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A Boy Named 'Harry'	By : HeyDarlin Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 18792 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 2
This is my second fic. This will be SLASH HP/SS so if you don�t like that kind of think don�t even bother reading this. This story will have a lot of violence from the start and rape later on, so if you do not wish to read anything like this please do not bother.
My inspiration for this story was a book called �A child called �it.� by Dave Pelzer so you might find things from the book loosely interpreted in here.
Big thank you�s to my beta�s Bluetribalrose, Brittine (Flamin Vixen), Katie (quixotic_hope), Serpent Of Light.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters etc and nor do I own a �Child Called �It�.

Chapter 1 - Why Me?

�No. Please, please sir. I�m sorry.�
Harry cried out as Vernon�s fist collided with his face again, the force of the blow knocking him to the floor. Harry cried out again as his uncle�s foot connected with his ribs and then his stomach. Harry crawled into a ball, trying to cover his head and other vital organs with his arms and legs. He lay still while the beating was going on, tightly curled up knowing any other movement would just provoke the man further. Harry hoped that his uncle would get bored soon so he could finish the rest of his chores and go to bed.
After a bit more kicking, Vernon stopped all together and walked out the room.
Harry gasped in as much air as his battered lungs could handle and tried to sit up. Once he did, an immense pain shot through his stomach, and he regurgitated what very little food he had eaten that day all over the kitchen floor. Upon hearing Harry empty his stomach, Vernon stormed back into the kitchen, laughing when he saw Harry leaning over his own vomit, clutching his stomach.
�What�s the matter, boy?� He walked over, side stepping Harry�s mess, and grabbed him by his hair, pulling his head back to look into Harry�s eyes. Harry avoided his uncle�s gaze at all costs, choosing to look at a blank space on the wall instead of the terrifying figure looming over him.
Harry was truly in hell. This had happened everyday since he got back to Privet Drive for his summer vacation. Somehow, the Dursleys had found out that Sirius was innocent. Since then, Harry had lost his only defence against his �family�. The thought of an escaped convict coming to the house if they touched Harry had slightly unnerved them. But now, every punch that was thrown and every foul word that was spoken in the house was always directed at Harry.
Vernon had been denied a promotion at work and had taken up using Harry as a punching bag to vent his anger on. Not that Vernon really needed an excuse to strike Harry. Just being there when he was younger had given his uncle reason enough for there to be bloodshed. But never before had it ever been this severe.
Okay, a few punches here and there weren�t that bad, but during this summer it has become a regular occurrence, and Harry wasn�t sure how much more he could handle. No-one knew anything was wrong as Vernon had made him write to his �freaky friends� every two days to tell them everything was okay and that the muggles were treating him well. Actually, Harry never used the word �muggles� in his letters, as Vernon always checked them before they were sent off to make sure they were suitable enough. The last time he had used the word �muggles� in his letter, at the start of the summer, he had not eaten for 10 days afterwards.
Food had been more an issue than ever this summer. Harry had gone from being slightly on the skinny side to looking more anorexic than anything. He was only fed when his uncle was in a fairly good mood, which wasn�t often. Harry would frequently have to go at least two days before his uncle even considered feeding him. Harry was just glad the summer was almost over. He would be returning to Hogwarts at the end of this week, and he couldn�t wait. Vernon might have been able to stop him from visiting the Weasley�s this summer, but he couldn�t stop him from going to school. Vernon had made Harry ask the Weasleys if they could collect his school supplies from Diagon Alley so Harry could not have a chance to see his friends and tell them about his summer. Harry grinned as he thought of going back to Hogwarts, but immediately regretted it.
�Think this is funny, do you, boy?� Vernon snarled, throwing Harry forward and chuckling as he landed in his own vomit.
�Get that mess cleaned up, then get upstairs and get changed; I will deal with you after I have had my dinner.� He added a few kicks to Harry�s side just for the sake of it and went back into the living room where the rest of the family were watching some dumb television program about celebrities stuck in a jungle somewhere.
Harry winced as he stood, holding his side through the vomit-soaked shirt and dragged himself to the cupboard in which the cleaning products were stowed.
Once the kitchen floor was shining again, Harry crept up the stairs, trying to make sure he did not alert Vernon to the fact that he was finished as he would almost certainly be made to finish his chores from that day. Harry almost fell into his room from the pain. Grabbing a new set of clothes and a towel, Harry headed for the shower.
Once Harry stepped into the flow of warm water, he sighed as it gently caressed his battered body and discoloured skin, soothing his cuts and bruises both old and new. Harry grabbed the soap and began to wash himself carefully as every inch of his skin was covered in a bruise or cut of some kind. Harry reached out, picking up a bottle of shampoo and poured it into his hair, massaging it into his scalp to get rid of all the dirt and grease that had built up over the last few days. Harry almost shuddered when he remembered earlier that his hair had begun to look like his potions professor�s. Harry gasped as he heard his uncle downstairs. Apparently, he had taken a lot longer than he had thought in the shower as the others had already eaten their meals. Harry�s stomach growled at the thought of food. He had managed to earn a few scraps today, but they had all ended up on the kitchen floor.
Harry jumped out the shower, quickly drying himself off and pulling his clothes on. He had just started on his hair when the bathroom door flew open and Vernon stepped in, closing the door behind him, denying Harry any means of escape.
Harry gulped and instinctively moved backwards away from his uncle. Harry�s eyes darted around the room in desperation, and that�s when he saw the bathtub full to the brim with water. Harry gasped as the realization hit him and tried to dodge out the way as Vernon lurched towards him, kicking the back of his knees so he fell forward, kneeling in front if the tub. In an instant, Vernon�s meaty fist swung out smashing into Harry�s jaw, sending him flying across the floor for the second time that day.
�No please.� Harry sobbed as his hair was grasped and he was forced back into a kneeling position. Vernon just grinned as he thrust Harry�s head under the water ignoring his attempts to break free from his vice-like grip.

