish. Why surrender your pride when it's the only thing you have left?

As soon as he closed his door behind him he made a beeline to the bed and was out like a light. After all, Dudley was right on one thing, he was tired.

Two thin forms walked out of the dense fog and stepped forward, confronting Harry.

"Harry, what's happened to you." A soft, wavering voice asked, looking him in the eye. She had long red hair and green eyes-his mother. Beside her stood his father, messy hair and square framed glasses.

"Mum?" Harry whispered, scared she would disappear if he were to talk to loud, or move to close.

"Why son?" James asked, eyes narrowing at his son, however, a ghost of his signature smirk remained.

"Why what?" Harry asked, voice breaking slightly as he looked over his parents hungrily, he wanted to grab them in a hug and for them to whisper that it would be alright. Now it seemed though, they had only come to talk. After all, freaks don't need love and attention, just a good beating every day or so.

"Why did you kill us? We have up everything for you. Lily had to quit her job at St. Mungos and I had sacrifice our time together. What do you give us in return?" He paused for a moment and let that sink in, glaring at Harry, but keeping his tone soft and cold, "Death."

Harry looked up at his mum, praying for mercy and kindness. Instead she just tilted her head slightly and gave a tiny frown. "Your father's right Harry, there are so many you've killed! And you continue to blame it on Tom Riddle."

"But, I didn't kill you... I would never kill either of you, I lov-"

Harry suddenly went flying through the air and landed on his shoulder painfully as heavy footsteps announced another persons arrival. Blearily, Harry looked up and his heart clenched and tears went to his eyes. Sirius.

"HOW DARE YOU SAY THAY! YOU KILLED US! ALL OF US!" Sirius barked, baring his teeth at his godson who now had silent sobs taking him and tears sliding down his face.

"YOU ASK FOR FORGIVENESS, THEN DO THIS! WHAT HAVE I BEEN TELLING YOU!?"

Harry looked up at Sirius' shaking form, fear pooling in his stomach as tears continued to trail down his face. "But, Siri, I do love all of y-"

"IF YOU LOVED US WE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!" He raged, his eyes were darker than Harry had ever seen them and he had to hold back a flinch. This is Sirius, he reminded himself, he would never hurt me. Right?

"Sirius please.." Harry begged, not meeting his godfathers eyes for fear of seeing hate and rage.

He got no answer.

"Mum, Dad?..." Harry began, praying they wouldn't ignore him, he couldn't make himself look at them either.

And so once again he got no answer.

Finally, he looked up. Sirius was gone. His parents were gone. He was alone. Completely and utterly alone. And even worse... The fog remained, but bright florescent lights buzzed on above him. Almost like a muggle schools light in a locker room or restroom. Slowly the fog cleared, and still nothing. And this scared Harry more than anything else.

After all... The dark isn't scary, the light is. It shows you everything. In the dark you can also least pretend it isn't there, it isn't happening. Out of sight, out of mind. But in the light... In the light you can't pretend you can't see what's there, what's happening. You can't hide inside yourself when everything to be seen is visible, it's impossible...

"I love you." Harry whispered, barley moving his lips, almost not making a sound. Is this what's always going to happen? He thought brokenly, Will every one I love die?

So from then on, Harry made a promise to make sure nobody else would die because of him, no matter what.

Harry woke up that morning with tear tracks staining his face.

.oO-Oo.

Dudley Dursley

Dudley Dursley awoke early that morning ready for a good breakfast. When he made it downstairs to the kitchen, he hovered on the doorway for a moment. Harry stood at the stove, making pancakes and bacon, he still had dozens of bruises littering his small frame and his hair was ruffled up, making it look even more hectic, something he knew his mother hated.

It was weird, at least in Dudley's mind, how much their relationship had changed. For the past 15 years, give or take, he had been nothing but a bully to his cousin. Dudley never knew it was wrong, and that kinda scared him. He had actively abused his cousin and made his life a living hell. He, his father and mother were demons, ordering him around, using him as a punching bag to aim their anger at, and starving him. It showed. And that scared him a lot, what would happen to his parents and him if Harry were to die for some reason, sure he always seemed so strong, but he was only human.

He and his family had created a bone thin, insecure, silent and tensed boy, although he was now a teenager. To say the least, he was disgusted with himself, and even more so with his parents. For the 15 years he had lived with them, he had suffered abuse, no love, no care, no attention. It was honestly a huge surprise that Harry didn't have major problems. And his parents were even worse, they were suppose to set the example, instead they showed Dudley how to hurt someone so bad, it was irreversible.

