Chapter Text
“They’re going to hurt me, you know.” Harry spoke in a small, pleading voice, standing in front of the number four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. He had already told Fudge his relatives didn't treat him as Harry knew he should be, but Fudge hadn't wanted to listen.
Harry also knew he should have expected this, but for once in his life he wanted an adult to listen to him. To help him, to take him seriously, to see him as something more than The Boy Who Lived. But apparently, the only thing he was good for was defeating a crazy, serial killer, psycho wizard.
“Trying to make me feel bad for you will do nothing, Potter. Your relatives treat you as best as they can!” Fudge’s voice started to grow into a distant buzz in Harry’s ears.
As best as they can? Being locked in a cupboard for eleven years, is the best they can treat me?
“You have clothes, food, and a comfortable house, Potter.”
Is that not the bare minimum? I’m lucky to get even a glass of water a day.
“I don't get why you see the need to act up. Perhaps a few punishments here and there are needed if you, so insist, on acting like a child.” At that, Harry snapped back to attention and glanced at the older man. Fudge had Harry fixed with a disappointed look. He had been staring at Harry like that ever since he found him at the Leaky Cauldron, it seemed like all Harry was to him was a disappointment.
“Now Harry, I am going to leave you here and you will not run away again. You will stay with your relatives, and you will pull no more of your childish pranks. Am I understood?” Fudge looked down at Harry expectantly.
“Yes, sir.” Harry spoke in a voice no higher than a whisper.
“Good, I must be off now.” He paused for a second, pursing his lips in thought. “Harry… I hope the next time we see each other, it will be in better circumstances.” Fudge was looking at him with that same look, but a hint of sadness and guilt flickered in his eyes. As if he couldn't tell where it went wrong with Harry. And honestly, Harry didn't know where it went wrong for him either.
Harry did nothing but nod at the man as he apparated away. For now, he had bigger problems to deal with than the Minister of Magic seeing him as a disappointment. Slowly, he grabbed his trunk and Hedwig and approached the door. If he ignored the abuse and neglect that he faced for his entire childhood, the house had looked almost perfect from the outside. The perfectly placed roof tiles, well taken care of garden, and the way it blended in with the rest of the neighborhood. It was almost peaceful, no freaky stuff in sight. (Except for him of course)
Harry almost snorted at the thought. Who was he kidding? There was nothing peaceful about this house. He had suffered for twelve years here, and he was about to suffer another one.
Harry shook the thoughts out of his head as he got closer to the door, dread pooling in his stomach for what awaited him on the other side. As his hand reached for the doorknob, the door suddenly swung open in his face.
“Oh no you don’t, boy!” He was greeted by Uncle Vernon’s large, red face. Harry immediately felt all the blood drain from his face, Uncle Vernon looked much angrier than usual. He felt fear like he had only ever felt when he faced Voldemort, not the kind that he felt when being chased by Dudley and his gang. Not the kind that he felt when he burned the morning bacon under Aunt Petunia’s watchful eye.
The kind of fear where he knew his life was at risk.
He was rudely brought back to reality when Uncle Vernon planted his fist hard in his hair and dragged him inside the house. He was mumbling under his breath, but Harry could only make out a few words like “ungrateful, freak, disgusting” and many other not-so-pretty phrases.
Uncle Vernon threw all but threw him to the floor, in favor of grabbing Hedwig's cage and his trunk. Harry tried to scramble to his feet from where he was, and back away to the wall opposite to his cupboard. But Vernon was faster. He grabbed Harry again by the back of his shirt and this time threw him into the wall. Harry crumpled again, his glasses had awkwardly smushed into his face and he felt something warm trickle down from his nostrils.
He blinked away the blurriness in his eyes, and realised Uncle Vernon was already at his cupboard, swinging the small door open. He threw his trunk and Hedwig's cage inside. He heard Hedwig shriek and knew that later he would have to give her treats and pamper her as much as she wanted. But he did not dare to utter a sound, knowing that something as small as his voice could be the difference between life and death.
“After all these years, boy, this is how you repay us? We’ve given you food, a place to sleep, a damned roof to rest under. And this is what we get back?!” Uncle Vernon's face was now purple. He turned away from his task, just for a moment, to point at Harry with his meaty finger and give him a look that shook Harry to his core.
“I wonder what would happen if I really did it, if I finally were to get rid of you. Those other freaks never seem to ever do anything, despite Petunia's worries.” Harry felt his breathing grow quicker, and he thought he might be sick.
He narrowed his eyes at Harry. “Nobody would care if you were to just die.” Uncle Vernon went back to trying to shut Hedwig up, smacking and rattling her cage a few times.
He might actually try to kill me.
With that thought, something snapped in Harry’s mind as he watched his Uncle struggle to lock the cupboard door. He noticed his breathing had become erratic and took a deep breath, he glanced with wide eyes at his Uncle, then to the stairs. And he ran for it.
Not caring for how loud he was being, he booked it straight into his room. He had to find a way out of here, he needed to somehow escape with his life. He heard Uncle Vernon's angry bellowing downstairs, but ignored it.
Once he made it to his room, he slammed the door shut and put his desk chair behind it, hoping to slow down Vernon a bit. What could he do? What should he do? What can get him out of here? Harry’s breathing was beginning to pick up again, and he felt tears pricking in his eyes at the feeling of helplessness that was growing inside.
