Circle of Darkness

Circle of Darkness

By: Zorra Reed

Circle of Darkness -part 1

Harry quietly sang Happy Birthday to himself as the clock downstairs chimed, indicating that it was midnight, Harry´s birthday. It was traditional for Harry to stay up on his birthday, taking a few minutes to quietly celebrate. Potter was now fifteen years old and would soon start his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry sat up looking out the window; soon he saw a line of owls heading his way. The owls bore gifts from his friends along with his school list for the upcoming year. Harry put that one aside for later and started to unwrap the presents. Hermione sent a Muggle book, The Lord of the Rings. It was a thick book and the owl hooted in pleasure to be rid of it. Harry smirked at the owl´s dramatics and turned his attention to the book. He´d heard much about the story and was anxious to begin reading it.

Ron sent some chocolate frogs and a Quidditch magazine. Hagrid sent some hard cakes as always, while Sirius sent Harry a new dress rode of deep emerald green bordered with silver lining. Harry´s face lit up with a smile, as he briefly wondered why Sirius had picked out green when the Gryffindor colors were red? He had to admit it though; green looked so much better on him then the red. Taking great care, Harry packed his presents safely into his trunk, which Vernon had allowed to stay in his room, so long as he didn´t get into it (like that wasn´t going to happen). Harry´s smile turned into a yawn as he stretched, it would be the last time Harry smiled for the remainder of the summer...

~Crawling in my skin

These wounds, they will not heal

Fear is how I fall

Confusing what is real~

The banging of his bedroom door woke Harry the next morning. Sitting up, Harry slipped his glasses on and stared wide-eyed at a smiling Uncle Vernon. Confusion spread over Harry´s face, "Uncle Vernon?"

"Good morning Harry. Do you know what day this is?" Vernon asked cheerfully. Sweetness dripped like acid from his lips, putting Harry on high alert. Harry was used to waking to the sound of his name being screamed out in a demand to cook breakfast. Not by a happy uncle that couldn´t stand to look at him let alone talk civilly to him.

"Um," Harry was at a loss, if he said his birthday, Uncle Vernon was sure to hurt him. But Vernon, seemingly sensing Harry´s dilemma, saved him the trouble of having to answer.

"It´s your fifteenth birthday, Harry." Harry almost died from shock. Was he hearing right? Did his uncle truly just proclaimed his birthday? Vernon must have seen the wonderment on his nephews face, because he crossed the small room in three strides till he stood face to face with Harry. Vernon´s smile grew bigger as he peered down at the boy; the strange glint that entered his eyes gave Harry reason to worry. "Now hurry down stairs for breakfast. It´s going to be a birthday to remember," he said darkly, or so, that´s how Harry wanted to imagine it.

Harry starred after his Uncle as he left the room, closing the door gently behind him. Harry got up and dressed, then hurriedly brushed his teeth and hair. The Dursleys had never acknowledged his birthday before. Why start now? He couldn´t help but wonder what his uncle had in store for him. Perhaps he was finally going to be sent to an orphanage and the Dursleys wanted to celebrate. A sinking feeling was growing in the pit of his stomach, as he joined his relatives in the kitchen for the morning meal.

~There´s something inside me

That pulls beneath the surface

Consuming, Confusing~

I entered the kitchen to find Aunt Petunia and Dudley sitting at the table eating. It would appear that I didn´t have to make the breakfast this morning. I served myself a small plate of food and sat down to eat.

"Good morning Harry." Aunt Petunia greeted me with that scratchy voice of hers. I graced her with a small smile still apprehensive of this new change. Had Dumbledore put a spell on everyone to make them be nicer to me? No, that´s not Dumbledores´ style. Perhaps it was the twin´s. No, that wouldn´t work either. How would they do it without coming here? Oh well, I´ll just have to go with it.

"Morning Aunt Petunia," I replied for lack of anything better to say. There was no way I was going to get into a conversation with them.

"Did you sleep well dear?"

My mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Y..yes Ma´am," I stammered. What was going on? Even Dudley, though not talking to me, was smiling.

When I was finished eating, Vernon decided to make me jump out of my skin by placing an arm on my shoulder. I spun around in my chair, wondering how he´d appeared behind me without my noticing.

"I´ve got a present for you Harry. Now I want this to be the best birthday you´ve ever had, something to commemorate," he pleasantly stated.

"A present?" What was going on? They´ve never given me presents before.

`Wait!´ My mind screamed. `What did he mean by commemorate?´

Uncle Vernon pulled a leather whip from behind his back. "Came in the morning mail, courtesy of your Aunt Marge." I felt the color drain from my face as I slowly rose to my feet, gripping the back of the chair for support. Aunt Marge hated me even more then the Dursleys did. A whip was a little extreme even for my uncle. But considering his sister had sent it, I didn´t put it past him to use it. He hated to upset Marge; she was a pain in the ass to shut up once she got going. This, mixed with the added bonus that Vernon was given an excuse to pond on me for his sick enjoyment was more then enough reason to use it.

