Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ HP: Silent Anguish ❯ Concrete Angel ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

-Chapter One: Concrete angel.

“You will never be strong enough,
You will never be good enough.
You were never conceived in love,
You will not rise above.”

Evanescence- Lies.

The day was depressing: dark gray, and black clouds covered the once pale blue sky, making it look cold, lifeless, anguished. It felt almost as if the sky was about to cut itself open and pore its acid liquid upon the Earth. Drowning it in darkness, leaving everyone in inescapable agony.

At least, that’s what it looked like to the small shivering child no older than seven, sitting within the large brown, yellow, and red oak tree, placed in the corner of the small damp garden. Owned by one, Mr. And Mrs. Dursley.

The boy’s hair was dark, black, bleak. Just like the raven that could often be seen hidden within the tree in the front yard, and messy like the back of a hedgehog.

So messy in fact that it flew over his forehead, and concealed a mysterious lightning bolt shaped scar, located just above his right eyebrow and stopped just above his amazingly beautiful emerald/green eyes. Which were puffy and red, from the once warm tears that had made there way down his pink dirty face.

This boy, this child was Harold James Potter and he was The-Boy-Who-Lived. of corse he knew that not. To himself he was only Harry the insignificant pimple on the face of the planet, and why shouldn’t he not think that? Its what his Uncle Vernon had told him every day for the past six years.

Harry, obviously in distress shifted his weight on the tree-limb. He could hear it crackle underneath him, causing his innocent eyes to clamp shut, his face to scrunch up, and hot tears to fall again. For just below him prowled a huge, ugly, ferocious, blood thirsty black and brown pit-bull.

The raven haired child held back the loud sob that had made its way into his throat, as the dog he had secretly named “The Creeper” because of the innate ability it had for sneaking up on him without being heard. Jumped up from the ground and snapped at Harry’s dangling leg.

Quickly Harry pulled his leg above the branch, causing the dog to miss. No longer having any control he let out a loud sob.

“Crying is for the weak!” He could hear his Uncle Vernon’s voice screaming at him in the back of his head, “What the Fuck is wrong with you!? Stop that!” Harry let out another sob.

He heard the dog let out a yelping sound as it hit the ground, even if he didn’t look down at ‘The Creeper’ he knew what it was doing.

The puffy eyed child could picture it in his head, the humongous dog prowling around the trunk of the tree trying to find its way up, then after a moment of thinking jumping up in the exact same spot it had before only to fail in catching its pray yet again.

“Thrasher!” He heard the husky voice of his Aunt Marge call out, “Thrasher! Get away from that thing!” Harry wiped the cold tears off of his pink face, he didn’t want anyone to see he was crying.

Looking down he watched as ‘The Creeper’ stared at him from the ground with his demonic beady black eyes, almost as if silently promising that next time they were to meet, it would be their last. Then with great speed he ran off to his owner.

As soon as Marge was out of Harry’s peripheral vision, Harry let out a large sigh of relief. His coal colored hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead, he hated that dog.

But the dog was gone, and so was Marge. His relatives were most likely already on there way to the airport, and the only thing left for him to do was get out of the tree. Which was easier said than done considering the fact that he was twice as small than someone his age should normally be.

Gently Harry stood up on the shaking tree limb, whether it was him who was shaking or the limb itself he couldn’t tell.

Grabbing on to the base of the tree for support, he brought one foot off the limb and placed it on another limb located just a way’s below him.

At first everything was going great, he had made his way off the limb he had been originally sitting on and was now standing on a new branch, but without warning the branch made a loud snapping sound and before he knew it he was on the ground looking up at the black cloud covered sky.

He felt so dizzy, almost like he had just span around in circles. Closing his eyes, he could feel the cold winters wind blowing against his clammy face. It felt so good.

Re-opening his eyes he found that the dizziness didn’t go away, in fact it had gotten worse. Quickly he snapped his emerald green eyes shut again, he was so tired.