"Get in the dining room, Big D, your parents are coming downstairs." Harry said, barley above a whisper. His eyes flickered toward the stairs as he gave Dudley a little push, just enough for him to start moving his feet.

Dudley nodded and sat down at his usual spot, the very corner where he could sneak looks at the telly when his mum wasn't watching. Sure enough, his parents came walking into the dining room and took their spots at the four person table (the reserved seat for Marge was empty) and Harry came in with a plate of pancakes, bacon, and orange juice. They served themselves in silence, and began eating.

"Freak!" Vernon called, breaking the silence and taking a swing of Orange juice.

Harry obediently rushed into the room, holding himself in a very tense slouch, he seemed shocked when Vernon began to speak politely.

"We have decided," he began, gesturing to Petunia and himself, "that we would like the neighbor over for dinner tonight." He crunched on his bacon and stared at Harry, awaiting an answer.

Dudley watched his cousin quickly go from confused to resigned. "Would you like me to invite him over?" He even sounded resigned, Dudley didn't blame him, nobody had even seen the man, he never once ventured outside the doors of his house.

"Make sure they come." His voice sounded halfway pleasant, but it had a stiff air to it-showing the underlying threat of what were to happen if it didn't happen.

Harry nodded and went to clear Dudley's plate when he gestured to it. Dudley had purposely left a small portion of bacon and non-syruped pancake on the edge of his plate for his cousin to eat. He prayed that Harry would eat. After all, he was only human.

.oO-Oo.

Harry Potter

After the dishes were scrubbed clean, Harry dressed in his cleanest hand-me-downs, a pair of patched blue jeans and a solid black, crew neck t-shirt. He then locked his door and took a deep breath, applying a wordless glamour to cover his bruises.

Slowly, he made his way to front door, and across the street and eventually to the neighbors door. He knocked hesitantly, tensing when three of his bruised knuckles met face with the door. There was no answer for a matter of thirty seconds, then however, a faint rustle and light footfalls came closer. The door opened with a long and loud creek, and then Harry's worst nightmare came true.

He came face-to-face with the Hogwarts Potions master. Severus Snape.

"What Potter?" The man sneered, glaring daggers at Harry.

"My Aunt and Uncle would like you over for dinner, sir, if you'd like to attend." Harry kept his voice level and polite, something he had seen Draco Malfoy do with other adults when he wanted something, but he kept any sign of arrogance hidden.

"No, I would not."

The door began to shut just as Harry put his foot in the way. "Please sir!"

Severus sneered and kicked the boys foot away, missing when Harry's eyes watered and he slammed his door to leave Harry to begin hyperventilating.

Oh Shit, Oh Shit, Oh Shit, Oh Shit, Oh Shit...

Harry dragged his feet back to his house and opened the door silently, letting his glamour fall and stepping into the living room.

"What time is he coming over?" Petunia asked, narrowing her eyes at her nephew.

"H-He can't make it tonight, Aunt Petunia." Harry began to tremble as Vernon walked in.

"BOY! We gave you one single job! Get your scrawny ass," he took a small breath and kicked Harry in the butt, causing him to fall forward, "back over there and have him be over by five!" Vernon raged, punching Harry square in the chest as he began to get back up. Harry nodded and headed towards the door.

Once he shut the door behind him, Harry took a deep breath and reapplied his glamour, wishing it would take the pain away too. He slowly made his way up to the doorstep of Severus Snape, and gave it a single, loud knock.

.oO-Oo.

Severus Snape

A single, loud knock disturbed Severus' silence as he slowly got up and made his way to the front door.

"Potter?" The potions master answered, sounding resigned and yet somehow kept a vicious sneer on his face.

"Sir, please come over for dinner with my Relitives, that really want you to come over!"

Snape noticed that the boys breathing was erratic and shallow, as if he couldn't quite catch his breath. He also stood tense, ready to bolt and duck with the slightest movement.

"You have already received my answer." Snape replied, covering his frown with a sneer, why did the boy need him to come over so badly? Just as he began to grab the door, something sparked in his gut, weighing it down.

He looked over the boy again with a critical eye, something was up.

"Please sir!" Harry begged once more, his eyes searched the black frantically as he grabbed a hold of his stomach, as if in pain.

