The Diamond of Light

The Diamond of Light

Chapter 3 - The Rescue and the Struggle for Life

"Harry! Harry!" Someone was calling his name. There was a note of concern in the voice. He also felt that someone was shaking his shoulder gently.

Harry bolted upright and his eyes snapped open. His violent movement must have startled the person. The hand was jerked away from his shoulder immediately, followed by a soft gasp.

"Thank goodness you finally woke up," a kind voice entered his ears again. Harry looked up and found Mrs. Figg was gazing down at him.

"Mrs. Figg?" Harry asked. He suddenly realized how hoarse and croaky his voice was. There was a burning feeling his throat, and it was rather painful to make sounds. It took about half a minute for him to register why he was here and why Mrs. Figg was standing over him. Then the nightmare struck him with full force. He shivered as the pain and cold swept through his body once again. Harry placed his hand over his scar, which was stinging horribly. He nursed his forehead carefully, hoping the pain would subdue, but it didn't really help. Then he remembered he should tell Dumbledore about his dream. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the occasional twinges in every part of his body. He managed to stand up, though he swayed back and forth a little and finally fell forwards. Mrs. Figg caught him around the middle, and Harry bit his lower lip to withhold a cry of pain. He hoped dearly that his babysitter wouldn't notice this.

The old woman helped the teenager take a seat on the front steps. She ruffled Harry's untidy hair soothingly. Then she put her arm around Harry's shoulders to keep him warm.

"What happened? You don't seem to be in good shape and you're soaked to your skin in sweat," she asked carefully. Her voice carried a parental tone.

Harry felt his eyes fill with tears. Someone did care about him. He felt warmth in his heart. He wanted to tell Mrs. Figg how his blood relatives were treating him, but he would be in BIG trouble if he did this. Harry also wished to tell Mrs. Figg about his dreams, but she would never understand. She was such a normal old lady (Uncle Vernon often referred to witches or wizards as abnormal freaks) and she would probably ponder Harry's sanity if he told her what he witnesses in his dreams. He'd better keep his mouth shut for that question.

"Err... Mrs. Figg, why do you visit me so late?" Harry asked timidly, hoping to change the subject and avoid answering her question.

Harry gulped as he saw Mrs. Figg frown. Luckily, Mrs. Figg did not press on the topic. Instead, she gave Harry a reassuring squeeze before answering his inquiry.

"Well, I was looking for some important things when I heard your screams. So I decided to see what happened and-" She stopped at the terrified look on Harry's face.

"I-I screamed?" Harry croaked. Harry hoped his voice did not betray how frightened he was. He swore that Uncle Vernon would kill him this time.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Asked a worried Mrs. Figg, she had never seen Harry that scared before. Then she heard ponderous footsteps coming nearer and nearer. She tensed a bit when she felt Harry was frozen on the spot.

The door was yanked open so violently that both Harry and Mrs. Figg jumped a foot in the air. A purple-faced Uncle Vernon charged through the door, his eyes were bloodshot and the anger displayed on his face was the most frightening thing Harry had ever seen.

"I'VE TOLD YOU BOY! FOR EVERY SCREAM IN NIGHT, YOU WILL PAY DEARLY! YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY THIS TIME!" He roared, spittle flying everywhere. He was just about to strangle Harry when he noticed Mrs. Figg was standing on the front door steps too, watching his every move fearfully. Uncle Vernon took a deep breath before twisting his face into a somewhat painful looking smile.

"Mrs. Figg, I'm sorry that my nephew is disturbing you. I promise my wife and I will teach him a lesson," he said in a deep voice. He caught Harry by his waist with one fat arm and the boy struggled weakly. Harry tried desperately to get back onto the ground, yet his feet were hanging hopelessly in the air. He looked at Mrs. Figg pleadingly, hoping she would get him out of this.

Mrs. Figg took a step towards Harry, thinking of how to handle this tense situation, but Uncle Vernon was faster. He retreated into his house quickly and slammed the door in her face.

