Standing Beside the Fallen

on the Essence of Disbelief

Chapter 1 - on the Essence of Disbelief

So far, Harry Potter's summer vacation was anything but relaxing. Inside Number Four Privet Drive, things were not as pleasant and calm as they appeared to be from the outside. Inside the house, the Dursley's were not the kind and understanding neighbors they tried to portray, as another way to make their lives seem perfect and better than any of the other neighbors on the street. But their lives were far from their version of normal and perfect, and the reason was currently shivering, dusting the furniture in the living room, lost in thought and unfortunately, unsuspecting to his surroundings.

Harry could feel the shards of glass piercing the skin on top of his head as the vase smashed and shattered, cutting and embedding themselves into his skin. Out of sheer surprise more than anything else, he yelped and fell to the floor. He could feel the blood trickling down his face and the excruciating pain passing surround his skull. Bright lights shown before his eyes and his vision swam. He willed himself not cry out as he felt his body land painfully on his shoulder. He kept his eyes screwed shut, but even then he could sense the looming shadow above him. It was a monster - an animal. It was likely to kill him.

Something hard connected with his ribs and he felt his body fly forcefully onto his back, shooting pains going up his spine. He felt the crack in his chest rather than heard it over the sounds of his unstifled cry. It was something he could not muffle - the pain was just unbearable. He wanted to pass out, to get away from the pain. There were so many things he wanted at the moment, but it seemed that none was going to be given. For his head started to swim menacingly as he found a thick hand grasping his neck and lifting him so high and forcefully, he was being supported by them as his feet were a good six inches from the ground. Harry slowly opened his green eyes and for the first time revealed his true fear to his attacker.

His uncle's furious face swam in and out of his vision. His face was so close to Harry's that he could see the small pools of swear that shined on his puce skin. He could still smell the putrid hot breath even though his air supply had been cut short by the strangling man. He had been trying unsuccessfully to remove the thick purple fingers from his throat. He was feeling nauseated, but his lightheadedness was worse. He needed to breath!

"How dare you!" His uncle said in a dangerously menacing voice. Spittle flew from his mouth and sprayed Harry's steadily blue face. "How dare you endanger my family? You deserve every ounce of pain you get, boy."

The hand let go and Harry crumpled to the ground, gasping deeply for air. He could already feel the bruises forming around his throat and winced as he grudgingly turned and stared at Uncle Vernon's fuming eyes. Harry was sure that behind the anger, he could see a glimmer of glee, as though he were savoring every bruise he placed on Harry's battered body. He knew why his uncle was angry, and why he had resorted to doing this to him, but he was torn in two. He wasn't sure whether he deserved this punishment or not.

His uncle advanced and Harry instinctively threw his arms over his head. It seemed to do no good as his uncle dragged him to his feet, and before he could fall over in pain, a fist connected with his cheek and he fell more forcefully to find two more kicks placed in his back. He yelled in pain, tears falling from his scrunched up eyes, and was only aware from the tremendous pain that he was being dragged up the stairs. He was thrown into his bedroom and he landed hard on the floor, darkness swimming in front of his vision.

"Next time," His uncle hissed. "Don't think I'll be so generous on you. I've said it before and I'll say it again: What you need is a good beating to squash that godforsaken magic from you. And that is exactly what I'm going to do, whether you live to see the end results or not. There is nobody to save you Potter, and nobody to hear your pitiful pleading."