Everybody Hates Me... So Do I | A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter two

Dread. That's all he felt when his teacher told the class it was photograph day. Harry was painfully aware of the bruise on his face when he went into the room and sat on the stool. His photograph was taken as he looked on with dull eyes, not smiling even though the photographer had told him to. When he was asked if he wanted to see the photo, he just shook his head and left, leaving the photographer startled by the said 'rudeness' of him.

Soon it was time to go back to Privet Drive and Harry was lucky his uncle wasn't back from his job at the drill company yet. He used the opportunity to use the bathroom. Soon he was going to be starting a new school and he was terrified. 

What would it be like? Who would he be with? What would they do to him? It was a school for criminal boy and he was no criminal. He was voiceless. He would try to shout but nobody heard him, nobody tuned into the empty silence.

Harry looked up and saw a packet of razor refills. Twenty razors and the packet was open. Would his uncle notice if he took one? He doubted it. Harry picked it up without thinking and brought it to his relatively bare arm. The only marks were a couple of bruises made by his uncle.

The razor was ironically named a 'safety razor' Harry noticed as he sliced his skin as deep as he could. He flinched slightly, but he was awed to see the blood run down his arm. He did it again, and again... 

The scarlet ran down his arm, causing his skin to look even paler than it had before. Bang! The shutting of the door brought him back to reality. Vernon was home and that meant he was going to have to make him some coffee and something to eat. 

Harry hurriedly put his jumper on, ignoring the stinging the ruff material caused his still bleeding cuts. He shoved the razor into his pocket and ran down the stairs. The kettle on, the coffee in the cup, the sugar, he liked it black. 

He gave it to Vernon, who was slumped on a wooden chair that creaked beneath his weight, without saying a single word. He asked his uncle what he would like to eat and his uncle said 'a bacon sandwich, Harry!' 

So he made one, and gave it to his uncle and watched him eat it, starving. Harry's stomach rumbled loudly, and his uncle looked at him, anger shown heavily on his features. Harry stepped back as his uncle put the sandwich down. 

"You hungry, boy?" His uncle asked him, standing up causing the chair to hum in relief. Harry shook his head, lying. He was more than hungry. He was starving. He hadn't eaten for almost four days, but his uncle didn't seem to care. He just got angry if he got hungry. 

"I'm s-s-sorry uncle I-!" Harry felt his tooth come out of his gum as his uncle punched him. He opened his mouth causing blood to spill out, the tooth too coming with it. Harry put his hand over his mouth not wanting to make his uncle more angry with the mess it would create. 

Harry ran out of the room and outside down the street until he arrived at a park which he often ran to. He hid behind one of the bushes and spit the blood onto the floor, causing a red pool to form beside him. 

He didn't cry.