There! He saw it! He knew he did! On the left side of Harry's face he saw a slight shimmer! The tell tale sign of glamour!But why would Harry Potter be wearing a glamour? And in the summer? When he was banned from using magic! He slowly considered his options, and decided quickly of his plan.

"Potter, would you come inside for a moment?" He asked, keeping his face blank and changing his sneer into a slight glare with a matching frown.

He watched as Potter studied him for a moment, his face drawn in fear, and he stepped aside and gestured into his living room. Harry hesitated for another moment before looking back at the Evans house and cringing, slowly, he stalked into Snapes house in a very tense stance and his back to the wall, right beside the door.

"I'm not going to harm you Potter." Severus drawled while he watched Harry tense and step back towards the door, years of training coming back into action. Harry tensed again at the voice and flinched slightly as the door shut. What is wrong with Potter?

Silently, Severus walked to his couch and took a seat, hoping for the boy to realize he didn't have any reason to fear (though that was hard to believe when he had a permanent sneer and glare resident on his face). "Come and explain to me Potter, why your relatives insist on having me over."

"Yes sir." Harry said quietly, and paced to the couch and sat down carefully and slowly, wincing as his back touched the couch.

With speed uncommon for any human, Severus grabbed his wand and shouted "FINATE!" at Harry.

Slowly, his fair skin gained a blue-ish hue and bruises covered Harry's frame along with various cuts and bruises. The most noticeable injuries were the side of his left face, which was still swollen and bruised, then the dark-blue-almost-purple hand marks on his upper arms. His forearms had various scrapes and what looked like a 2nd degree burn littering his hands and finger tips.

"POTTER! Explain!" Severus snapped, feeling all calmness leave him and turn directly into anger. "POTTER?!" He snapped again, watching as the boy jumped up and ran for the door, trying to leave but was oblivious to the locked door.

"BOY?! Explain yourself!" At that order the boy froze and all remaining color drained from his face. He slowly turned around with watering eyes, and whispered in a chilling voice, freezing Severus to the core.

"Dinners at five, don't be late."

And with that, the locks popped open and Harry threw the door open, sprinted across the street and slammed his front door behind him, leaving soon thoroughly confused Potions Master behind him.

What the fuck was that?

.

.oO-Oo.

Harry Potter

The door bell rang just as Harry had finished setting the table. Slowly, he dragged his feet too the front door and peered through the peep hole. Yup, just on time was Snape, standing stiffly at the doorway and glaringly the peep hole.

"Good evening sir." Harry said promptly he opened the door and gestured for Snape to come in.

"Evening Mr. Potter." Snape answered.

Harry leaned over to shut the door but was grabbed by his professor before he could finish the task. "Explain!" Snape hissed in his ear then let go of Harry's bruised arm and stood up quickly when he heard footsteps making their way over to them.

"Hello sir, I'm Dudley Dursley. I welcome you to our humble home and invite you to the dining room for dinner." Dudley appeared in the doorway and recited his little speech with a pristine little smile. He then turned on his heel and made his way to the dining room, Harry and Severus following him.

As they walked, Snape have Harry a look that clearly said that they'd discuss things later. Harry sighed and returned to the kitchen after telling his Aunt that their guest was in the dining room.

Vernon stormed into the kitchen and slapped Harry's arm, "Good of you to finally do one thing right." He hissed in Harry's ear and then waddled into the dining room.

"Hello good sir!" Vernon said, stepping into the room, "I hope the fre-, boy didn't bother you to much."

"Not at all." Severus drawled as he shook the man's hand.

Harry listened from in the kitchen with a slight scowl on his face. What n he seemed the Pot Pies cool enough, he brought them out and set them at their respective places. There were four pot pies, two regular sized and two a bit larger to fit the males in the Dursley household. Just as Harry was returning to the kitchen to finish dishes Snape addressed him.

"Why aren't you going to eat, Mr. Potter?" His tone was smooth and feigning innocence.

Before Harry could answer Vernon spoke up. "He ate earlier. Besides, he doesn't like chicken pot pies-"at this Vernon met his glare and have him a smirk in return, "-I can't imagine why, with all this warm chicken and creamy broth, it's simply delicious."

Harry's stomach ache increased drastically and he held down the urge to throw up. (Not that he really had anything to throw up). He then disappeared back into the kitchen shaking. It wasn't even the words that made him so hungry, it was the smell. The light scent of the Pot Pies hung in the air while Harry stared hungrily at the pan.

