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Warning: This chapter contains some domestic violence. If you are sensitive to that kind of stuff, skip the end, but its really not that bad. Very mild. A few sentences really. I own nothing!

The plan was in his head. It was perfect, ingenious really. He had the resources, now all he had to do was wait until nightfall, and his plan would be in motion. Harry crawled out of bed and checked his wrist watch. 5:30 P.M. What was he supposed to do now? He was a bundle of nerves, not knowing if his plan was going to work or not. Maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky, he could stay out of his Uncle’s way until it was time.


After spending the rest of the day helping his aunt clean the house, while Dudley was coincidently at a friend’s house having “tea,” Harry had gone to his bedroom and laid on his bed, planning his escape out of the hellhole he was forced to live.


A sharp rapping noise on his door caused Harry to look up sharply. His aunt’s head appeared through the door crack, as if afraid that if she came too close, she would be contaminated.


“Are you dressed yet? Vernon’s guests will be here in almost half an hour, get a move on.” She quickly jerked her head out of the door crack and slammed the door closed.


Harry sighed and looked at the clothes that his aunt and uncle had given him to wear tonight. The black dress pants and dark green button up shirt actually was new and nice looking for once. His aunt, afraid of what her husband’s boss would think of Harry, went out while Harry was cleaning and bought him some new clothes. They were the first clothes that the Dursley’s had ever bought him.


Harry slowly snuck into the hallway. His aunt had forbid him from ever using Dudley’s personal bathroom, but she had also told him to rid of the hair on his face. Harry knew Dudley was downstairs, watching his mom like a hawk while she frosted the cake. Harry slowly turned the knob to Dudley’s door and crept in. Trying to close the door as slowly as he could, Harry almost cursed out loud the door closed with a bang.


Harry stood tense for what seemed like hours and moved to the bathroom when he was sure that no one was coming to investigate the noise. Dudley’s room was a mess, even more so than Harry’s own. Harry entered the bathroom and started to look through the cabinet above the sink for a razor and shaving cream. Dudley had started shaving a summer ago.


After finding the cream and razor, Harry looked at the razor curiously. How does one shave? Harry put the razor down and picked up the shaving cream. After getting a fair amount on his fingers, Harry massaged the cream into his face. Once done, he washed his hands in the sink.


Harry again looked at the razor skeptically. Swallowing, Harry picked the razor up, and with a slight hesitation, put the razor on his cheek and began to pull downward.


Halfway through, Harry heard Dudley coming back into his room. Harry panicked and grabbed all the shaving stuff and jumped into the shower. Dropping all the shaving stuff in the tub, Harry pulled the shower curtains around the tub.


Dudley came walking into the bathroom. Harry stood still, afraid to breath. He heard a zipper, and then heard a sound, as if someone were sitting on the pot. A huge resounding noise came out of no where. It smelled of rotten eggs. Harry heard Dudley sigh in relief, Harry felt as if he were going to gag.


By the time Dudley had left the bathroom, Harry was turning blue from lack of oxygen, never knowing if he was ever going to be able to smell with his nose ever again.


As quietly as he could, Harry stepped out of the tub and resumed shaving the other half of his face. After putting the cream and razor away, Harry left Dudley’s room and dropped on his bed. Bringing his hand up to his chin, Harry felt smooth skin beneath his fingers. Grinning at his success, Harry sat up in his bed. Looking at his watch he saw it had only been fifteen minutes since he left to shave.


Harry stood and striped down to his boxers. After putting on some black socks, Harry pulled on the black dress pants and button up shirt. After trying to unsuccessfully trying to tame his hair, Harry pulled on a pair of slightly new black dress shoes that Dudley had tried on once, but they had been too small, so Petunia gave them to Harry.


After checking himself in the mirror, Harry thought he didn’t look that bad.


Harry never had much luck at the Dursleys. It was something he never had. The only luck he had been graced with was bad luck. And bad luck is what got him in this mess.


The evening had started out great. With Vernon telling lame jokes, Petunia kissing up to the boss’s wife, Dudley acting like a perfect little gentlemen, and Harry standing in the corner invisible until someone needed a refill.


But when Petunia entered the living room carrying a five layer cake, all hell had broken loose. A large, black owl had flown through the window, through the cake, and straight to Harry, dropping the letter at his feet.


The boss’s wife had had a fit, and ran, screaming, through the front door. It turned out as a bad stroke of luck that the wife was terrified of birds.


Vernon’s boss had simply stood there, and then turned and said, “I’ll talk to you about this tomorrow,” then ran out the door in search of his wife.