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Harry gasped in as much air as he could before his head was thrust forward and soon became submerged beneath the freezing water. He struggled with all his might, flailing his legs and clawing at his uncle�s hand to try to get him to relinquish his grip. Harry fought, but his uncle was far too strong for him; the hand gripped his head, holding it firmly under the icy water. Harry tried to concentrate on holding his breath, not wanting it to run out as it didn�t seem his uncle would be stopping any time soon.

�I�m dying,� Harry thought. If he could have, he would have laughed right now at the irony: �not killed by Voldemort, but drowned in a bath by his uncle.�
As Harry feared, his time soon ran out. He couldn�t hold his breath any longer; the last traces of oxygen were soon dispelled from his lungs. Harry fought again, this time more desperate. �I don�t want to die.� He tried to breathe, wishing for, dreaming of air, but only succeeded in sucking in more and more water. He choked as it filled his lungs. �I�m dying, this is it. He�s going to kill me, he has gone too far.�

A red haze filled Harry�s mind, and he began to relax, almost welcoming what was sure to happen next. He was only half aware of the hand on his head shifting its grip, this time pulling his head back from under the water and throwing him to the floor. Harry received a sudden sharp slap on his back and at once began to spit out the water as he reeled on the floor, gasping in air, not caring for anything. Harry lay weakly on the tiles, continuously breathing in air and spitting out what water remained in his lungs.
As soon as he regained his ability to think fairly straight, Harry found he was being dragged down the hall towards his bedroom, his wet shirt and dripping hair leaving a trail along the carpet. He was only vaguely aware of his uncle propelling him into his room with so much force that he was thrown up against the wall.
Harry stood against the wall, not moving as he listened to his uncle pace across his room, bellowing all kinds of obscenities at him.
Harry shivered as his mind began to acknowledge his body�s response to his soaked shirt, which was clinging to his skin, his hair�s dripping all over the floor, a wet patch forming beneath him. Harry braced himself expectantly as his uncle moved forward, but the punch never came. Instead, Harry watched as the window was hauled open by Vernon�s meaty arms, a menacing grin flashing across his face.

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Harry�s teeth began to chatter unceasingly as the wind blasted through the window, nipping at Harry�s wet skin. His uncle wasn�t just content in drowning him; now he wanted Harry to freeze to death, too. It may have been summer, but damn it was cold today. Harry wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to keep warm. But Vernon was on him in an instant, pulling him around to look at his greasy, podgy face, which was currently an odd shade of purple.
�Boy, I don�t think so. You will stand there until you learn a bit of respect.�
Vernon emphasized his point by slapping Harry hard round the face. The flesh stung even more than usual because of the water that was still running down his cheek, mixing with his own salty tears.

�This isn�t right,� Harry thought as he watched Vernon settle himself in a chair, wrapping his body in a blanket to keep himself warm and opening his magazine, obviously ready for a long wait.

�This isn�t how it�s supposed to be. Why don�t they care about me? Why am I not loved? If Sirius was here, he would care, but he�s not. Sirius, why aren�t you here when I need you? You promised you would always be there for me.�

Harry�s tears increased and a low sob escaped from his cherry lips, causing Vernon to look up and grin maliciously at Harry.
�Ahhhh, does little Harry not want to play any more?� Vernon mocked.
�No sir.� Harry shook his head, sending water droplets everywhere.