"It´s a lovely toy to have around" Vernon continued unaware of my stray thoughts, "hurts like hell too. Marge felt this would teach you to obey. Shall we start?"

~This lack of self-control

I fear is never ending

Controlling~

I knew better than to answer. It didn´t mater what I thought anyways, he was going to rip me apart one way or the other. I may as well take it like a man. If I ran away it´d only be worse. The first blow came down across my chest and shoulder. I was wrong; it was going to hurt just as bad either way. I almost preferred Uncle Vernon beat me with his hands instead.

"May I try it Father?" cried Dudley jumping up from his seat, scattering his food on the floor.

"Certainly," boasted Vernon pleased by his sons´ enthusiasm.

~I can´t seem to find myself again

My walls are closing in~

My gaze shifted from one to the other, terror creeping into my soul. It wasn´t fair, after everything I went through last year. I was just getting over Cedrics´ death, not to mention that I´ll have to deal with Voldemort again once school starts. Why couldn´t the Dursleys just leave me alone? There was only a month left before I could return to school. I had to leave now. I wasn´t prepared to face this yet. As a last effort to get away, I dashed past Uncle Vernon towards the front door.

"Oh no, you don´t!" Vernon grabbed my shirt, yanking me back.

"NO," I screamed. "Someone help me!" I hoped that one of the neighbors would hear and come help me, but they didn´t. No one ever came to my aid when I was here. I felt the whip crack on my back, cutting through the fabric to bite into the flesh below. He would beat me into submission before the hour was out. I bit back a scream.

Uncle Vernon whipped me a few more times, making sure that I wasn´t going to get up and run, before he handed the whip to his son. "Now, pay attention Dudley. This is how you crack the whip." He moved his sons´ arm in demonstration, "Got it?"

"Sure. Looks easy enough," said Dudley. It didn´t take him long before he was able to work the whip properly, ensuring it´d do the most damage possible.

I glanced up, tears in my eyes. Dudley stared down at me for a moment, his eyes filled with glee. To him this was just a game; he had no concern for my feelings or me. Just so long as he could have his fun and impress his dad. `Even Draco isn´t as heartless as you,´ I thought bitterly. I looked away and closed my eyes just as Dudley swung the whip. I felt a sharp pain on my cheek followed by warm blood. This time I couldn´t suppress my cries.

~ Without a sense of confidence

I´m convinced that there´s just too much pressure to take

I´ve felt this way before, so insecure~

Liquid fire raced through my veins, melting me from the inside out. My head spun with the slightest movement causing my vision to blacken. If only the sweet darkness of oblivion would take me. Embrace me in her arms so I wouldn´t be aware of the world around me, of my family, of their seeping hatred.

Was it not enough that I was tortured at school and sentenced to live up to everyone else´s standers and expectations? Was it not enough that I did chores non-stop and slept in a cupboard full of spiders most of my life? What was it that made life so hard and refused to allow me to be ME? Harry. Not the famous boy-who-lived. Not the savor of the wizarding world. No, just myself, just Harry.

There was no answer. I didn´t expect one. There was no going back to change the past nor much of a future to look forward to. All I had was the present and it was a nightmare, terrifying to be exact. I was surrounded by anger all the time. There was no peace of mind, there was no place I could go and relax or take a break. I wasn´t able to sit and sort out my thoughts and feelings. My world had turned into an existence of pain and only pain. I didn´t deserve anything else.

Over the next week I was whipped, beaten, yelled at, and rejected. Most of the time I was locked in my room or doing chores with little or no food. Late one night, I wrote a quick letter to Ron asking him to pick up my stuff for me in Diagon Alley, along with some bird food and broom polish. I told him the vault number for my money and gave Hedwig the note and key. Ron would be taking care of her for the rest of the summer. When everything was secure, I opened the window and let my owl, my only present friend, fly away into the night.

Morning found me in a bad mood and restless. It was a beautiful day out and I had the urge to go outside and play. The part of me that was still a boy wanted to do things that other boys did. But I knew it was a hopeless wish. I wasn´t allowed to be a child; I had been forced to grow up a long time ago.

My door swung open, startling me. Dudley stood framing the doorway. "What do you want," I snapped.

"Hurry up and get ready. Mum said we could go to the park and play until lunch." Dudley smiled enthusiastically and bounded out on his heals.

`Wish granted,´ I thought bitterly. Now that was odd. Ignoring the voice in my head I indulged the childish part of me and got up. Maybe Dudley would leave me alone and I could enjoy myself for once. A harsh laugh escaped my throat- yeah keep dreaming.

~Crawling in my skin

These wounds, they will not heal

Fear is how I fall

Confusing what is real~