A Break in the Silence

A/N: I don't own these charactors... I do wish I did right about now, though.

Chapter One-Piercing Scream

The blazing sun streamed down on several of the large square houses of privet drive as a rather ruffled-looking teenage boy came back up th quiet street. Today, Vernon Dursley was to have another one of his perfect dinner parties, and he Harry would sit in his room, making no noise, and pretending that he didn't exist. The problem with that was Harry being extremely exhausted. His dreams never brought peace. Instead, they brought terror, tremors, and everything in between. Vernon knew this, so it would be even harder than usual to stop his ruthless uncle from doing something rash.

Dudley, his perfect son would be waiting at the door to "take the lovely guests' coats." and Petunia would be forced to stay out of the way tonight, considering the last time. Vernon was drawing further and further away from regular Dursleyish life, and progressing to something more. It was always something wrong with the way he Harry was dressed, or there was something dreadfully wrong with his wife's cooking. Either way, Harry didn't care. He only had about a month and a half to stay anyway…

"Boy!"

This had come as no surprise. Vernon always had his 'you're going to do this' speech. Today was no different. "Yes, Uncle Vernon?"

"You'll be upstairs with your aunt this evening. If I hear one word to suggest that theres more people in this dwelling than me and Dudley, you'll be seeing a different side of the moon when I'm done with you!"

"Alright. I mean I've heard these threats before, and they just don't seem to sink in. I guess it's just because I've had no proper learning, because I was sent to St. Brutus's center for incurable criminal boys!"

He left the room quickly and headed back upstairs without looking back at his uncle. Apparently, he hadn't gotten the picture, because later, when his million-dollar-guests arrived, he began showing off all the canes and belts that he had used when he "worked part-time" there. The others seemed to think that rather funny, for they laughed about it at least ten minutes.

Petunia wandered the hall soundlessly, but warningly. When she saw Harry sitting outside his room reading a book on old goblin rebellions, a silent scream passed hrough her lips and into his ears. It was the loudest thing imaginable, but Vernon and the others didn't seem to hear or care for that matter. The party lasted for hours, and finally the door shut, and a car pulled out of the drive. This night would end peacefully, but there would probably be a twist to that peace. Petunia was sure of that. She gave Harry a last warning stare and headed to her room to wait for Vernon as he had planned for her to do, but he never came. She thought she heard him coming up the stairs talking to Dudley about their wonderful father-son time, but no. There was no one about.

A clink of bottles from downstairs told Harry exactly what the dynamic duo were doing. Apparently the deal had gone down, and Vernon would soon be a rich businessman who had a son and wife to leave his assets to. Harry himself knew that he would never be included in this mess. This was strictly a family thing, and when money was involved, he wasn't family. A half hour later, Vernon came galumphing up the stairs and banged on Harry's door.

Slurred: "Y-you boy, I h heard you flippin' pages when you read that stupid book! I told you not to make a sound, and you did! What do you suppose should happen to yeh then?"

His logical thought was out the window, and now there was nothing to stop him or his uncle from hitting the highest tension level possible. "I have no fucking idea what you should do to me, why don't you sit on your nicely drunken ass and ponder that one?"

He stepped back as Vernon swung blindly at Harry's many forms. "You'll regret the day you ever s-said that boy!" A few more blind swings later, Vernon found himself in the living room standing over a messed up shell of a teenager. "What's it look like now?" He grinned menacingly at Harry showing many brandy-stained teeth.

"Picture's getting clearer…" Harry's vision had begun to blur with tiredness. This wasn't good for him right now, and he knew it. Why haven't you graciously invited Dudley to take a couple swings at his nasty cousin, hmm? It is pretty obvious that it's been your goal to get me and him in some type of squabble…"

Petunia meanwhile had heard this and came slowly to the head of the stairs. Vernon had been hoping for this all along, and pulled Harry downstairs. What kind of husband had she married? After all, this was Lily's son, and she truly loved her sister dearly. What was to become of him, and what was her fate when she and Lily met up again? Vernon used to be a great man, that is until Harry had been "landed" with them… she still resented the fact that he had said that in full view of that strange tabby cat sitting on the garden wall. She had known that was no ordinary cat. Lily had told her long ago that a tabby with those markings was one of her professors at her school. Naturally, Petunia didn't believe her. One day she had the chance o see the transformation. She should have believed her sister, for it was a very strict witch by the name of Minerva McGonagall.