Harry knew he wouldn't get away with stealing the remaining filling, but he needed to eat something! He got maybe five small bites of food a week, usually from when Dudley left food on his plate, and that was only when no one else was in the kitchen. He couldn't even sneak food anymore, the Dursleys had put in a camera system throughout the kitchen and dining room a week after moving in.

He looked up at the cameras that seemed to be mocking him and reached over and swiped his finger into the filling. He quickly sucked the warm piece of heaven off his finger and then flipped the camera off. This was a once in a life time situation, the Dursleys wouldn't barge in and he had all this food to himself.

Quickly, he began to grab little zip lock bags and stuff them full of extra food. When he deemed himself fit, he shoved them into the pockets of his pants, (they were hand-me-down cargo pants from Dudley.)

"...What does your nephew do during the day? I haven't seen him about." Harry heard Snape ask and rushed towards the doorway, a perfect opportunity to hear conversation.

Harry heard Vernon take a grumbling breath and then say, "The boy has some disciplinary issues, so he is safer inside, and he seems to be a homebody anyways."

Homebody my ass.

"Really?" Severus questioned, "What's the worse thing he has ever done?" Harry could almost see the gleam in the man's eye, he was quickly gaining more information to use against him.

"Once the boy tried to murder Vernons sister!" Petunias shrill voice added, "He's a freak!"

"Yup, dear old Marge, the boy came in with a steak knife and started waving it around, claiming that if he didn't get to go to some friends house that he would kill us all, then he marched up to Marge and started to swing the knife around." Vernon continued the story.

What the fuck? Where on earth did they find the brains to make that up?

"Hmmmm.." Snape said, pretending to think about it all, then his voice somehow managed to get a touch higher and said in a fake whisper, "He sounds like he has some daddy problems."

Fuck you too Snape!

"Why of course, with parents that were such freaks. His parents were criminals too, died when they got in a car crash, drunk of course!" Harry could of sworn that he felt a wave of anger from Snapes direction, but it was gone before he could say magic.

At this point Dudley left the room and went into his room, blasting some action movie.

"Why'd you take him in?" Harry heard actual wondering in his voice and listened intently for the answer.

"A man by the name of Albus Dumbledore. He left freakling on our porch step with a mere note, and if we left him he would have died, and that would've looked very strange. We tried taking him to an orphanage, but no one would take him, they all said he had the devils scar! If we abandoned him he would've told people and our reputation would be ruined. We had no choice in the matter!" Petunias shrill voice squealed, sounding all high and mighty.

Awe, shut up.

"Do you still wish to abandon him?" Snape asked, Harry could nearly see the gleam in his eye.

"Everyday."

The word was said without a drop of remorse and no hesitation. Strait and true. Harry knew that it shouldn't of surprised him, they hated him and so he hated them in turn, but that one honest statement actually hurt him a bit. Harry quickly took in a new breath of air and counted to 14 before the sharp pain started to recede; it almost felt like being strangled, his throat closed up and his mouth and mind refused to work. But eventually it left and Harry could only resume listening quietly as the roaring in his ears died out.

"-I would be open to such a negation." Snapes baritone voice replied smoothly.

What did I miss?

"Would next week work?" Vernon questioned, Harry assumed he was rubbing a hand over his fat face.

"How long would this expedition last?" Snape asked.

Expedition?

"Just a week." Petunia voiced.

A week? What are they talking about?

"Sounds appropriate."

"So you wouldn't mind?" Petunia asked hesitantly, as if scared he would change his mind.

"Not at all, maybe I can produce some manners in the boy?" Snape said in an almost silky tone.

Condescending bastard.

Vernon broke into a howling laugh and banged a giant fist on the table, apparently in amusement. "Good luck!"

Fuck off, Uncle Vernon, Fuck off.

"So, I'll tell the boys tomorrow morning then?" Petunia offered.

"Have them over by ten." Snape answered and stood up, "I'm afraid I must be leaving, I have a friends dog over and I have to call one of my coworkers. "

By this point the man had already pushed in his chair and was making his way to the door. Harry scampered off the ground and back into the kitchen to resume his duties as house maid.

Once the door shut Harry headed up to his room to empty out his pants pockets. He had a full three bags of food! One of pot pie filling, another of roasted peanuts (one of Dudley's favorite diet snacks), and lastly a bag of pretzels! He quickly hid them all in his dresser, wadded up inside his socks.