Harry was thrust onto the floor as soon as the door was slammed shut. He let out a soft whimper and Uncle Vernon gave him a glare that silenced him immediately. Then his uncle pressed his ear against the door to hear whether Mrs. Figg was gone or not. After what seemed like an eternity, Uncle Vernon smiled evilly with much satisfaction.

Oh no, Harry thought as Uncle Vernon turned around and charged towards him. He tried to back away, but Uncle Vernon had already grasped a handful of his wet hair. His cry of pain was muffled as a porky hand was clamped over his mouth. He was dragged along the hallway. He heard a door click and he was shoved inside the little cupboard under the stairs again. He couldn't see his uncle's face in this dark room now, and he was glad.

"You're not going to eat for a week!" Uncle Vernon hissed, his voice was filled with menace, Harry flinched. Then he heard something like "shut you up forever" and "cut your throat" after he saw Uncle Vernon draw something from his pocket. Before Harry could react Uncle Vernon launched himself on top of the boy, Harry thrashed around, kicking his legs frantically. His uncle immediately sat on him, prevented him from any further movement. Harry felt that the bones in both of his legs were going to snap from the weight. He could hardly breathe and it was even more impossible to make a sound. Seeing the boy was quite defenseless Vernon stuffed the thing into Harry's mouth. It had a foul taste and Harry coughed, inhaling more of the pungent gas as a result. Harry's immediate response was to pick the smelly thing out of his mouth. His hand had barely reached his mouth when Vernon caught his wrist painfully.

"Don't. You. Dare." Uncle Vernon snarled. He got to his feet, forcing a sputtering Harry to stand upright by seizing his nephew's oversized collar. "Perhaps you, little bastard, will shut up when you're dead," he breathed. His face was so close to Harry's that their noses almost touched. Harry took his chance to struggle again. He used all his strength to attack aimlessly. At last, he succeeded to give a good kick at somewhere around his uncle's crotch. With a small thud Harry felt his foot connect with something soft. Vernon yelped in pain as he let go of Harry's collar. Harry made a dash for the door, but he fell over, as he suddenly felt weak in the knees. He tried to crawl away from the approaching monster, but he was not in luck today. Vernon grabbed his ankle and dragged him back to the cupboard again.

Uncle Vernon had finally lost control over himself due to Harry's attack. He grasped Harry's neck and spat, "You bastard." He strangled his nephew. Harry was becoming weaker and weaker as time passed. He felt considerable pain at the back of his head, as his uncle slammed him into the wall. Harry felt a bit dizzy for a moment before his whole body went numb and he was engulfed by darkness.

* * *

Some foul smell made Harry feel extremely sick and nauseated. He moaned, finding that the noise he made was extremely muffled. He felt something inside his mouth, then tried to spit it out but failed to do so. He pulled the material out of his mouth warily and winced. It was painful to try and move his arm. He opened his left eye blearily and caught sight of the filthy sock clenched in his hand.

"Eck." He choked out, turning as far away from the disgusting object as possible. He clenched his teeth in pain as he moved. His body felt like it was ripped into two halves. At that moment, he realized that he was lying on a bed. Light passed through the crevice in the door, falling on his face innocently. Harry took a few deep breaths and thought hard. The events happened last night played in his mind again. He tried to remember the dream, but the details of it were fading away pretty quickly. He gave up in the end, because it was too painful and hot to think.

... hot?

Harry blinked.

Other than pain, Harry felt like he was inside a furnace. He was sweating heavily and his mouth was very dry. His oversized underwear and shirt stuck to his skin uncomfortably. Without warning, a chill ran through his body, wiping out the sensation of the heat that was there a moment before. Harry shivered uncontrollably. He curled up in his bed in response, but it didn't help either. Also feeling a bit light-headed, he touched his palm gingerly to his forehead.

It felt like it was burning.

