Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters that have been mentioned in J.K Rowling's books. I also don't own any of the places mentioned in the books. Any other details are products of my imagination. (I do wish I owned some of the characters though...sees Harry and drools)

A man sat in his bed, staring into space. Ever since he had gotten home from school he spent his time staring aimlessly out the window with glazed normally lively emerald green eyes. Now, they would seem to an observer the old, worn eyes of someone who had lived a long hard life. Yet the puzzling thing about this is that the man looked to be no more than 16. However, this young man was no normal boy, he was the Boy Who Lived, the defeater of You Know Who, and the Crazy Little Boy Talking of the Once Again Rise of the Dark Lord. In the past two years, he had gone from savior of the wizard world to a raving dangerous juvenile. He had lost his only family, his now deceased godfather, the supposed deadly murderer Sirius Black. His view of his dead father had also drastically changed from his idol to that of a man he didn't wish to become. Yet the biggest event over the two years, was what left our friend isolated in his room, ignoring the owls of his friends and from going outside the walls of a house he once considered a prison of sorts. He had learned of a prophecy that involved him and a certain Dark Lord. He had discovered that he would have to either become a murderer or be murdered himself, bringing a new meaning to kill or be killed. Only one could survive, and the results would effect everyone in the world, wizard and muggle alike. This boy was one Harry James Potter. Now let our story begin.

Harry sat staring at a crack in the wall in his room. Well or at least that is what it would look like he was doing, since he seemed to be focusing on that spot. Yet Harry's mind was not busy contemplating the crack in the other wise perfect wall. He was however thinking upon more important matters. Like will I live to graduate Hogwarts? How many people I love will have to die before this is over. Will I ever have the chance to get a proper kiss before I die? So many things were flying threw his mind at once that he was lost in his own world.

Ever since that day in Dumbledore's office he had felt like no one could ever touch him again. He felt isolated in a way no one could understand. He had no choice in what he did in his life because he was destined to kill the Dark Lord. He would have to become a murderer to save everyone else in the end. He also thought about the other option in this mess of stress. The newly revived Voldemort could end up victor and kill him instead. Oh, he really loved the choices he was given. Either way he lost somehow or someway.

He had only been home for three weeks and yet it would seem he was in the same position as he was the very day he returned. He only left his room to go to the bathroom or eat, which he didn't do much of anymore these days. When his aunt or uncle would come and yell for him to do things, he would say no. Of course they wouldn't take that as an answer so he was forced to threaten them, rotating with hexing them, saying he didn't care about the consequences, and owling Sirius that he was unhappy. Harry, of course, wished he would be able to owl Sirius whether to complain or just ask him anything at all. After threatening them with owling Sirius, he would crawl under the covers and cry himself into a fitful sleep. Harry did receive owls, of course, asking how he was from his two closest friends Ronald Weasely and Hermione Granger. He also got owls from his friend, the Keeper of the Keys and teacher of Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts, Hagrid. When the first few arrived, Harry opened them, read them, and then chucked them. They were all the same, asking if he was alright, did he need anything, and telling him how things were going at the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters. Harry laughed when he saw they were asking how he was. Sure they weren't aware of the prophecy, but still the only family he ever knew and cared about had died leaving him alone. What did they want him to say and do? How did they think he was going to feel, cheerful? They could get and do nothing for him, heck they couldn't even understand what he was going through. So here he was, the great Harry Potter sitting alone, in the dark, with red tear stained eyes, staring at a tiny crack in the wall. Oh how the mighty have fallen, he thought.

Harry lay in his bed tossing and turning with visions of a horrible fate flashing in his dreaming mind. He saw Voldemort killing his friends, one by one, as they tried to protect him from danger. Each one vanishing in a flash of eerie green light with haunting laughter being heard in the background. Hermione, Ron, Hagrid, Dumbledore, even Snape all gone, leaving him alone. His last vision before waking was of his parents being killed as well by the blinding green light. Voldemort chanting in the background, "I will make you lose all you love" over and over again.

Harry woke with a start from a large wave of pain from his scar. He wiped his hair out of his eyes to discover it soaked in his sweat. He was covered in it and shaking as if cold. He slowly moved his hand to his scar, which ever since he had been 'home' had been constantly stinging. Every time he would wake up from horrible pain in his scar not letting him see if there was more to his dreams. Was he finished off as well in the dream, he often wondered to himself, feeling small and weak, like the first time he walked into the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Harry sighed and put his glasses on. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't allow anyone he cared about to get hurt by trying to protect him. It was supposedly his job to finish Voldemort off, and he wasn't going to risk anyone else's life in the process. After tonight's dream he would not be haunted by visions of his friends dying before him or of him failing to defeat the powerful Dark Lord. He made the decision that he would go away so as that no one would get hurt because of him. He didn't want to be the great hero everyone thought he was supposed to be, he just wanted to be a normal teen, worrying about girls and playing all the quidditch his heart desired. So he would run away, away from the stress, away from his friends who were in danger because of him, and most of all away from Voldemort.

Harry wasn't sure where to head to, he had never been farther than England himself. He also had no idea how he was to get anywhere. He couldn't very well take his time traveling to where ever he was going to end up, since he was being monitored by the order. He would have to take the night bus to Gringotts, exchange his money for muggle money, and then get out of there as fast as he could. If they realized he was gone they would surely track him down, and if he was still close by then, they would get him in no time flat. He doubted the Dursleys would report him missing. They would most likely be celebrating if anything, especially after his threats the past few weeks. No, he would have to find another way to get away from them all.

Harry went to collect his things. He packed everything he wished to take with him in his trunk and attached Hedwig's cage to the trunk. Hedwig could tell that her master wasn't in a good mood so she stayed silent, watched him move about the room as stealthily as he could. When Harry had collected everything, he slowly made his way down the stairs. Over the years he had become stronger from the Quidditch, so was he able to more easily get the trunk down the stairs without making too much noise, so as to not alert the Durselys. Once he was safely down the stairs Harry walked to the front door and opened it. He walked onto the front step and took one last long look back, then turned around sharply and shut the door with a small click. He walked to the curb and held out his wand just like in his 3rd year, but hopefully this time without being almost run over. He waited a few seconds and nothing happened, and Harry didn't know what he was to do if he couldn't get the Knight Bus. Just as he was about to lower his wand there was a loud boom followed by blinding lights. Harry quickly stepped further away from the street and watched as the bus stopped directly in front of him. The doors slowly opened to reveal Stan the man who worked on the Knight bus. Harry slowly walked out of the shadows and said in a slightly shaky voice, "I need to get to Diagon Alley, as quickly as you can please."

I want to continue writing this so please tell me what you think...This story is most likely going to be a Draco/Harry romance just to warn you all ahead of time. I also like Harry/Hermione, but as far as this story I don't think that is the right direction R&R please!!

Yours Truly, MoonTenshi23