Stained

Stained

Harry Potter stormed outside of number four, Privet Drive, frustration bristling through him like a cat whose tail was pulled one time to many.

The Dursley's had accused him of breaking the china vase when it had been quite clear that it was Dudley who had bumped the coffee table it was on. But no, the Dursley's beloved son would never be that clumsy. Harry just happened to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Despite Harry's arguments, Uncle Vernon had punished him, though Harry had no idea what that punishment was, and frankly, he didn't give a damn. Harry had stormed out of the house before Uncle Vernon could finish his sentence. Now his uncle was standing purple faced in the open doorway, hissing and spitting everywhere.

"Come back here boy! Don't make me come out and get you!"

Although this was all said at minimal volume, so not to be overheard by the neighbors, Harry distinctively saw curtains flutter by their windows. They were all a bunch of ignorant gossipers who had no lives anyway. They can all go to hell, Harry thought as he continued down Privet Drive.

He gave a quick glance behind his shoulder to see that Uncle Vernon was retreating into the house, his face that familiar shade of puce. Now I can get a fricken breather, and maybe actually think. Wait, scratch that last part.

Thinking had become a great burden to Harry over the past few months, and he usually tried to avoid it by listening to music, reading, doing his homework, or doing the endless chores he was given for being so reckless. The reason why this was, was because his thoughts always lead at some point or another to three horrible weights that hung from Harry's heart, weighing him down with every step he made. One being the War, two being the prophecy, and the last ... being Sirius Black.

Without even realizing it, Harry had made his way to the broken park he visited frequently, for no one ever went there anymore after all the damage Dudley and his gang had done. There was a nice little spot in the jungle gym that was a small tunnel that kept out the cold and the disapproving stares of by passers.

That major death was like a heavy lead fist, pounding with every heartbeat. A cold hole, eating away at him till there was nothing left but a raw scar of pain, defeat, loss, and other feelings Harry wasn't even sure that could be put into words. Sirius had been the only thing he'd ever had even close to a father. To have lost James and Sirius made him lose hope of ever finding that person that could fill that empty void, just as Sirius had done ...

And then, Harry cried. Hot tears of grief spilling down his cold cheeks. He punched furiously at the plastic walls that made up the tunnel. It hurt his knuckles, but it was a fresher and sharper pain, briefly taking some of that thick dull pain that clutched his chest. Very briefly.

Soon Harry started to get claustrophobic, so he scrambled out of the tunnel and jumped onto the sand. But his legs were too weak, and his knees gave out from under him. His knees were bruised and dirty, and grains of sand imprinted themselves into his hands. But Harry didn't bother brushing himself off. He wiped his face on his arm and sat there, trying to collect himself, willing himself to think of something else. Anything else, he thought desperately, please ...

The small pitter-patter of rain brought back his attention, and he looked up slightly. Harry loved the rain. It was so clean and cool, washing away the dirt of the hot dry days, replenishing flowers with strength and beauty. But not even the glorious rain could wash away the impurity inside Harry. The dark evil that lurked inside that made him a possible danger to those he loved and cared for, and all this was the work of one man ... Voldemort. Harry couldn't imagine why someone would want to cause so much pain, to so many people, without the slightest wince. And now Harry had part of that in him. He new he did, he could feel it throbbing at the dark corner of his mind, day after day, reminding him that he was dangerous, that he wasn't the same as everyone else. It waited for him to close his eyes at night, then devoured Harry's subconscious mind with nightmares and rancid thoughts that left him dizzy and tear streaked, screaming soundlessly. He would give anything to drea m about Quidditch again and even have nightmares of unfinished Potions assignments. He would give anything just to be with Ron and Hermione. At least with them things seemed more normal, safer. He would give anything ... anything just to be free from his stained mind ...

~Fin~