.

After he was done storing his food, he looked out his window for a bit and stared up at the stars. There was Sirius' constellation, bright and shining, directly infront of his window. No matter where he looked he still saw it shining bright. And it hurt.

During the day, he could keep himself in the dark, tell himself that nothing was wrong, he could distract himself with chores or anger. But during the night he was blinded by the truth. He had no distractions. He couldn't convince himself that nothing was wrong anymore. Everything was lit up, buzzing and flickering, fighting for his attention. Fighting for his guilt.

The worst part was that it worked. In his dreams he was haunted by all those he killed, and when he was awake and aware it was worse. At least in a dream the light dims a bit, the physical pain goes away and his mind was steady and stayed on topic.

But in the night he was awake and aware of everything. The way the pain built up and threatened to topple over. The way the guilt was rising rapidly and would soon drown him. And most of all, the way everything seemed to be pushing down on him, blinding him with the brightness of it all, and yet crashing around him in giant waves, he was aware of the fact that one day he would crack. And fail.

And Harry knew exactly what that meant. When he failed everything would crash down around him. He would kill more and more. And the guilt would eventually gain residence in his lungs, and he would drown. And continue to kill. None of it would stop, ever, because he just couldn't seem to die.

His dreams eventually took over awareness and the light dimmed a bit, and the guilt continued to rise steadily over the night.

.oO-Oo.

Dudley Dursley

Dudley had just finished his movie by eleven and was hungry. He padded heavily down the stairs and through the hallway leading to the kitchen. He grabbed a bag of pretzels from the shelf and a water from the fridge before making his way back to his room. Just when his foot was about to hit the first step he had an idea.

He hobbled back into the kitchen and grabbed three water bottles and two bags of pretzels and a half dozen painkillers. He slowly made his way up to Harrys room and opened the door a just enough to look in.

Harry was lying in his bed, blankets thrown to the ground and a look of pure fear on his face. He was tucked into a fetal position with his hands and arms shielding his head. Harry whimpered and turned over, grabbing the air and murmuring an unidentifiable mantra. He sucked in a sharp breath and tensed with his hands in fists.

Dudley entered the room and closed the door silently, he took another small step toward his cousin and whispered his name. "Harry?"

Harry bolted upright and lunged towards Dudley, knocking him over and pinning him to the ground. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were glazed and watery.

"Harry?" Dudley asked again, trying to keep his cool and figure out why his cousin was acting so oddly. "It's me, Dudley, I brought you something. "

Harry loosened his grip a bit and looked Dudley in the eye, "What did you and your little gang do to me everyday after school? What'd you call it?" He asked and Dudley was surprised and confused to see the guilt and hate reflected in his cousin's eyes, along with a hint of confusion.

Dudley took a shaky breath and swallowed once, "We used to go H-Harry Hunting-" his voice broke for a moment and he struggled to regain his composure, "Harry, I'm sor-"

"Water under the bridge." Harry cut him off stood up and started to pace.

"Potter, What's up?" Dudley asked, watching his cousin pace and run a hand through his hair without stop. Harry paused his pacing and turned to Dudley.

"What are you doing in here anyway?"

"I brought you some stuff." Dudley answered and grabbed the pretzels, waters, and painkillers. He set them down on harrys dresser and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Oh, thanks Big D." Harry said and started to pace again.

"Seriously. What's up?"

Harry seemed to consider the question for a moment and looked at his cousin, Dudley shot him what he hoped was an encouraging look and Harry smirked.

"Potter? Just spit it out, your driving me crazy with all that pacing!" Dudley whined.

Harry continued to pace in till Dudley gave him his last attempt. "Harry, please, stop that stupid pacing! Your making a rut in the floor! Ya see?" He asked, flailing his arms towards the floor at the last part.

Harry looked up and his eyes blazed for a moment before he walked up to Dudley and bent down. He was eerily calm and quiet. Dudley suddenly wondered if he had gone to far.

"Voldy himself is on a murder spree and is desperate to kill me. I hear his thoughts and feel his flashes of happiness when he tortures and kills. I also have my dead godfather haunting my dreams every single night, asking me why I killed him." Harry took a deep breath and then cleared his throat,

"Not only is it my godfather, but my parents, and every one else I have killed. Every single night they come and beat me, screaming questions of why I killed them, and if I ever loved them. And when it's not them it's Voldemort. I honestly haven't had a good night's sleep since the night after the third task - that was my third killing, Cedric. And to think... That night I slept and my godfather slept with me in Animagus form, I had no nightmares."

