A Darker Dream

A Darker Dream

Chapter One:
The Beating

June 31. School had been out for a little while, but Harry Potter was in hell. Vernon Dursley had lost his job at Grunnings and blamed it all on Harry's "freakish powers." Since then he had made it a daily ritual to beat Harry along with Dudley's help. The beatings where usually severe and left him hardly able to get his long list of chores down, resulting in no food for the day.

At this very moment, Harry should have been painting the garden shed, stead he was leaning against it, cradling his left arm, broken by a beating earlier in the day with Vernon in a hang over.

Harry knew he should get help, tell someone from the school, but he didn't trust them anymore. Not after Sirius's death. It was Dumbledore's fault that he was gone. Dumbledore didn't tell him why he needed to take Occlumency. He wasn't told about the prophecy that caused his parents to be killed and marked him as Voldemort's equal. The old man wouldn't even look at him, he was so frightened.

"The man is scared of me," Harry said to himself, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Boy, get in here!!" Petunia Dursley shrieked from the kitchen window.

"Coming, Aunt Petunia," Harry said glumly, walking towards the house.

Harry knew never to disobey them anymore for the beatings would be even more terrible then they already where. So he was always fast to respond anymore.

"Cook your uncle's dinner and don't you dare burn it," Petunia hissed, swinging a skillet at him as he walked into the kitchen.

Harry's yell in pain echoed of the kitchen walls as he fell to his knees, feeling where the gash appeared as blood trickled down his face.

"What's all the noise?" Vernon Dursley asked, walking into the kitchen with a slight wobble and his eyes glassed over.

Jesus, he's drunk, Harry thought. His mind raced in fear as his uncle looked around the room.

"You," Vernon spat coldly, spotting Harry on the floor.

"What are you trying to do, boy? Alert the neighbors?" Vernon asked, kicking Harry in the stomach knocking him into the oven.

"No, Uncle Vernon," Harry sputtered, coughing blood onto Vernon's shoes.

"Now look what you did. You're going to wish you were never born," Vernon growled, grabbing Harry by the hair and slammed him into the marble counters, causing another gash.

To late, Vernon. I already do, Harry thought as the hits came.

"We clothed you, feed you, put a roof over your head and this is how you repay us?" Vernon asked, as he kicked his nephew in the ribs fracturing two of them.

"I'm sick of you, Potter. You take full advantage of our generosity. I'm through with you," Vernon said, walking out leaving Harry lying on the ground bleeding.

That was the worst one ever. It would have made Voldemort proud, Harry thought as he lay there, unable to move.

"You're finished," Vernon said, walking back in with a hunting rifle.

Oh my god, Harry thought in terror.

"Dudley, come here!" Vernon shouted.

"You shoot him. Right there between the eyes." Vernon said, putting the rifle in Dudley's hands.

"Why not shoot him in the stomach. He'll suffer longer." Dudley said, looking at his father with eyes full of pride.

"Excellent idea, Dudley. Go ahead now, shoot him." Vernon said, pointing to his son's target.

Harry knew there would be no escaping, especially when Vernon corrected Dudley's aim and his finger squeezed the trigger slowly.

BANG!!! The bullet went flying out of the gun and hit Harry in the stomach. Time seemed to slow for him as a warm feeling came over him while watching his family's faces turn from happiness to horror and a white light swallowed him and he disappeared leaving only a pool of blood in his place.