Playing Dress-up ~Tomarry~

Chapter 6 ✅

Date: July 15th, 1992

3rd person PoV:

It had been 2 weeks since the Hogwarts school year had ended. And they were the longest 2 weeks of Harry's life. Harry looked completely unrecognisable; his face was battered and bruised his eyes and cheeks were sunken in. The yellow, blue and purple bruises overlapped each other. He was back to wearing Dudley's old rags again and they drowned Harry's too skinny body.

As Harry rushed to finish brushing the floor before his Uncle got home from work, the limp in his left foot had become significantly worse. He knew he should let it heal but he didn't want another beating. That would surely kill him. Wouldn't it?

At this point he didn't even shout out for help. Like that would work anyway. His vocal chords were still slivered from last week's episode of furious, blinded anger. You see Harry's uncle had gotten called into his bosses office to present a PowerPoint on new,innovative ideas for drill bits but his presentation when he looked for it, his laptop had disappeared. He had been threatened with being fired if it happened again.

Yes, that night had been the worst since he had found himself on the roof of his primary school 4 years ago.  And that ended up him being brought to hospital and being treated for internal bleeding. And NOT because he fell off the roof.

This time he had managed to do a whispered, wandless spell to see how bad his injuries were... his ankle was completely shattered and his vocal chords ripped apart. When Harry seen the images he burst into silent sobbing. 'Oh merlin what was he supposed to do now?' 'How am I meant to cast spells.' Wordless magic is harder than most.

Although, Harry was glad of his magic which allowed him to walk, the bones on his ankle where slowly healing themselves and binding back together with his magic. It would however not heal correctly and he would always have a slight limp. It just took longer since he was continuing to use his foot.

Harry walked out into the front garden, limping heavily, trying to finish his chores for the day. When Hydrath who was in a bad mood came to talk to him he smiled. Hydrath was always in a bad mood, since he had seen what his relatives done to 'his speaker'.

When Hydrath found out he was livid, raging, you name it he was beyond furious. He was ready to go in and murder the unsuspecting, 'pathetic humans' as he put it.

Hydrath passed him the herbs and leaves that he collected for Harry to use to make bruise paste to help his face. Hydrath quickly slithered up his arm to hide under the collar of his oversized jumper. Probably trying to warm up after being outside all night. Harry quickly put the herbs and leaves away in his pocket before continuing on with his gardening chores. Once he was finished he asked Hydrath to get off his shoulder before heading inside to make dinner for his 'family'.

Whenever Harry got time, he was replenishing his stock of salves and herbs. Hydrath had taught him a lot in the small time they had been together. Harry was grateful, in all honesty Harry owed his familiar what he considered a 'life dept.' But hydrath refused, he said 'being a speakers familiar was a great honour in itself.'

Harry had left Hedwig at Hogwarts with Hagrid. It was the safest place for her. She would eat well and could fly freely for as long as she liked. It was better for her.

Harry's summer continued in repeat, overloaded with chores, talk to hydrath, being chased by Dudley's and his gang, more chores, making more bruise balm and salves for his injuries and being beaten by his uncle.

First person PoV:
Date: July 22nd, 1992

It's been a week since I updated you on my injuries. My ankle is fixed but I can't talk yet. My chores are still being given to me constantly and I get fed a slice of bread every two days and a glass of water everyday. You can see my ribs as the stick out from beneath my skin on of which also doesn't look like the rest, it's cracked and painful.

Date: July 31st, 1993

Happy birthday to me! Today I'm 13! Yay I'm officially a teenager. Of course I got 'special' treatment. Just a couple more wounds and bruises. Nothing special.

Hydrath remembered and wished me a happy birthday but I didn't get any letters or presents from Ron or Hermione. I guess they must still be mad at me for standing up for Draco.

Date: August 24th, 1993

Well it's been a minute that's for sure but I can now talk in parceltongue. That's a big improvement and Hydrath said it should be about a month or two before I can speak properly again. Yes, that's amazing but what am I meant to do about class? Whatever I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

It was late into the night of August 31st when Hydrath sneaked into the cupboard under the stairs were I stayed in for the summer. He quickly curled up around my neck and fell asleep. I smiled thinking that it would all be over and I would be back at Hogwarts. I don't think anything could ruin my good mood. Well except for dumb-as-a-door and his minions, but that will come later.

Date: September 1st, 1993

Well it is currently 5:00 in the morning and Uncle Vernon agreed to drop me off at kings cross Early. Yay! Now I'm getting ready to make breakfast for a family of twits.

I grabbed the eggs, bacon and sausage from the fridge and grabbed a pan from the cupboard beside the sink. I started frying the sausage and bacon before putting on the eggs and serving it on the table. Dudley the fat pig must have smelt the bacon cooking from his room because just as I had set it down he came stomping down the stairs. He pushed me out of the way and my hand landed on the hobs which were still burning hot. I swore in parceltongue and rushed to put my hand under the cold running water.

Vernon and Petunia came down a couple minutes later and I was shouted and got a slap across the face for wasting the clean water that they pay for.

If your wondering my visible bruises and cuts have healed. (Although not without a couple scars). The ones on my legs and chest, not so much but it'll heal through time.

My voice box is still very weak and I cannot speak properly. I guess I will have to go to Madame Pomfrey and tell her something about an uncontrolled acid reflux and didn't get to go to a doctors or hospital for it? That will be fun.

~1170