Harry cleared his throat again and started to pace again. "Ignore all of what I just said, yeah?" He asked and put his hand to his forehead and winced at the touch.

"Fuck you too Voldy." Harry said in a hallow voice and slowly took his shaking hand away from his scar, leaving a small trace of blood on his hand.

He changed his pacing course to the dresser and pulled out a black sock and stuck it go his forehead.

Finally, Dudley found his voice and address his cousin, "P-Harry... Harry. I'm sorry about your godfather."

Harry gave a sharp nod and turned away to continue his rhythmic pacing. He stopped at the window and Dudley heard him take in a deep, shaking breath. His back stiffened and his muscles tensed for a moment before a strangled sob broke the silence. His shoulders shook and his head was bowed.

Dudley stood up and began to walk over to his cousin, and when he was within arms reach he put a hand on his shoulder.

Harry stiffened again and sniffed, for about a solid minute he just a good there in moving, taking deep breaths. Slowly, he regained his compose and stood tall again before turning to Dudley with shining and watery eyes. "Thanks Big D..."

Dudley nodded and let his hand fall off Harry's shoulder. "Anytime, Harry... Anytime."

Harry walked over to his dresser and placed the slightly bloody sock back in the drawer and put the pretzels and water into socks. He took the painkillers and put them in the back of a picture frame holding a photo, a moving photo, of a young girl with fiery red hair smiling and bouncing a bit. Her eyes were a touch brighter than Harry's and she looked completely carefree.

"Is that your mum?" Dudley asked.

Harry looked at the picture again and smiled softly, "Yeah, it is. She was eleven in that picture."

Dudley nodded and gazed at the needy look on Harry's face and felt guilt wash over him. Harry had no parents, and no one who cared any more, all he had left was him and his family. And they weren't anything to be proud of.

Dudley looked back at the picture and smiled at the girl who was his Aunt, "Shes beautiful. What was her name?"

Harry looked as if a second wave of nostalgia hit him and he smiled slightly at Dudley's interest.

"Lily Potter, nee Evans."

Dudley smiled back at his cousin and whispered in a slightly hollow voice, "Aunt Lily.. It even sounds beautiful. I wish I could've known her."

And what surprised Dudley was that he actually meant it. He want just saying it to be nice. His mum had never talked of her sister, and when she did a whole lot of the word ' freak' was thrown around.

"Me too." Harry whispered back, voice raw of emotion.

.oO-Oo.

Harry woke up the next morning when his Aunt shrill voice attacked his wars. "Freak! Breakfast needs to be done in ten!"

Harry counted to thirty than got dressed quickly and headed downstairs. He had eight minuted to make a breakfast now. He quickly decided on microwavable food and threw in breakfast burritos. He prepared the plates and placed them at the table before making a single slice of toast for himself.

He was halfway through his toast when Vernon stormed in the kitchen, his plate held high and stopped directly in front of Harry.

Then he saw it. And slapped Harry across the face. Hard.

"What is that?" Vernon questioned, gesturing to the toast Harry had stopped eating.

"My breakfast, I have to eat sometime." Harry answered back in a small voice, still holding his cheek.

"Did I say you could eat?" Vernon asked, his eyes closed while he rubbed his temples.

"No Uncle Vernon, I'm sorry, but I have to e-"

"No! You want to eat! You are a selfish, arrogant bastard, freakling." He growled and smacked the toast from his hand. Just then Dudley walked in and took a look at the situation before giving Harry an apologetic look.

"Dad, freak here has to eat, what if he dies of malnourishment?" Dudley asked seriously and nodded towards his cousin, "Besides, he can't die here with us, we'd be blamed!"

Vernon looked extremely surprised to see his son speak up and nodded once. "Your right Dudders, But he already ate too much, no food for two weeks, water every two days. Starting when we get back."

Dudley's eyes bugged out and he couldn't so anything but nod helplessly with a fake grin plastered his face. Then he asked a million dollar question.

"What do you mean, when you get back?"

"Your mother didn't tell you?"

Dudley shook his head.

Vernon looked a little nervous and then told his son, "The neighbor offered to watch you and Potter while your mother and I take a short vacation." Then he turned to Harry with a scowl, "you'll stay over there and abide by his rules. If he hears a word of your lies..." He threatened.

