Broken, But in Love.

Harry's Holidays

Author's Note: I would like to warn all of you that there are pieces of Depression, anxiety & Anxiety attacks, abuse, mentions of suicide and Self Harm. I will update this if there are any more... Err... Triggering things in this story. As well as that warning, let's all raise our wands to everyone who died in the books/movies of Harry Potter. But if you do come across anything triggering just scroll down until you can tell if it's safe. And everything else is essential to read if you want to understand how the story goes.

Harry's depression started back in his 2nd year, he really felt like a freak because he could speak Parseltongue and even worse, the darkest evilest wizard could do too. The students at Hogwarts use to ignore him and whisper cruel things about him, they still do but mostly the Slytherins. But Harry could ignore his depression that year, all he really needed were his two best friends that didn't care what flaws he had because they accepted him for it. He was grateful for them.

The Dursleys were much meaner than they were in Harry's third year. Abusing was all they did to him, whether it was something little or big that he did. Petunia was verbally abusive, Vernon both verbally and physically abused him, and Dudley just beat him up for fun because he could. Harry became more and more angry and skittish because every year, the punishments and abuse would escalate when the Dursley's thought he became more 'freakish.'

Throughout summer holidays before Harry's 4th year, Harry had been feeling more depressed than ever. And oh, how he hated the Dursley's guts so much. Aunt Petunia always woke him up at 6 am in the morning, gave him chores that took until midnight to complete, and had to cook food for three people in the morning, and sometimes at dinner time. It was really annoying and exhausting. Not to mention the slaps he's been retrieving from Aunt Petunia but he's managed to duck and block them since he was six.

It was one early morning; Harry was up at 4 watching the bright yellow ball rise over the land in the distance. He could never get enough sleep.

"Harry!" Aunt Petunia screeched, followed by her bony knuckles tapping against the door. "Get down here and start making breakfast!"

Harry groaned from under the blankets. It's too early for this! He thought as he got up and looked around for some clean clothes.

"Are you awake, boy?" Aunt Petunia screeched again. She banged the door with her broomstick. The noise was so loud and annoying, Harry couldn't go back to sleep even if he tried. With a spark of annoyance, Harry ran his hands through his messy hair and put on his glasses.

"Potter!"

"I'm awake!" Harry shouted with an eye roll. Oh, how he wished he could just be dead sometimes, so he doesn't have to do these chores or even live life. He'd rather be at Hogwarts, but even so, he would still have to complete all his work and study for little exams.

Aunt Petunia opened the door and wrinkled her nose at the mess called Harry's room. "Come down and start breakfast before your uncle wakes up, unless you want a morning punishment from him," she ordered. She was about to turn around and close the door when she added, "and clean this room after your chores today!" She gave her nephew a disapproving glare as she shut the door and left.

It was another summer day of cooking and cleaning; however, Harry did not mind as much because chores meant that he was busy and being busy kept his depression away for a few precious moments. Harry was starting breakfast when his aunt came in and started cleaning the countertops and the table. It was her pre-breakfast scrub down while Harry cooked. It was a routine that happened every morning since the summer started. A routine they followed in silence as Aunt Petunia ignored Harry, only speaking to him if she caught him cooking something the wrong way.