#was meant to say 'floor' btw not floo

[canceriancryptid]

my ex landlord is lying about me and i cant breathe

i cant even fight it if i want to be able to rent anywhere in the future

my friends told me my only option is to go to the mediation and then settle

either way, she wins and i have to just figure it out

[therezastarman]

I am not Vernon

Something I wrote a couple months back...

Warning: child abuse, and explicit whipping. 

BTW: in this story, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are still alive.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. :.(

The front door of the Burrow opened to reveal George Weasley. He was home early. 

“What, you missed us so much?” Molly Weasley asked, “you only left two hours ago.”

All of the Weasleys had come back to the Burrow for a week-long family reunion, and naturally, Harry, Hermione, and all of the kids had joined them.

“No,” George sighed, “I just got laid off my job.”

Pieces of Harry’s childhood flashed before his eyes. His Uncle Vernon’s angry, purple face, the dreaded whip, the ache of hunger, being thrown back into his cupboard after those very words had been uttered. And suddenly, Harry wasn’t in the Burrow surrounded by his favorite people, he was back at Number 4 Privet Drive. 

… 

Harry had just sent Hedwig to deliver a letter to Ron when he heard the front door slam open and his Uncle yelling, “boy, get down here.”

That was a sentence that Harry was very used to hearing. It always meant that his Uncle was either drunk or very mad. Harry knew it was the latter when he walked down the stairs to see his Uncle’s face scrunched up and purple with anger. 

“WE TOOK YOU IN,” his Uncle was yelling, before Harry had completely descended the stairs, “WE TOOK CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU WERE LEFT ON OUR DOORSTEP, WE EVEN LET YOU GO TO THAT FREAK SCHOOL, AND WHAT DO WE GET IN RETURN? NO THANKS, NO MONEY, NO, IN RETURN, WE LOSE OUR JOBS.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, “I don’t even know where you work, how can I make you lose your job?” 

Harry felt proud to have finally stood up to his Uncle, but all of the pride left him as he heard the crack of a whip as it hit the floor.

“You listen here, boy,” Harry’s uncle said with so much rage in his voice that Harry started to shake with fright, knowing what would come next, “freaks like you don’t talk to people like us unless they are asked a question. Now I just got laid off my job and do you know who’s fault it is?”

“M-mine sir,” Harry stuttered.

“Too right it is. Now, take off your shirt and GO STAND BY THE WALL!”

Harry complied, knowing that the beating would just last longer if he so much as hesitated. The feeling of the whip on his back somehow brought Harry back to his childhood and he was disgusted.

The relentless whipping on his skin ripped wherever it hit to shreds, causing, not only a horrid burning sensation but also a warm sticky liquid, which he knew to be blood, to run down his back. Harry tried to hold in his scream, he really did, but he couldn’t keep it up for long. He knew from experience that screaming wouldn’t ease the pain, rather, it would make the beating longer, but he couldn’t help it, Harry let out a blood-curdling scream.

“YOU UNGRATEFUL PIECE OF SHIT,” Harry’s Aunt Petunia screamed, coming into the room, “FIRST YOU LOSE VERNON HIS JOB AND NOW YOU WANT THE NEIGHBORS TO HEAR YOU?” She turned to Vernon, “just throw him in his cupboard until his freak school starts again.”

… 

Harry looked around, realizing that he was cowering in the corner, just as he had as a child. 

“Harry, Harry,” Ron was saying, “y-you were just s-staring up at the ceiling an-and you wouldn’t respond and, H-harry, are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Harry responded, casting a wary glance at George.

“Daddy?” Lily asked. 

“Why don’t we eat lunch?” Hermione said, also wanting answers, but knowing that Harry was more likely to give them if his children weren’t around to hear.

…

Lunch was pretty uneventful, just catching up on each other's lives and talking about the funny and cute things that their kids had done since they had last seen each other, that is until George said; “I’m just so mad, I mean I was so close to getting a promotion, I could feel it and then I just had to-”

 “I-I’m sorry sir,”  Harry interrupted.

“Ooo, you hear that I’m sir, I like that,” George turned to Harry, “but why are you sorry?” 

“Aren’t you mad at me?” Harry asked as Ginny and Ron led the kids upstairs to play.