Not only had ‘The Creeper’ been chasing him around almost all day, but he was the one who was forced to make breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Which was a very hard task for him to do with Dudley screaming at him to cook faster, his Aunt screaming at him not to burn anything, and the even the chair which he had been standing on was against him. Considering the fact that the leg had snapped causing Harry to fly across the kitchen and smack his Aunt Marge in the gut.

Which in turn caused Thrasher or ‘The Creeper’ to become in raged, at the sound of his masters screaming. Yes, today left him very tired.

Relaxing his muscles he found himself slowly drifting into the land of sleep, he didn’t fight it. Sometimes he wished he could sleep forever, and never wake again. He haded the Dursley’s they didn’t love him, he wanted a real Mommy, and a real Daddy, and maybe even a baby brother or sister.

Not an stick figure with a horses face for and Aunt, not an over weight no neck Uncle, and not a pig in a blond wig Cousin! But a real family.

“Yes,” Harry breathed as sleep came to take him into his world of rem, “A real. . . Family.” He fell asleep just as the rain started to drizzle down from above.

Some time later Harry awoke with a start, his heart rasing at a beat per second. He had this feeling, that he couldn’t describe, it was like the feeling that you get when you know something really, really bad is about to happen.

It was then he heard a soft thumping sound at the top of the stairs, someone was awake. Wrapping himself up tightly in his thin lanky blanket he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

Thump, thump, thump. The noise above him slowly made its way down the stairs, and into the hallway between the kitchen and the living room, unfortunately his cupboard was in-between both.

It was then Harry started to question the sound, was someone awake? Or was it the sound of his own heart trying to escape from the cage which protected it? He couldn’t tell.

Then there was silence, the calm before the storm you could say. Even the air had become thick and still, “Please,” Harry prayed for what ever or who ever was outside his door, to leave him be.

But that prayer like so many others would not be heard.

The small silver latch which kept the young boy from leaving the small cramped space, slid back with a chink. Dread washed over him, he couldn’t help but feel like everything was about to change for the worst.

. . . He was right.

The door to his cupboard flew open, he didn’t have to look. He knew who it was, it was the man who Harry knew secretly wanted to drown him. Yes DROWN HIM.

His Uncle Vernon.

Gripping the cloth he tried not to shake, not from the large man frowning maliciously upon him. But of the cold, that seeped into his room when the door was opened.

It was then without even a hint of warning Vernon grabbed him from the scruff of the neck like a dog, and pinned him up against the peach colored wall.

He tried his best not to cry, he really did! But it slipped out anyway. “Mother Fucker.” Vernon hist, his head bowed low.

By this time Harry was shaking something fierce, “Uncle?” He whispered his breath being choked off from the large hand gripping the back of his neck, and the tears of pain that were streaming down his face.

“You little shit!” The large man screamed, little droplets of spittle fell on Harry’s tear streaked face, “The things you make me do.” A small chuckle escaped from Vernon’s lips.

Now not only was Harry terrified he was confused, “Un,” he never got to finish. Vernon brought his free hand up and slapped the child across the face so hard it split the boy’s round soft pink bottom lip.

The emerald eyed boy let out a howl of pain, which his in return caused his Uncle to cover Harry’s mouth with his own large chubby hand. “Shut up!” The large man hissed again.

“Do you know what you do to me?” He asked Harry, who didn’t answer. “I knew it!” Turning the boy around so his front was facing the wall the slammed the child into it, again and again and again.

“You,”
“Are a,”
“Freak!” shouted as he slammed the poor child into the wall. “I got fired today,” He dropped Harry who landed on the floor with a thump.

Pain shot through Harry’s body, he could swear that he could even feel it running through his veins. Another sob escaped from his cracked lips, he hurt so bad.

“Not only that Petunia, my lovely pet. Doesn’t want any of this tonight!” He shouted, but Harry wasn’t paying attention, no. He was already working his way towards the front door, away from his Uncle.
“Where the hell do you thing you’re going!?” Vernon asked grabbing the boy from the pant leg and dragged him back. “You want to play that game, huh?!”