So here Harry was now, staring at his purple uncle and cake covered aunt, struggling not to crack up, even though he knew he was in deep trouble.


Vernon reached forward and grabbed a handful of Harry’s shirt. Pulling Harry to him close, so close Harry felt his uncle’s breath on his face.


Harry felt dread fill his body. He felt the grin fall off his face.


In a quiet, deadly whisper, Vernon said, “You have ruined this evening, you have ruined my life.”




Vernon’s voice level lowered again, “I don’t care what your freaky friends do, I’m going to hurt you so badly that they won’t be able to recognize you, got that freak.”


Harry swallowed fearfully. His uncle hadn’t laid a hand on him since he had gotten his letter to go to Hogwarts. His uncle looked dead serious. Harry had only one hope.


With a shaky voice, Harry said in a whisper, “If you hurt me, my godfather…”


He was interrupted when his uncle laughed. “Your dead godfather you mean?”


Harry’s eyes widened. How could he know? He never told anyone about Sirius’s death.


Harry struggled to get the words out. “How, how did you know?”


Vernon laughed again. “By the telly, you idiot. They have been announcing that your godfather has been dead for weeks.”


Vernon smirked, and then threw Harry into the mirror that hung in the hallway. Harry slumped to the floor, feeling warm flood flow freely from the back of his head.


Vernon looked at his wife, “Petunia, dear, please go to our room, I don’t want you to see this.”


Petunia nodded and left.


Vernon turned to look at his nephew. Grabbing Harry by the shirt collar, he lifted Harry off the floor, and then punched him in the face.





Harry struggled to open his eyes, but when he did, he was surrounded by a blanket of darkness. Where was he? All he could remember was passing out from his uncle’s merciless fists.

Harry felt numb, like he had lost all the feeling in his body. He couldn’t even twitch his fingers.

For a few minutes Harry struggled with his lack of feeling, until he finally managed to sit up.

Immediately he knew it was a terrible mistake on his part. Blood rushed to his head. His body was on fire.

He felt his ribs move with every movement, obviously broken and dislocated. Harry’s left knee is what worried him the most. Just by touching it he could feel his knee swollen to the size of a watermelon. He could feel it throbbing, sending pain waves through his body every second. He couldn’t even move it. Harry’s right eye was swollen shut, and he wasn’t sure but he thought he even broke his nose too.

Groaning, Harry managed to look at his watch that somehow managed to survive. The watch read midnight. It was the perfect time to leave, but the beating had left Harry almost entirely incapacitated. He would have to run completely on will for the next few hours.

Struggling to his feet, Harry made sure to keep all his weight off left leg. Slowly Harry felt around, and was somewhat overjoyed to find that his uncle had thrown him in his old "room".

Feeling around, Harry felt the handle on his trunk. He had snuck down before dinner had started and packed all his belongings that he was going to take. He had let Hedwig out, telling her to stay at the Weasley’s until he came to get her.

With all the strength he could muster, which was very little, Harry dragged the trunk to the door to his little room. Hesitantly, Harry grabbed the doorknob and pushed. The dolt of an uncle had forgotten to lock his door.

Once Harry got to the front door, he opened his trunk to find a black robe that had been Sirius’. Pulling the hood over his head, Harry limped outside and signaled for the Knight Bus.


Ginny Weasley woke with a start. Shaking her hair out of her eyes, she glanced at the clock in her room. Midnight. Why would she wake then, unless one of her brothers decided to risk their lives by waking her?

She heard a tapping sound and whipped around to look at her window. A white owl was outside her window carrying a letter.

“Hedwig!” she exclaimed in surprise. She had never received a letter from Harry before. Jumping out of bed, she quietly walked to the window and opened it. Hedwig flew in and settled on Ginny’s writing desk, sticking its leg out that held the letter.

Ginny untied the letter and opened it.


I know I have never written to you, but I need your help. I’m getting out of this place, and I have no where for Hedwig to go. Please care for her; she is very important to me. Tomorrow is the day I was supposed to write to the Order, but if my plans go right, I won’t be at that hellhole to write it. Please tell everyone not to worry. Wait on second thought, don’t, because then they will know you know something. Your probably wondering why I would write to you and not Hermione or Ron. Hermione would go to the adults, or worse, Dumbledore. And Ron, well, he couldn’t keep a secret from his mother, so I know I couldn’t. But since you grew up with six brothers, you would know how to keep a secret, plus, I trust you. Hope you are well.



Here is where I beg for reviews so here i go, Please please please review. Tell me if  it sucked or if you liked it.  imagine a  puppy with the  famouse puppy dog face.  thanks so much to  storylover3095 who made this work readable. 



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