Harry blinked again. It took a moment for him to realize that he was running a high fever. Something was tickling his throat; he coughed with difficulty, jerking in pain with the unrestrained movement. Suddenly he heard some squeaking noises, which sounded like something heavy was being dragged along the wooden floor. The squeak became more distant, followed by some people's conversation. Harry could faintly make out what the people were talking about, yet he could not recognize the voices.

"Err... Vernon, do you think it's wise to do this?" a woman asked.

"What?" a man snapped.

"I'm afraid that his godfather would be after our blood. You know, those freakish people don't have a reasonable mind."

"That's why I've put bars in every window of our house! Those freaks cannot contact him then."

"I don't think it would work."

"Fine! Suggest a better solution."

Silence.

"No suggestion? Good. Then follow the original plan and burn all his school things. I don't want any of these things under our roof!"

A small trace of panic arose at the back of Harry's head. No you can't. Don't burn my things! He kept thinking desperately. Before he knew what he was doing, he bolted upright and tried to get out of bed. He regretted doing this immediately. He could hardly stand and fell backward. He cried out in surprise but all that came out from his mouth was only a feeble whimper. He landed painfully on the floor, with his head hitting the headboard first. Harry became quite giddy at once. He could see stars flying around his head. As he tried to get up his limbs felt like thousand ton of lead weights. Harry sighed in frustration, all he could do were to lie on the floor and listen to the unpleasant conversation. He heard something was being kicked open. He tensed and caught his breath. Somebody spoke again.

"What the hell are these things? Ouch! It bit me! Petunia! Get this book away from me!"

"I can't! We'd better not touch his belongings!" The voice was shaking slightly.

A chink followed, which sounded like something was being thudded violently onto the ground.

"That son of a bitch! I won't tolerate him anymore!"

"Vernon, I think we should take the boy to see a doctor."

"WE WHAT?"

"He has been out for nearly a week! He looks like a half-dead. God knows whether he would be able to make it!"

"I won't pay any money on that freak!"

"I don't want a corpse inside my house either!"

Silence.

"I repeat, I WON'T pay any coin on him," the voice was filled with hatred and hesitance this time. "You heard me."

A bang rang in the air, followed by a woman's shriek. Some people were shouting, or may be arguing in the living room. Harry did not know what was happening. He was confused, and his surroundings swam before his eyes, making him feel extremely nauseated and dizzy. He let his eyelids droop, so that all he could see was a sea of black. He was losing this sensation gradually, but he didn't care. It was nice to not feeling anything for once.

No heat. No pain. No light.

A crash.

Someone was yelling.

Someone was shaking him hard... or was he dreaming? He didn't know. If someone touched him, he would certainly have groaned in pain. He felt numb, but he was still aware that he was being rocked back and forth. This only made the dizzy feeling get worse. Don't. Harry thought. He didn't want to be disturbed. The feeling of swaying slowly diminished into nothing, and he let himself drift off into a world of merciful unconsciousness.

* * *

People were moving and laughing merrily on the opposite bank. Harry could barely make out the blurry figures. He didn't exactly have his glasses with him. Harry looked up and saw the sun shining its warm luscious light upon him. The river in front of him was sparkling innocently, Harry mused. He had never been to this place before. He felt strangely calm and safe here. The flowers and the grass waved rhythmically in the breeze. A bird flew towards Harry and landed on his shoulder. He snapped out of his thoughts at once. Something on the opposite bank caught his attention. Two figures were standing unmoving on the bank, apparently staring at him. Harry squinted his eyes as he stared back at the two fuzzy figures. He noticed that one person had deep red hair and the other one had raven black hair. They looked oddly familiar... Harry was sure that he had met them before. A thought struck him and his heart nearly burst with joy.

"Mom... Dad?" he whispered. He had never thought that he could meet his parents again. The two figures were obviously not shadows. Harry took a step forward, barely restraining himself from falling into the water. He looked up again and saw the blurry figures backing away, ready to leave.

