New Awakening

Dulled Green Eyes

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“BOY! WERE YOU STEALING OUR FOOD? I’LL TEACH YOU NOT TO TOUCH ANYTHING OF OURS EVER AGAIN!” Vernon said grabbing him roughly by the arm, his already broken arm.

 

“N-N-No. P-Please, U-Uncle Vernon, I-I-I’ll b-be g-good.” Harry begged as he saw his Uncle turn on the stove.

 

“What. Have. I. Told. You. About. TALKING?” His Uncle slapped him in the face and put Harry’s left hand on the fire.

 

Harry felt it burn, he felt his skin on fire, Like every neurone was transmitting some sort of acid to the one beside it.

 

Harry shot up on the bed and couldn’t help himself. He didn’t even notice that someone was rubbing his back he just bent forward and emptied the contents of his stomach, which resumed in bile.

He closed his eyes and started heaving. He could feel the panic attack coming. He couldn’t remember how to breathe. He just mumbled “I’m sorry” over and over again, hoping it would work. It never did. Someone was saying soothing words in his ear but he couldn’t make out what she was saying, only that it was a she.

He didn’t even notice when the blanket covering him was magically clean, he just curled himself in a ball to protect his vital organs and started rocking back and forth and mumbling to low for anyone to make out what he was saying. Suddenly breathing was harder and he started to hyperventilate.

James sat on the mattress and gathered the too small boy in his arms. Harry started thrashing, trying to get away from the foreign touch, thinking it would hurt him.

“It’s okay, Harry. Shhh, relax. I wont hurt you, buddy.” James said soothingly, while mumbling to Lily to get a calming draught. “Breathe with me okay? In… out… in… out.”

Harry couldn’t make out what the voice was saying, but it was soothing. It wasn’t aggressive like his Uncle’s, it was slightly husky, it’s tone made you want to relax. And those arms, he was being cuddled for the first time in his life and by a stranger. A stranger that made him feel safer than he ever felt.

But soon a vial of some coloured liquid was put to his mouth and he knew best then to resist but couldn’t help it.

“P-Please. I-I’ll be good.” Tears fell faster.

He could remember that time when he was 9 and Uncle Vernon made him drink detergent because he said the M word. He spent days vomiting (even blood) and with stomach ache.

“Harry, darling, this will make you feel better. It’s just to calm you down a bit and to help your nausea alright?” A woman with auburn hair, green eyes (that later he would notice were just like his) and a soft voice said coming to his line of sight.

“We won’t hurt you, buddy. Not now not ever.” The man holding him said, rubbing his back.

Harry didn’t honestly believed them but what choice did he have but to drink?