Will it ever get better? (A Harry Potter story)

It's just life

Obviously I don't own Harry Potter (unfortunately) all rights and credit goes to the one and only Jk.Rowling. Hope you enjoy :)

Harry could barely move, his back was covered in lashes and welts. Fresh blood oozing over old scars. He let a small whimper escape him and clasped his tiny hands over his mouth, eyes wide in terror. What if uncle Vernon had heard? The small boy held his breath, listening intently... Phew nobody was coming. Harry exhaled and tried to shift his aching body into a more comfortable position and had to refrain from crying out in pain. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall but Harry kept them at bay. He knew better than to cry after a beating. If uncle Vernon found out he had cried the next one would be ten times worse.

2 days Harry was forced to stay in his cupboard after that, with no food or water. When finally the cupboard door opened, Aunt Petunia placed a cup of water down, next to a plate of bread and chucked a change of clothes to harry, instructing him to get changed, eat quickly and set to work in the garden immediately. Harry didn't dare move until his aunt had closed the door behind her, he then scurried to the food and water, ignoring the pain in his back and devoured it within minutes. God it felt good to eat. Slowly he pulled off his blood stained shirt and trousers and pulled on the freshly washed set. Carefully using his blood ridden clothes to attempt to mop up his own urine off the floor. With a heavy heart he made his way to the garden to start his work.

Harry didn't need to ask what to do, he had tended to the garden many times before, each as gruelling as the last. After he finished with the garden, hands chapped and sore, he went to wash his hands before starting the Dursleys dinner. He dragged his stool across the kitchen so he could reach the counters and shelves. He was determined not to mess up. He had to be good, he knew he couldn't face another beating tonight.

"You better not burn this boy" uncle Vernon growled, grabbing Harry's hair, pulling his head back so their faces were inches apart. " or i swear to God it'll be the last food you ever see". In his shock, harry had jumped and sliced into his finger with the knife he was using to chop The onions with.

"Do you understand me boy?!" Vernon spat, shaking Harry's head.

"Yes uncle Vernon, of course uncle Vernon!" Harry chimed, wincing from the pain in his finger and head. Uncle Vernon released him with one last shove, causing Harry to topple of the stool.

Harry jumped back up, scrambling to get back on his stool so he could continue chopping, without realising blood was dripping from his finger. Uncle Vernons eyes flashed dangerously and Harry's eyes grew wide in terror as he realised.

"Please uncle Vernon, I'm sorry! Please, I'm so sorry, I'll clean it, just don't hurt me! Please I'm so sorry" Harry begged as his uncle grabbed him by his hair once more.

"HOW DARE YOU GET YOUR FILTHY BLOOD ON MY FLOOR?! Vernon roared, spit flying everywhere. He raised his large stubby hand and swung it down full force onto Harry's already whipped backside. Excruciating pain hit harry as he cried out. Uncle Vernon ignored the tears coming from his seven year old nephew and forced his small shaking hands under scolding water to rinse away the blood, before forcing him to continue to cook the dinner. Harry finished cooking and served the meal without another word before standing in his usual corner to watch his family eat. His mouth watered as he stared longingly at the food. He wished he was allowed to look away. Finally Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley had all finished and Dudley ran off to his room to play with his new computer again, kicking harry in the shins on his way out. Harry got started on cleaning the dishes and when he had eventually finished, his Aunt allowed him to have a sandwich. He savoured the flavour, not knowing when he would be able to eat again.

When Harry returned to his cupboard that evening, he sighed in relief that he had escaped any other punishments that day and rubbed his stomach, thankfull for the sandwich. The Dursleys had been kind today and he knew he didn't deserve it, freaks didnt deserve anything. Harry never stopped to think his treatment was unfair, it was easier not to think about it- after all to Harry, its just life.