I don't own this stuff. really. and there would be no point in suing me anyway.


AN: This begins after Petunia is sent to the hospital with stress related complications;(note that he couldn't really be

hurt by Vernon if Petunia is there, which is why she isn't) Her Dudders was caught doing

drugs with his little gang, among other things, and she just couldn't handle that information.

And of course, Vernon blames Harry for every last bit of it. I don't know if I'll even attempt to continue or if it's

just a one shot.

Harry woke up to almost total darkness, only a few slivers of light getting throug the cracks in the door to the cupboard

under the stairs. He tried to get up, but found that as he was crammed into the small space along with his trunk he

couldn't really move unless he opened the door, which he couldn't move his arm far enough to do. No. He would have to

wait until morning when his aunt or uncle opened it for him. Somehow though, Harry didn't think he'd have been able to

drag himself out of the cupboard anyway, he was in so much pain after the beating his uncle gave him. But he also did

not want to go back to sleep and face his nightmares. So Harry just lay there staring into the darkness, and occasionally

turning his head to look at the small sliver of moonlight entering through the crack. Idly he wondered which phase the moon

was in and whether or not Professor Lupin had gone through one of his transformations yet again. He tried to focus on

Lupin, and all the things he had taught him, but his thoughts always somehow returned to his godfather. Sirius. The man

who had escaped from Azkaban to protect him from his parents' traitor, Wormtail. The man who had become his family. The

only family he had. And what did he get for it. Locked away in his own house, which was almost as effective at bringing

back bad memories as a dementor, and then killed by the very person whom he had broken out of prison to save. Killed by

Harry's irrationality and his foolishness to believe in a vision which Voldemort himself had constructed and sent to him

as a 'gift'.

And now here he was, back in his cupboard again. Only this time he was too big for it, and with having to lie on top of

his school things it was, he imagined, about like what lying in a coffin must feel like. He had barely managed to get his

invisibility cloak out of his trunk from underneath him in order to have something to keep warm with, although not without

cutting himself on the broken shards of the mirror Sirius had given him. He couldn't really assess the damage to his hand

and arm in the dark, but he imagined it must have been pretty bad, as he was starting to feel lightheaded even after he had

wrapped his hand up in the folds of the cloak. He thought about calling for help, but he knew no one would hear him from

in here, except perhaps the spiders. So instead he gave up fighting sleep, and decided to let the nightmares take him,

finally deciding that he deserved them, and that he deserved to be locked up under the Dursley's stairs like something that

everyone should be ahsamed of. Like the sewage that runs under the house and out to the street. That he deserved to be

beaten as he had been by Vernon, and burned with that iron and the boiling hot water which had dripped out of it onto his

face and even into one of his eyes, which he could no longer see out of. Somehow, thinking all this, the pain he felt

started to feel lessened somehow, and so when this happened he forced himself to focus exclusively on the pain, which also

lessened the intensity of his nightmares.


Harry awoke again to the bright light from the door of the cupboard being opened, and Vernon shouting at him for causing

such a huge mess with his disgusting and 'infected' blood and couldn't help but scream as Vernon grabbed his bloody cloak

away from his hand and used what he guessed must have been the same iron to seal the wound, apparently so that he

wouldn't make any more mess on the carpet, where blood had leaked outside the door.

He then slammed the door shut again and told Harry that as punishment for making the mess, he would be locked in there for

the next week without food or water, and that if he hoped to survive he'd better use his freakish abilities to do it, so

that he'd be expelled from his school and hopefully they'd come and take Harry to prison, so he could finally be rid of

him. Then he heard ripping noises, and Vernon cursing about something. He could only assume his invisibility cloak was

being destroyed. Somehow at that point Harry really didn't care. It was almost funny. Had Vernon known exactly how much

gold he could get for that cloak, he probably would have tried frantically to piece it back together.

The next few days were the worst Harry had ever endured. He never tried to ask for water after the first time, when Vernon

had threatened to 'Make absolutely certain he would never procreate', despite how much he needed the life giving liquid.

It was in the third day that he began having to fight just to be able to breathe at all. He felt so weak that he didn't

think he could have done magic to conjure any water anyway. But somehow...miraculously, he thought, or maybe he was just

delusional...a slow, steady drip begain falling from the ceiling in the cupboard, he imagined, he couldn't open his eyes,

and was rolling down his face, and into his mouth, slowly. After that, everything went black.