Harry nodded and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room and sat on the floor, (freaks couldn't sit on the couches, they destroy everything they touch). By the time ten thirty rolled around, the older Dursleys were walking Dudley and Harry over to Snapes house. When they reached the door Vernon knocked three times on the door and waited..

"Good evening, sir." Vernon said when the door swung open, he shook Snapes hand firmly and grinned. "You sure you can handle them?"

Snape smirked at the man and gave a single curt nod, "Of course, Mr Dursley."

And with that the adults resumed their short small talk for a few more minutes while Harry and Dudley stood there silently. Eventually, the dursleys deemed it time to leave and gave Dudley big hugs and good byes. Once they were done saying goodbye, they walked back to their car and hopped in.

"Hello sir." Dudley nodded to the Professor and Snape sneered back.

"Come in, turn into the first the left and you'll find my living room, sit on the couch." Snape ordered.

The boys did so and entered a good sized living room with tall ceilings and neutral walls. They sat down and waited silently, both of them nervous about what the week would bring.

Snape walked in a few minutes after and stood in front of the boys, he started to so his lecture pacing and Harry had to hold back a groan. They'd only been here for three minutes!

"I have some ground rules I'd like to lay out." Snape started and looked at each boy, "If you have any reasonable question you will ask it during this time."

Harry gave a single curt nod and rolled his eyes while Dudley nodded fast, swinging his head up and down, impersonating a baby rattle.

"Rule number one: if you are hurt in any way, shape, or form you will come to me immediately. There will be no expectations." Snape turned to give Harry a glare and continued his pace.

"Rule number two: there will be no fighting between the both of you. You will get along happily and without complaint while under my roof."

"Rule number three: you will always treat me with respect. I do not care if you are tired, grumpy, or dying, you will treat me with the utmost respect at all times. I am not your friend, do not talk to me as if I am. And do not use slang." Snape gave both boys a look and Dudley let out a small whimper. Harry in the other hand leveled the man with a cold glare.

"Rule number four: when you are hungry, you will eat. I do not care what time it is, you will eat. I won't have either one of you dying in my house with starvation and malnourishment as cause."

Dudley grinned and looked sideways at Harry. Harry had kept his poker face and seemed to not care.

"Rule number five: the basement is off limits. If you even touch the door you will find yourself punished. Understand?" Both boys nodded and Snape continued his little speech.

"If I wish for there to be more rules, I will tell you both. Untill then you will abide by my rules. Any questions?"

Dudley nodded, "Sir, what will the punishments be."

Snape watched as Harry stiffened and seemed to hold his breath, "They will be nothing physical, I assure you. Essays and lines seem appropriate." Harry let out the breath and let his muscles relax a bit.

After a few moments silence, Snape took a step closer, "if that is all, please follow me to your rooms."

He led them down the same hallway they had come in through and to a staircase, when they reached the second floor he led them down another hall and stopped at the first door.

He opened the door to a big room with a bed in each far corner. The room had been painted a light gray with dark wood floors. The beds were both twin sized and raised a bit. There were two dressers and a single desk against the wall, besides each bed was a small night table with a muggle alarm clock on top.

"You will share this room." Snape voiced.

Harry nodded to the man and gave a small answer, "Thank you, sir." Dudley followed his example and thanked the man before sitting on the closest bed.

"Lunch will be at noon, be in the dining room by then."

And with that he shut the bedroom door and left the boys to their own devices.

.oO-Oo.

Dudley Dursley

Dudley and Harry we're in the dining room, sitting beside one another by eleven fifty eight, a full two minutes early.

Dudley had waited patiently for the food and was delighted when a plate of bean and cheese burritos were intro t of him. He dug in hungrily while Harry nibbled in his food.

Dudley watched Harry eat out of the corner of his eye in confusion. He now could eat whatever he wanted, but instead he ate only a small fraction of his meal. He even looked hungry. But still ate very little. Apparently, Snape had noticed too.

"Mr. Potter, is there something wrong with the food?"

Harry tied his head up and looked like a deer in headlights for a moment before his cool mask melted back into place. He shook his head and took another bite. When he had finished swallowing, he gave his answer.

"No sir, it's very good, Thank you." Harry responded. Dudley watched as Harry narrowed his eyes a bit at the older man and shook his head slightly. The man seemed to understand the body language and let out a silent sigh.

"Very well Potter, when we are done lunch you will meet me in the living room."