Now, Lily's son was more than likely going to be beaten half to death by her husband. She heard the awful sound of a belt being lashed across the skin, and knew that it was all over. Her marriage, happiness, hope, and safety were all coming to a crashing end.

Just then, Vernon began to move toward where she stood. Petunia stood dazed and confused as her massive husband swayed on the spot right in front of her.

"Well? What 'ave you been doin' while I was talkin' to those clients?" He looked at her with great distaste as she looked down at her nephew behind her husband. "Good time to take a look at the skinny boy that was your sister's little-"

"That's quite enough Vernon!" She shot down the remaining length of the hall and threw herself down the stairs.

Dudley lay sleeping on the sofa which was sagging with his weight. The fact that Vernon had actually let him drink drove her mad. Harry was responsible enough not to drink, although (she had to admit) he had good reason to. She had been in touch with Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, the previous summer. He had written that Harry had just lost his godfather, and the previous year, he had to endure the triwizard Tournament. It had consisted of three tasks: One, to get past a dragon. Two, to take the golden egg that he had taken from the dragon and figure out the clue to saving Ron from the mermen. Three, to make his way through a magical maze and retrieve the triwizard cup. The only problem with that was that there was a sinister twist to all of this. Bartemius Crouch Jr. had made sure that Harry would be taken to a graveyard where Tom Riddle Sr. was buried. He made sure that Voldemort would rise again. Petunia felt deep sorrow for her nephew, although she was afraid to show it. That had been a very hard day. As she looked at him now, there was that softness in his eyes that had only been there once. That was when he had been about one year old. He had looked at her in such wonder that she took him back out of the cupboard and held him for what seemed like an eternity. Now, she would probably never see that again.

Later, Vernon sobered up a bit, and apologized for what all he did, at least to Petunia and Dudley. Harry never heard one word of this alleged apology. It wasn't directed toward him. He was in his room massaging his arm and wrist from where Vernon had slammed it into the door. He resented his uncle and cousin about as much as he resented Malfoy and his family. He didn't know what to think about Malfoy now. After his issues with Killing Dumbledore last term, Harry had mixed feelings about the slytherin. He had said that he couldn't kill him, and Dumbledore had offered protection for him and his family from Voldemort and the death eaters. This would have worked had Severus Snape not shown up…

Hedwig came soaring in from the bar-less window and dropped a letter into his hands. He recognized the emerald handwriting and decided to actually read it.

Harry,

Hoping you are well, and same to Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. I have a proposal. You will find a folded piece of parchment in this letter. It's a portkey. The password is Albus. Take it as soon as you receive this. I'll be waiting.

Hoping you are well,

Minerva McGonagall

In truth, Harry had no idea as to what this meant. It could be bad or good. Surely Vernon wouldn't mind if he slipped out for a couple minutes. Petunia on the other hand, that would be a risk leaving her here after what had just happened. No doubt Dudley would still be zoned out on the sofa downstairs.

He went toward the back bedroom, and prepared himself for the angry-faced Uncle Vernon that he was bound to meet. Right as he reached for the doorknob, a terrifying scream broke the silence. Several muffled sobs and punching sounds later, he dared to open the barrier between peace and war.

Petunia lay still and bruised in the master bedroom. Vernon was nowhere in sight, and Dudley's freakishly large snores were still being heard from his resting place. Without thinking, he dug into the still open envelope and pulled out the folded bit of burned parchment. This was their only means of escape from the ensuing chaos.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" He stepped toward his aunt. She was apparently unaware of her surroundings seeing as she started to shake and cower at his slightest touch. He took her hand and squeezed the parchment.

"Albus!"