"Wait! Don't go away!" Harry cried desperately. He looked around wildly, hoping to find a way to reach his parents. He had so many things to talk to them. He closed his eyes, fighting back the tears. He wanted desperately to go to the opposite bank.

The bird that perched on Harry's shoulder took off. Its feathers glittered under the gentle sunlight. It started to glow as it flew across the river. The bird was first surrounded by golden light, followed by numerous sparks the colors of rainbow. The different colors of light mixed together and burst a dazzling white light. Harry raised his hand to shield his eyes- it almost blinded him. Then just as suddenly, the light faded. Harry lowered his hand and opened his left eye cautiously. What he saw made him gasp in wonder.

In front of him was a beautiful crystal bridge that crossed over the river. Harry swallowed hard in shock. The bridge looked really delicate. He put his foot on the sparkling bridge in mild hesitation. It did not crack, or even shake. He took a deep breath and began to walk towards his parents.

"Harry, go back. Don't come to us," one of the blurry figures said. The feminine voice was filled with love and extreme sadness.

"Mom, why?" Harry recognized the voice belonged to Lily. It was not the pain-filled screaming he heard when he was near a Dementor. Harry knew he had heard this soothing voice when he was a baby. He took another step forward involuntarily.

"You don't belong in here, Harry. Your friends need you. Listen to their calls," a familiar deep voice rang in the air. It was James.

Harry could not see why he did not belong in here. He was confused. Then he heard voices in his head.

"Harry! Please, wake up!"

"Don't let the Dursleys win, Harry, especially what they did to you!"

"Hold on Harry! We can't find another seeker better than you!"

"Come on! I know you can fight it off! Don't disappoint us, mate."

Harry ignored the voices. No one could stop him from reaching his parents. He covered his ears and made a dash for the opposite bank.

"NO!! Harry! Don't go! Come back... Please... Come back..." a man screamed in his mind. The voice was familiar.

"Sirius?" Harry skidded to a halt. Sirius' voice was desperate, like all hope was lost and he was suffering from great pain. Without a second thought, Harry looked over his shoulder to see if his Godfather was around him.

Instantly the beautiful crystal bridge below him dissolved. The water and the land merged together. The flowers and grass turned black. The blue sky shattered into pieces. Harry yelled in fright as he felt himself fell into a dark sea.

"It's ok Harry," Lily said as she wrapped her arms around her son. Harry stared up at his mother's brilliant green eyes. She was hovering above the water, with James beside her.

"We're proud of you, son. We'll always love you and protect you," James whispered into his son's ear. He also hugged his boy tightly before Lily and him were being dragged away by an invisible force.

Harry was reluctant to let go of his father and mother. However, he was being pulled deeper down the dark sea by a gentle tugging force. The force separated the family members further and further apart. Harry wanted to yell for his parents but he felt that he could not make a sound. He was drowning and he couldn't breathe. He moved his limbs frantically, struggling against the force. He gritted his teeth as he started to feel the familiar burning feeling in every part of his body.

"Go to where you belong, Harry," James said. Lily held his hand and echoed, "Take care of yourself, dear," Then they vanished with the blink of an eye.

Harry closed his eyes in defeat. He was sinking deeper and deeper in the ocean. He could feel his heart was beating loudly. His lungs were filled with icy water. The movement of his limbs was becoming erratic. Harry then found himself landing on something soft. Something warm was holding his hand. The touch was very comforting and it calmed Harry a bit.

Suddenly a wave of warmth washed over him. Harry could breathe much more easily now. The icy feeling in his lungs was gone. Harry inhaled deeply. He did not know why, but he was extremely exhausted. Harry had a feeling that he was not inside the 'dark ocean' anymore. He opened his eyes blearily.

Red and gold met his eyes. Harry heard a person beside him yelp in surprise. A face came into view, but it was continuously sliding in and out of focus.