Dudley watched as his cousin closed his eyes for a moment longer than you would a blink and sucked in a small breath, "Yes professor."

The interaction puzzled Dudley a bit and then it clicked. Professor? This man knew Harry? Why was he acting like a grumpy old man then? Maybe he didn't like Harry? He looked at the man and saw him glaring daggers at Harry while Harry tensed but kept his head down.

"Do you know each other?" Dudley asked after a moment.

Snape gave Harry another 'death glare' and Harry ignored him, instead turning to Dudley. "You can't elll your parents."

Dudley thought it over for a second, and eventually nodded, "Alright."

"This man a professor at Hogwarts, Professor Snape." Harry explained and quickly rose, taking his plate to the kitchen.

"What do you teach, sir?" Dudley asked to be polite.

"Potions." Was the short snippy answer he received, his tone even matched his sneer. How the man did it, Dudley would never guess, but it sure as hell scared him shitless. And the man had only said one word!

The rest of the meal was ate in silence untill Snape rose and grabbed Dudley's plate along with his own. "I'm going to have a discussion with your cousin, do not break anything."

Dudley nodded and headed up to his room, ready for the most boring half hour of his life.

.oO-Oo.

Harry was sitting on the couch and running a hand through his hair. Snape was going to ask about his relatives and his bruises (which were healing nicely) and Harry would have to answer.

Snape walked in the room and took a seat in the chair across from Harry.

"You will explain to me why I saw you in the state you were the other night." Snape demanded her glaring at the boy and grabbing out his wand.

"Are you still wearing a glamour?!" The man asked in a tone of utmost irritation.

Harry nodded and looked up at the man with a glare sharpening his features. He had learned to always wear a glamour, most days he only wore enough to cover the bruises on his face and hands, but today he had on the full coat and felt it fall in an instant.

Snape looked at Harry's bruised face in anger. How dare those foul creatures abuse a child. In the wizarding world they would be treated with Azkaban. Harming your own child was considered worse then murder. Who would do this to a child?

Snape took a deep breath and met his pupils glare. He reached into his coat pocket and produced a bruise healer potion then handed it to Harry. Harry took it and Snape then saw his swollen hand, it looked newer thank everything else.

"What happened to your hand?"

Harry looked down at his hand then frowned, cradling it in his opposite hand, covering the top. Snape must of seen the motion because be grabbed the hand and turned it in his own. The white, shiny scars read, "I must not tell lies."

Harry jerked his hand back and was as white as a sheet. He covered up the scars again with his hand and didn't look up and meet Snapes questioning gaze.

"Potter, when did this happen?" His baritone voice was hard and cold in fury.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and looked glanced up at the man. He put his swollen hand down on the table, uncovered and lifted his head a fraction.

"Last year."

"By whom?" He inquired.

"Umbridge.".Harry answered shortly and expanded when he saw Snapes look, "during detentions, she gave me a quill that wrote in my blood."

"A blood quill? Those are highly illegal!" Snape responded with his voice raised a bit.

Harry just shrugged and ran his finger over the writing, "It wasn't too bad, I survived."

Snape shook his head and shot Harry another glare, "Did you ever tell someone?"

"Ron and Hermione." An ache struck him in the gut and he held back a gasp. He missed them both so much. He hoped they didn't hate him after the ministry. But then again, he wouldn't blame them if they did.

"Not the Wolf or deceased mutt?" Snape snarled, shaking his head.

Harry felt an even stronger pain bang into his stomach and it physically hurt. In that moment he decided that he would rather feel twenty of Vernons kicks to his stomach then hear Sirius be called a decreased mutt. Guilt pounded through his veins and started to flood in his lungs, closing them up. He took a deep breath and counted to ten before lifting his head.

"No, I never told Remus or Sirius, they were busy enough last year." Harry countered in a smooth and hard voice, hiding the guilt threatening to spill over.

Snape seemed to notice that he crossed a line and went back to the original question. "Would you explain to me why I saw you in the state you were the other night?"

"No, I cannot." Harry replied and stood up. He grabbed the forgotten potion from the end table and drunk it in a single gulp, he handed the vial back to Snape and walked out if the room and upstairs.

"Potter, we will talk tonight about this!" Snape yelled up the stairs. Once he heard the door slam he ran a hand over his face and into his hair. So the boy was still healing, both mentally and physically, great.

They would talk about this tonight.