Chapter Text
Freak was cooking breakfast for the Dursleys. He stood on a wobbly stool that Uncle Vernon had grudgingly bought him when they realized he wouldn’t be able to cook them anything well if he couldn’t at least see the food.
Freak hadn’t eaten for nearly three days, although he had been given a whole turnip then, so it was actually a pretty good week. He still ended up nearly passing out after finishing his chore list the day before, but he had managed to complete it, meaning that he’d only been given the standard ten lashes from his uncle’s belt, rather than the wild enraged beating he would have gotten if he hadn’t finished, or worse, if he had done something wrong.
He finished cooking the eggs and scraped them into a bowl, placing them on a table that was set for three people. He glanced sadly at the large breakfast he’d cooked as he heard his uncle thumping down the stairs.
“Breakfast had better be finished, boy, or you’ll be regretting it for weeks!”
Freak flinched at the roar coming from upstairs and quickly scrambled to his place in the corner, awaiting judgement from the walrus-like man and his family. Vernon Dursley blustered into the room with all the grace of a wounded elephant, followed by the beady-eyed Petunia. Dudley came in soon afterwards, immediately heading towards Freak and hitting his arm, yelling.
“I’m hungry!”
“Come here Diddykins. We’ve got lots of food here for my growing boy,” Aunt Petunia simpered.
Vernon laughed happily. “Smart boy, knows how to take charge to get what he wants. He’ll get far in life, Tunie, just you wait. Just like his father.”
Freak stayed silent, knowing he’d just get in trouble if he made any noise. Freaks like him deserved to be hurt. Freaks like him had to be put in their place.
The Dursleys attacked the food, Petunia pecking at it like it had offended her, while Vernon and Dudley inhaled it like vacuums. Part of the way through the meal, Petunia suddenly seemed to notice Harry in the corner, looking longingly at the food.
“You haven’t earned any food yet, you freak,” she screeched. “Go and do your chores and maybe you’ll be able to earn some food, even if freaks don’t really deserve to have anything.”
Freak quickly escaped the kitchen, pulling down the long list of chores that had been pinned to his cupboard. The list was slightly shorter than usual, and he had hope that if he finished quickly that Aunt Petunia might give him some food to get him out of the way.
****
Freak bit his lip desperately, tears running tracks down his face as his uncle kicked him in the ribs. Vernon stomped on his leg, earning a snapping sound that had him smirking almost ferally before his face returned to the enraged twist it had been in.
Earlier, while Freak was scrubbing the floor in the kitchen, Dudley had knocked the vase in the corner off of the table. Freak was terrified as Dudley ran off, calling to his parents about “fweak” breaking something again. Freak ran desperately to the vase, praying that he could fix it, when before his eyes the vase began to put itself back together. He watched in delight as the formerly broken vase inexplicably returned to the table, completely whole. He turned to the doorway, thinking that, for once, he was going to be lucky, but found his primary tormenter furious and maybe a little bit afraid.
“NO!” Vernon snarled. “There will be none of that disgusting freakishness from you in this house!”
He thundered towards the now cowering boy, grabbing the vase and throwing it to the ground, shattering it once more. He then grabbed the back of the boy’s collar, throwing him to the ground on top of the shards before beginning to furiously kick him.
Once Freak’s leg and probably a couple of ribs had been broken, Vernon began unbuckling his belt. The boy’s eyes released more tears and he sobbed silently at the sound.
“On your knees, boy.”
Freak lost track of how many lashes he was given, but he was barely awake by the end of it. He was limp as he was dragged from the kitchen and thrown into his cupboard. He slowly curled up on the cot, with every nerve screaming out in agony.
In the familiar darkness, Freak found the smallest bit of courage left in his broken heart and whispered words that he no longer felt he deserved.
“Someone please save me.”
Just before he lost consciousness from pain and blood loss, Freak felt himself wrapped in a warm and comforting feeling, as though something was telling him that they were there, and he would be all right.