The fat man, still holding on to Harry’s pant leg proceeded up the stares, dragging the hysterical boy behind him. “Please!” Harry cried not understanding what was going on, “Uncle I’m sorry I didn’t mean it!” He apologized, even though he knew not what he was apologizing for.

It wasn’t long before Vernon and Harry entered the guest bed room down the hall and to the left. It was there Vernon threw Harry onto the neatly made bed.

“Its time we lay down some ground rules.” Vernon stated as he turned the latch on the doorknob, locking it. “Rule number one: I’m the boss! You do not question me!” Vernon grabbed the chair that stood in front of the desk and placed it under the doorknob.

“Rule number two: You are not aloud to speak, not unless you are spoken to!” He made his way over to the shaking boy.

“B-but U-unc-cle!” Vernon brought his hand up and struck the terrified child.

“Or there will be dire consequences,” Harry nodded his hands hiding his swollen face. “And third: You are to tell no one what goes on in this house,” Vernon grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt and brought the child’s face abnormally close to his own. “Because they will never believe you.”

And with that Vernon brought his lips down onto Harry’s swollen and puffy lips, causing the boy to squeak in surprise.

Harry felt so sick, ‘This is wrong!’ His mind screamed as he kept his lips closed as tightly as he could. His arms pounded at his Uncles shoulders as he tried to wiggle himself free. It wasn’t working.

Vernon reached his arm around the small child and roughly squeezed the seven year olds ass. Harry opened his mouth, as he gasped in surprise. Which in turn gave the fat man full access to the boy’s mouth.

‘Oh god!’ His mind screamed, his Uncles tongue was in his mouth! He could taste beer and the blood from his lip. Without thinking he bit down on Vernon’s tongue as hard as he could.

“Fuck!” Vernon cursed and dropped Harry who ran passed him to the door. Under normal circumstances the task of: pulling the chair out of the way, standing on it to unlock the door which Harry couldn’t reach without help, and getting out. Would be easy, but in his state of mind he grabbed the chair and jerked it, again and again. Unable to get it out from under the doorknob.

“Aunt Petunia!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, his small hands banging on the wall next to the door, “Aunt Pe.” His words where cut off by Vernon whom had recovered from the bite.

“You freak!” He lisped grabbing Harry by the arm, nearly ripping it out of its socket. “I’ll fucking teach you to mess with me!” Grabbing the collar of Harry’s shirt he ripped it strait down the middle. Then pushing Harry onto the bed, stomach first he removed the child’s pants.

Harry felt Vernon get off of him, and all was silent well except for the small sobs escaping from Harry.

Trembling he picked himself off the bed, and turned around the only article of clothing preventing him from being completely naked was his underwear. “I-I’m s-s-s-s-s,” He tried to apologize but he couldn’t get the words to come out.

“Take them off,” He heard his Uncle state in a low tone of voice.
“U-u-u-unc-c-c,” A loud hiccup escaped from his chest, he always got the hiccups when he was upset.

“I said TAKE THEM OFF!” He repeated, with trembling hands Harry slowly reached for his underwear. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get himself to stop crying.

Finally, after several minutes of slowly taking his undergarment off. The boy was completely naked, exposed. He felt dirty, ashamed, he wanted to shrivel up like a flower in front of a fire.

Harry hid his face in his hands, “Are you crying!?” He heard Vernon’s voice in the background, it sounded muffled, far away.

“P-p-ple-e-ea,” He hiccuped again, why was this happening to him!?

“What did I say about crying!?” Vernon shouted again his words were distant, Harry shook his head he could still taste the blood from his lip.

Before Harry realized what was happening, Vernon had pinned him on his back his arms high above his head and legs spread. “N-no!” Harry screamed bucking around on the bed, wiggling trying anything he could to get free.

It was then without any word of warning, he felt something slip inside of him. It hurt like the intensity of a thousand suns. He screamed, louder than he had ever screamed before.

It pushed in, and then out, then back in at an unsteady pace. He could feel blood dripping down his leg, “S-s-st-t-op!” He bawled. But it didn’t stop, it got worse and soon it was to much for the small boy. He passed out.