In the back of his mind, he could hear Uncle Vernon stomping up the stairs, yelling about how he would beat Harry bloody. He needed to contact someone, but how? Hedwig was locked in the cupboard, he couldn't use the phone, he couldn't use magic… But what if he had to?
If it was a life or death situation, surely his use of magic would be excused? Fudge’s earlier words rang inside his head, but maybe there could be an exception? Harry realised he had been lost in his thoughts for far too long when the banging on his door started.
Vernon had removed all the locks on his door, and was now trying to break into his room. Harry started panicking and tried to think of a spell that could help him. He didn’t want to go crazy and start attacking Uncle Vernon with hexes and jinxes…
Expecto Patronum!
He lit up a little as he recalled the memory of him and Hermione studying about it in the library. It had been right before the summer of their second year, and they were just hanging out in the library…
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Him and Hermione were reading, occasionally making comments to each other about interesting things they found. Ron had been doing the same thing until he fell asleep reading his third Quidditch book, and now he was just sitting next to them with his head laid on the cover.
It was peaceful, not many others were in the library. The only sounds that could be heard were pages flipping, footsteps of other students, and Ron’s soft snoring.
Harry was on his third book, The Radiant Guardian: Mastering The Patronus Charm. When he first picked up the book, he honestly had no idea what the spell was. He was really only drawn to the beautiful bird that was on the cover.
He had never seen a bird like it before. It was pure, silky white, and looked almost ethereal. Its feathers looked as if each one were carefully placed to give the bird its appearance. Even though he had only picked it up based on his interest in the cover, he had found himself wondering more about the spell.
Naturally, he shared his reading with Hermione, and she too became interested almost immediately.
“Expecto Patronum is not only a spell of protection but also a profound representation of the light that can exist even in the darkest of times. Mastering this spell requires practice, emotional strength, and a deep understanding of oneself, making it one of the most celebrated charms in the magical community.”
“The Patronus charm can come in many forms. The animal it morphs into depends on the purity of your soul, the love you hold for others, and your overall character. Each Patronus reflects the inner qualities of the caster and can be a personal source of pride. To cast a Patronus, you need to think of a powerful positive memory. The more intense the positive emotion is, the more effective the charm.”
“The Patronus charms main purpose is to act as a shield against Dementors, they repel them and replace their cold effect with a sense of safety and hope. The Patronus charm can also be used as a form of communication amongst wizards and witches over distances.”
Reading this, Harry felt a strong urge to learn this spell. He felt as if this was something he absolutely had to do.
“‘Mione, do you think that maybe we could learn this together?” Harry asked his best friend politely, but his excitement was bleeding through his huge smile.
“Of course, Harry! This is a bit of a higher level spell though, so we’ll need to be extra patient.” She reciprocated his excitement and instantly began reading about the wand movement and how to properly cast.
They spent about three hours that day in the library, Ron eventually woke up and joined them for the last two. It was one of the best moments in Harry’s life. Him, surrounded by two people he loved, and they loved him right back.
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With that memory, Harry had all the power he needed to cast the charm. He gingerly picked up his wand, noting the sharp pain in his wrist as he did, and mumbled the words “Expecto Patronum.”
Slowly, a silvery mist began to flow out of his wand. Then, it started to form into the shape of a beautiful stag that had become so familiar to him. Harry smiled as the comfort of his patronus took over, momentarily forgetting what was outside his door.
“You better not be doing anything freaky in there, boy! I swear if you do anything mor–” Harry began to blur out Vernon’s roaring voice, focusing only on his patronus and where it needed to go. Still ignoring Vernon’s loud fists making contact with his door, he began to think of who he wanted his message to go to.
Quickly going through a list of people in his head, he settled for Hermione. He had already tried the Dumbledore card before and it hadn’t worked, and the Weasley’s were already as busy as they come. Hermione’s parents were muggles, so Vernon wouldn’t be able to get as mad at them as he would anyone from the wixen world, so overall she was the best choice.
Thud, thud, thud
Harry’s breathing began to pick up once more.
What if help didn’t get here in time? What if nobody even bothers to come? Will I really die here? Is he really going to kill me?
Thoughts began running through Harry’s mind like a slideshow. Merlin, he was really trying not to show it but he was so scared.
Thud, thud, thud
His breathing wasn’t slowing down for anything and he felt warm tears making their way down his face.
Thud, thud, thud
He let out a gasp, and his eyes blew wide.
No.
He was not going to let it end here, not without a fight. Thirteen years wasn't enough for him. Taking a few more deep gasps for air, he messily brought a hand up to his face and wiped his tears, ignoring the strays that still managed to leak out.
He looked directly at the glowy stag and let out a desperate plea, “I need you to go to Hermione, okay?”
Gasping once more he continued, “Hermione, you have to come get me. I messed up, I messed up really bad.” He felt himself cut off with a strangled sob, his throat tight. He didn’t even bother with the tears that were flowing down his face, mixing with the crusted blood underneath his nose.
Thud, thud, thud
“I need you to get me out of here, okay? Listen to me, my address is 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Please, please you have to come. I can’t say why right now but if you don’t come, something bad will happen.” Harry said, hoping his rushed explanation would be enough for his friend.
Thud, thud, thud
Harry took a breath and prepared to say his next sentence before he was interrupted by a loud crash, combined with a loud cry from Vernon.
He let out a similar gasp as Vernon fisted a hand in his hair, dragging his face to be directly in front of his.
“You’ll regret this boy.” Vernon's low threat was the last thing Harry heard before a sharp pain exploded in his head and everything went dark.