Blood on His Fingertips
Chapter One: Surprised Potter?
". . . . Harry . . . . "
'Leave me alone'
". . . Potter . . . "
Harry Potter abruptly sat up. He could hear his uncle Vernon descending down the stairs, coming to his cupboard. He sat up and readied himself for what he knew was coming. Sure enough, his uncle unlocked the many locks on the cupboard, threw opened the door, seething, and grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt.
"First, you wake us up at an insane hour at night with your screams, and now you decide to catch up on your beauty sleep instead of doing your chores? I refuse to let you do that in my house!" said Vernon as he viciously backhanded Harry. "Now, come and make us breakfast."
As Vernon closed the door, (but didn't lock it, as Harry was expected to do his chores), Harry put his hand to the back of his head, felt something wet. He drew his hand back and saw with the light coming from the small cracks in the cupboard door, blood on his fingertips. He blinked, and suddenly he saw more blood gushing from the tips of his fingers, running down his hands and arms. Harry felt sick.
' Where is all this blood coming from?'
He didn't have to wait long for an answer. An instant later, shadowy figures slowly, one by one, became visible. It took a while for Harry to figure out who they where.
The first one who showed up pointed accusingly at Harry. "You killed me, Potter, you killed US!" yelled the voice of Cedric Diggory. "If you were as brave as people made you out to be, you would have saved me. You could have stopped the curse if you wanted to. Maybe you were scared, or just plain lazy. Deep down, though, I think that you just wanted me dead."
"No, that's not true," whispered a shaking Harry.
Cedric ignored Harry and continued. "You just wanted me out of the way. You wanted all the fame, and I was stealing it. You knew that the trophy was a Portkey, didn't you?" No, I didn't. How could I have known? How would I-" "Stop with your excuses Potter, it's embarrassing," said the new, familiar voice. Harry turned and let out a startled cry as he saw his godfather appear.
"Surprised potter?" Harry's stomach lurched. Never before had Sirius called him potter. It was always Harry, or kiddo, but not potter. He almost sounded like a Malfoy. "What's wrong potter? Scared to face your past? Well, you can't run away from us. First, you killed your parents, then Diggory, and then ME! All I did was love you potter, and how do you repay me? You killed me!"
By this time tears were flowing down Harry's cheeks. "That's not –"
"Shut up potter. I'm sick of your excuses. If you weren't so weak, you wouldn't need any excuses, and you would have family and friends who actually care about you. But now you don't. The only people who cared about you are dead. The people in your life right now are either scared of you, or they pity you. You can't let them get close to you Harry." "I can't let them get close . . . " Harry repeated mechanically, tears still going down his face.
"That's right Harry, "Sirius continued, "because if you let them get close, you'll kill them. Just like you killed us."
"No, I didn't, I –"
"So what are you saying potter? Are you denying that you killed us? Are you going to blame it on Voldemort?" Sirius asked as he moved closer to Harry. Harry stayed silent. "Or are you going to blame it on us?"
Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't want to blame Voldemort, because that would be another excuse, and he knew it wasn't their fault that they were dead. So the only logical explanation would be that Harry HAD killed them. But he had been told over and over that it wasn't his fault. Harry was just so confused, that he stayed in a stunned silence.
After a minute Sirius began to laugh, but not his usual laugh. He sounded different, cruel. "Can you believe this James?" Sirius asked between laughs. "he actually thinks it's OUR fault!"
Sure enough, when he looked up, he saw both of his parents looking at him in an angry scowl. "Don't rub it in Padfoot. I'm ashamed enough to call him my son," Said James.
"How dare you!" lily exclaimed, shaking with fury. "We DIED because of you, and you went and killed not only a school friend, but a member of this family. You are no longer a member of this family!"
"You're a disgrace to the name potter!" James said.
"We tried to help you, and you killed us," said Cedric.
"You're a weak coward and a murderer!" hissed Sirius, pointing at Harry again.
They all pointed at Harry accusingly, and started walking towards him, trapping him in the corner of the cupboard. The towered over him, pointing and chanting "murderer, murderer..."
"No, it's not true!" yelled Harry, closing his eyes and putting his hands over is ears, trying to tune them out, but failing miserably.
"Murderer, murderer . . . . "
"Murderer, murderer . . ."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"
"Murderer, murderer. . . ."
"Leave me ALONE!"
Harry felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He reluctantly opened his eyes, and felt relief fill him as he saw it was only his uncle, immediately followed by dread.
"Boy, I told you ten minutes ago to come and make us breakfast. Now we have to go out somewhere. So do you know what I'm going to do?" Harry shook his head, though he already had a pretty good idea of what his uncle was going to do. "I'm going to make you pay for it."
Vernon kicked Harry's side, making him double over in pain. "That," said Vernon, "was for not making our breakfast."
"This, "he said, his knee hitting Harry on the chin, "is for being lazy."
"This is for coming into our lives at all," Vernon said as he slammed Harry's head against the floor.
This continued for what felt like hours to Harry. But when his uncle finally finished and opened the door, he could see that it was still morning. He tried to sit up, but his uncle kicked him back down.
"You're still expected to do your chores," said Vernon as he turned to leave. "I will not tolerate laziness in this house," with that said, he left.
Harry tried to sit up, but immediately fell to the floor. A new wave of dizziness, pain, and nausea washed over him, but he ignored it as best he could. He struggled to get up, knowing that his punishment would be terrible if he didn't. He didn't notice that, as he went through the door, blood was visible on his fingertips.
A/N: : : : So how did you like it? Please review, or else I won't have any clue what I'm doing wrong. I'll try to update frequently, but I would at least like a few reviews before I go into the next chapter.
Okay, in the next chapter, we see just how cruel the Dursleys can be.
Word count : 1,406