Another Dursley

New Freedom

I woke up the next morning early with puffy eyes and extremely tired, I got up and walked into the bathroom with my bag, and for the first time I saw myself.

My eyes were extremely red I'm guessing with how much I was crying, and they were badly bruised, I had dry blood all over my face, how did Harry not see it?

My lip was busted and I had a scratch below it from my father's watch, my neck had hand size  bruises forming, I pulled off the dress and stepped back alarmed at the forming bruises on my legs, arms and stomach.

My legs were bad, the bruise was so big from his shoes, my shaking hands touched my side where it was bruised from the kicking, and I sniffled as I noticed the hand marks on my arms from all the times he grabbed me, I swallowed back a sob as I looked at myself.

There was no way I could really hide this.

I took a long shower, I spent most of it crying my eyes out scrubbing my body trying to get rid of the bruises but I think it made them worst. I sat there in the bath staring up at the ceiling tears streaming down my face, I couldn't process the events that has happened.
I didn't know what to feel, what to do, what to say, i just was shocked.

I hugged my aching legs as a heart wrenching sob escaped me, I just wanted to turn back time to the days when my father would hug me and kiss my cheeks, not bruise them and made me tremble with fear.

I sniffled as I watched the dry blood from the scratches on my stomach disappear, I wanted to disappear.

I sighed and got up groaning in pain at the jolting ache that waved through my body, I finished my shower and stepped out, I used cream all over my body and I grabbed my makeup maybe I could cover it.

I tried my best and it wasn't bad, I couldn't hide much from my eyes, though with the eye makeup it wasn't so noticeable, but my bruised cheek and neck were barely visible, i used a lipstick to try and cover my busted lip, and I pulled on some tights to hide my legs and I pulled on a long sleeved green dress and finally my heeled boots that Hermione got for me last Christmas.

I put on the earrings Draco got me both of my necklaces, and my ring,  I brushed my hair throughly.

I observed myself slowly to reassure I looked good, and I looked decent but sick and tired.

A knock at the door made me jump and I stuffed everything in my bag taking it with me as I opened the bathroom door, it was coming from the front door, I rushed up as they knocked again,"House keeping."

"No thank you we're good."I said through the closed door and I heard the lady sigh and walk away.

I turned to see a sleepy Harry getting up from the bed,"Morning sleepy head."

He smiled slightly coming over for a hug but I pushed him away,"No, go- shower."

He rolled his eyes but did as I said, I sighed and went to his trunk, looking for my wand, I found it sitting beside his books. I put it in a hidden pocket in my dress

It took us several days to get used to our strange new freedom. Never before had we been able to get up whenever we wanted or eat whatever we fancied. We could even go wherever we pleased, as long as it was in Diagon Alley, and as this long cobbled street was packed with the most fascinating wizarding shops in the world, Harry felt no desire to break his word to Fudge and stray back into the Muggle world, although I did at one point.

Harry and I ate breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron, where we talked about what fudge said to him, and we liked watching the other guests: funny little witches from the country, up for a day's shopping; venerable-looking wizards arguing over the latest article in Transfiguration Today; wild-looking warlocks; raucous dwarfs; and once, what looked suspiciously like a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a thick woolen balaclava.

After breakfast we would go out into the backyard, with our wands we would tap the third brick from the left above the trash bin, and stand back as the archway into Diagon Alley opened in the wall.

I spent the long sunny days exploring the shops and eating under the brightly colored umbrellas outside cafes, where the fellow diners were showing one another their purchases ("It's a lunascope, old boy -- no more messing around with moon charts, see?") or else discussing the case of Sirius Black ("Personally, I won't let any of the children out alone until he's back in Azkaban"). We didn't have to do our homework under the blankets by flashlight anymore; now we could sit in the bright sunshine outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, finishing all of our essays with occasional help from Florean Fortescue himself, who, apart from knowing a great deal about medieval witch burnings, gave us free sundaes every half an hour.

Once Harry had refilled his money bag with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts from his vault at Gringotts, and I took out my student loan, we had to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend the whole lot at once. I had to keep reminding himself that we had five years to go at Hogwarts, and how it would feel to ask my parents for money for spellbooks, to stop him from buying a handsome set of solid gold Gobstones, which I already had back at Hogwarts. He was sorely tempted, too, by the perfect, moving model of the galaxy in a large glass ball, which he think means he never had to take another Astronomy lesson. But the thing that tested Harry's resolution most appeared in his favorite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, a week after he'd arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.

Curious to know what the crowd in the shop was staring at, Harry and I edged our way inside and squeezed in among the excited witches and wizards until i glimpsed a newly erected podium, on which was mounted the most magnificent broom i had ever seen.

"Just came out -- prototype --" a square-jawed wizard was telling his companion.

"It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" squeaked a boy younger than me, who was swinging off his father's arm.

"Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd. "And they're favorites for the World Cup!"

A large witch in front of us moved, and I was able to read the sign next to the broom:

** THE FIREBOLT **
THIS STATE-OF-THE-ART RACING BROOM SPORTS A STREAM-LINED, SUPERFINE HANDLE OF ASH, TREATED WITH A DIAMOND-HARD POLISH AND HAND-NUMBERED WITH ITS OWN REGISTRATION NUMBER. EACH INDIVIDUALLY SELECTED BIRCH TWIG IN THE BROOMTAIL HAS BEEN HONED TO AERODYNAMIC PERFECTION, GIVING THE FIREBOLT UNSURPASSABLE BALANCE AND PINPOINT PRECISION. THE FIREBOLT HAS AN ACCELERATION OF 150 MILES AN HOUR IN TEN SECONDS AND INCORPORATES AN UNBREAKABLE BRAKING CHARM. PRICE ON REQUEST.

Price on request...I didn't want to think how much gold the Firebolt would cost. Wonder if Draco's got one.
I looked at harry, he had never wanted anything as much in his whole life -- he was tempted but I reminded him he had never lost a Quidditch match on his Nimbus Two Thousand, and what was the point in emptying his Gringotts vault for the Firebolt, when he had a very good broom already?
Harry didn't ask for the price, but he returned, almost every day after that, just to look at the Firebolt.

There were, however, things that we needed to buy. We went to the Apothecary to replenish our stor of potions ingredients, and as our school robes were now several inches too short in the arm and leg, well for him mine were still a good size, he visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and bought new ones. Most important of all, we had to buy our new schoolbooks, which would include those for our two new subjects, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, and for me ancient runes.

I ended up skipping out on buying the books to take a nap though.

I was in the midst of falling asleep when the door opened signaling hat harry had returned from the book shop, making sure not to make much noise he set the books down.

"It can't have been a death omen,"I heard him whisper to himself, "I was panicking when I saw that thing in Magnolia Crescent...It was probably just a stray dog...."

He raised his hand automatically and tried to make his hair lie flat

"You're fighting a losing battle there, dear," the mirror said in a wheezy voice, it wasn't wrong.