Point Made

Silence

How much pain do you have to go through until giving up is okay?

Harry Potter sits on his windowsill as he waits for Vernon to come 'home'. It's not the first time Harry has done this since he returned home for the summer. Not touching a single chore on his list and just waiting.

Harry Potter liked waiting.

He enjoyed the silence that came when he sat on the windowsill, one leg hanging outside and the other inside as he breathed. The air outside was nice. Their neighborhood was clean and didn't reek of garbage like some of the neighborhoods he passed as a child.

Harry clearly remembered the garbage bags stacked by the road and the homes that rotted and crept towards unlivable. He also remembered how happy the families he passed had been. Children who played in the yard and hugged their parents. Parents who hugged their children back.

A door slammed downstairs and Harry looked out the window. Vernon had pulled up. As the man pulled himself out of the car he looked at the wilting flowers and then up at Harry's windows. His face was red. Not newly red, but a deep one that came with time. Vernon was clearly angry long before the flowers.

It didn't hurt Harry as much as it used to when Vernon passed his anger to him. Sometimes he even welcomed the punishments. Today was one of those days. A day when he could barely think beyond the thoughts in his head.

Petunia's voice that called him worthless.  Vernon's that called him trash. And the new addition to the sick family in his head. Sirius. Harry knew Sirius hadn't meant for what he said to hurt. It was a reprimand, but it still sat with him. Eating at him. The day he had a vision. It was so real he dropped everything. Hermione and Ron had followed behind blindly as he tried to figure out what to do. It was Ron who remembered. The classic strategist.

"Before we do anything stupid Harry, let's try to call him. On that mirror you got."

"Call him? Voldemort has him! We don't have the time Ron!"

"Just give him the mirror Harry." Hermione sighed. "What if Voldemort wanted you to see this?"

"Fine."

Sirius answered within the first minute. He was frazzled, his hair a mess. "What's wrong?"

"Harry had a vision," Ron said.

"Vision? What's going on? Are you guys okay?"

Hermione shoved her head in front of Ron, smiling politely at Sirius. "Harry had a vision Voldemort had kidnapped you. In the middle of the celebration."

"Harry," Sirius had sighed. "Please tell me you thought this through. That you weren't going to run off like always."

He hadn't answered and Sirius repeated himself. Harry could only nod. His head hurt and his eyes stung as he remembered. Sirius's screams that sounded so real ringing in his ears. His voice through the mirror was calm, not in pain.

"You two should leave before the teachers notice you're gone. I need to speak with Harry a little longer." Sirius said.

He waited for the two of them to leave the room before speaking again. Only looking at Harry through the mirror, studying him.

"You can never do that again, do you understand me? That kind of foolishness can get you and your friends killed. Harry?" He sighed and Harry flinched. "I need you to answer me. You need to understand what this means. Voldemort knows about the connection. He will use it to gain information and spread false information. You can't take these visions seriously anymore."

"I understand Sirius."

"Good. If this ever happens again, you contact an adult and wait."

"Sirius, no one listens to me." It was true. No one listened to him. Dumbledore didn't care what happened to Harry as long as he fought Voldemort. Otherwise he would have listened about the Dursleys.