Vernon placed the magazine on Harry�s desk and stood up, keeping the blanket wrapped firmly round his podgy shoulders to keep out the chill. He pulled an arm out from the warmth of the blanket, checking his watch before it disappeared back under the folds of the insulating material.
�Hmmm, I don�t know, we�ve only been playing for half an hour.� He smirked so wickedly Harry involuntarily shuddered.
Vernon always referred to Harry�s beatings and other punishments such as the bathtub, as �games.� Harry felt sick whenever Vernon decided to �play,� and right now Harry would rather take on Voldemort alone and without his wand then play any more of his uncle�s twisted �games.�
�But we shouldn�t really play for much longer; I have to get to bed.�
Vernon sat back down in the chair and picked up his magazine, this time setting it on his lap. He stared fixatedly at Harry, trying to think up some new type of game they could both play.
Harry, guessing what his uncle was thinking, just stared at the door, trying to ignore his uncle�s penetrating glare.
�Boy.� Harry�s head snapped up from where it was laying on his chest. Harry had almost been about to fall asleep. It was now near midnight and Harry was shaking with the cold, his clothes still cold and damp.
�You have chores to finish.� Harry just nodded in affirmation.
�Well, don�t just stand there, boy, get working. I expect all those chores to be finished by the morning, no exceptions or else.�
Vernon snarled and went into the bathroom. Harry head Vernon pull the bathplug and the water slowly draining away. Then Harry heard the sound of flowing water as the shower was turned on. Vernon always took an age in the shower after playing one of his �games� in order to wash thoroughly every part of his body that had come into contact with the boy. Harry wondered why he bothered with his games since afterwards he would only have to spend forever in the shower washing the filth of his body.
After Harry was sure Vernon was actually in the shower, he finally stepped away from the wall, his legs giving way from beneath him, and he tumbled onto his bed, whimpering as the material came into contact with his skin and the bruises that covered it. He lay still for a while, waiting for the feeling to return to his legs so he could stand up once again and continue with his chores.

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Harry was on his knees in the kitchen scrubbing the floor so vigorously his hands were bleeding. It was about 8:00 in the morning and it was the third time he had washed the kitchen floor since the bathtub game.
The floor had been first on a very long list of chores his uncle had left him to do by the morning; his uncle knew full well that Harry couldn�t finish all the items on the list which went a bit like this:

Clean floor - kitchen, living room (Don�t touch anything else boy)

Empty, clean and organize kitchen cupboards. (Clean up any mess)

Take the garbage out. (Clean up any mess)

Make breakfast.
That was just the basic outline, except Vernon had missed the bits about where he had placed things in the cupboards covered with butter so Harry would drop them, spilling the contents all over the clean floor, and he also failed to mention the fact that the garbage bag had been slit at the bottom. As Harry dragged it across the floor to the door, all the rubbish that was in the bag fell onto the floor.
Harry was scared of what Vernon might do if he didn�t clean up. He had been forced to wash the floor for the third time that night, well, morning actually.
Normally, Harry would have been able to do the tasks on the list in no time but considering the state he was in at the moment, Harry was surprised that he�d actually managed to do them at all.
Harry continued washing the floor on his hands and knees as he heard Dudley thunder down the stairs and come to a halt just in front of him, knocking his bucket over and kicking Harry a few times just for fun. When he got no reaction from Harry, he switched the television on and sat down in front of it, gobbling down his cooked breakfast.
Harry just continued with his work, glad that the house would very soon be empty. Vernon was going to work, Petunia was going shopping, and Dudley was going out with friends.
Harry sighed and sat back on his heels, dropping the rag he had been using and stopping for a brief minute to examine his hands. They were both red and wrinkled from the water he had been using. His fingers were bleeding, but that wasn�t anything out of the ordinary.
�Boy, get back to work,� Vernon barked out as he entered the kitchen.
Harry complied, listening to his uncle as he explained what Harry was going to do today and trying not to think of the food that was on the table. The food that was just there, but he couldn�t have it.
Vernon had counted every piece of bacon and every sausage, making sure Harry couldn�t take any food. Harry hadn�t even bothered to try and take any food out of the cupboards as Petunia weighed everything, so trying to take anything would be useless. He would be found out and then forced to throw-up over the toilet to empty his stomach.
�And boy, tonight we will talk about what you will tell all the other freaks about what went on this summer, understand?�
Harry nodded and continued working as the Dursleys finished their breakfast, making sure nothing was left on the plates that Harry could steal. They all stood up from the table as one, walking past Harry and to the front door. After Harry heard the door slam and the car leaving the driveway, he dropped the rag and collapsed to the floor, tears coating his cheek and low sobs escaping his lips.

'Why can�t I just die and get it over with?'
'Why subject me to this torture?'
'Why me?'

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PLEASE R & R.
Constructive comments and criticism are very welcome.
Hey Darlin
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A Boy Named 'Harry'