Till The End • A HarryxRon Fanfiction

Summer Sins

Crimson.

The sight of blood for few was rare but for one particular boy, it was something he had grown accustomed to. Moments like these proved so. A beaten body was a tired one; being forced to clean up your own blood after being punched, kicked, cut and just brutally beaten, really would cause more pain and become extremely hard. 

On hands and knees, Harry forced his fragile and weak body to keep going. If he didn't he knew he would be woken up with an unpleasant surprise. He could almost taste it. A metallic taste lingered on his tongue, this also created a foul scent. He had always hated the smell of blood but learnt to live with it. How could he not? 

With a nail brush and a bucket next to him, Harry scrubbed the floor as hard as he could but he was far too weak to put much elbow grease into it. Which just meant he had to spend longer on it. The blood diluted underneath him which created a kind of mirror. His glasses slid a little down his nose and his eyes looked so dull to him, the once bright green babies eyes were now dull. No longer did they hold an innocence of the world. He closed his eyes and let a tear fall into the puddle; causing a faint ripple and blur. 

Harry couldn't wait to go back to Hogwarts. He was free from pain, blood and torment there. He had friends and felt loved. He could be himself and he adored it. He just wished he could stay there and never see the Dursleys again. For now, however, he knew he would have to suffer. 

For what seemed like hours was mere minutes. The water in the bucket became red and his hands have now become stained the colour crimson. His exhausted body let out a sigh as he pushed himself to his feet. Legs were wobbly and felt like jelly underneath him; if it wasn't for the actuality that he was use to all of this he would have crumpled to the ground. It was safer in the cupboard he called his bedroom. 

The idea of it being a bedroom was laughable. All it was, was a tiny triangular room under the stairs. The cot bed was torn and stained. It was far from comfortable but was better than the hard wooden floor. There was nothing special about the room apart from he knew he could finally let his body go once inside. The walls somewhat relaxed him. Tight spaces generally did. Harry felt way too out in the open. Anything could happen. 

Crawling into his room, Harry let his legs give way and fell to the pathetic excuse of a bed. A bad decision on his behalf. Doing this caused a quiet whimper to escape his chapped lips; the large purple and blue bruises covering his body getting pressed by doing so. 

Curling up, Harry closed his eyes and let his body go limp as he fell into a deep sleep. The only place he felt at peace this summer.