Umm…no why would I be mad at you?”

“I made you lose your job,” Harry responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“No you didn’t,” George said looking at Harry to make sure that he heard him, “I was the irresponsible one, I lost my job because I spiked my boss’s coffee with a potion that caused his face to look like a duck’s face, not you.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Harry stated as Ron and Ginny slid back into their chairs.

“What makes you think that it's your fault?”  George asked.

“Well it was last time,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

“What did you say, dear?” Molly asked.

“Nothing.”

“He said,” came a familiar voice from the living room, “‘well it was last time’.”

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin came strolling into the dining room.

“Being a werewolf pays off some times,” Remus said.

“We heard there was a family reunion and we flooed in to check it out,” Sirius explained their presence.

“Last time?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” Harry said.

“Yes, it does,” Ginny stood up, turning to Harry, her voice full of emotion, “what you are thinking matters, your feelings matter, they are valid, you are valid, when will you accept that? You are the most important thing in the world to me I love you, we all do, you need to understand that, you need to trust us.”

“NO, GINNY. STOP. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND,” Harry suddenly roared, “NONE OF YOU DO. YOU GREW UP IN A FAMILY THAT LOVES YOU. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE CALLED AN UNGRATEFUL WORTHLESS FREAK. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE LOCKED UP IN A CUPBOARD WITH NO FOOD FOR A WEEK BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T FINISH YOUR RIDICULOUSLY LONG LIST OF CHORES IN A RIDICULOUSLY SHORT TIME LIMIT. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE��— Harry started sobbing—“to be beaten up by your overly spoiled cousin while your aunt and uncle cheer him on. You don’t know what it’s like to be whipped by your uncle simply because he feels like it.”

Ginny sat back down, tears streaming down her face as Molly let out a sob.

“Why didn’t you tell anybody?” Ginny asked.

“Same reason I didn’t,” Sirius stated.

Harry looked up in surprise. 

Fleur had her head buried in Bill’s long hair. Bill was looking down, some of his hair covering his face. Audrey had her head resting on Percy’s shoulder whose head was resting on hers, both looked close to tears. Charlie looked like he was going to be sick, Ron had his head buried in Hermione’s bushy hair, both had tears streaming down their faces. George was comforting a crying Angelina, looking appalled himself. Aurther sat there, fuming with an arm around Molly’s shoulders.

“I understand you,” Sirius said, letting a single tear fall down his face, “I understand how it feels to have the people who are supposed to care about you and love you most, hate you, hurt you. You heard my mother’s portrait when you visited the headquarters of The Order. My father was worse, enjoined seeing me in pain—”

“Why didn’t you tell us, either of you,” interrupted Molly.

Sirius sighed, rubbed his eyes, and looked up. 

“You need to understand the mentality that living in conditions like this gives you. After a while, you start to believe what they are saying about you, you start to believe that you are an unworthy, worthless piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to live. You start to believe that you are a burden to everybody who loves you, talks to you, sees you and so you keep your mouth shut as not to be even more of a burden.”

“We could have been there for you, been the support you never had,” Molly insisted.

“Moony here tried,” Sirius inclined his head toward Remus, “he figured it out, being the brainiac he is.”

“You wouldn’t believe how stubborn Ol’ Padfoot here is,” Remus half-heartedly joked, “we went around in circles for a while until I finally convinced him to run away to James’ house.” 

Harry turned to Sirius.

“I-I need you to help me,” he whispered, “you’ve figured out how to deal with it, I need you to help me come to terms with it.”

“Harry,” Sirius said, enveloping Harry in a huge hug, “I wish I could, I thought I had come to terms with it, accepted it, but I just ignored it, moved on to another chapter of my life.” Sirius leaned out of the hug and looked Harry in the eye. “I ignored it, but it has come back to bite me, you can ask Moony, I still have nightmares about my father whipping me, I still flinch sometimes when people touch me, there are still some days where I sit around wallowing in self-hate. I don’t know if I can help you, but a healer can. I need you to be brave and try to be more trusting, that is something that I remind myself every day, it helps.”

“Harry,” George said, “I am not going to hurt you, Harry, remember, I am not Vernon.”