A/N: Sooo, I decided to do a rewrite. The original chapters sounded kind of different from my style of writing now, and had A LOT of grammatical errors. This chapter isn't much better, but eh, it will do. I was going to wait to update until I had the first 3 chapters all done, but I decided against it. So here it is, hope you like it! (For those that have read this already: It's not much different from the original, it just has different wording and grammaticism. All the same events happen in each chapter. So, you don't really have to read it.)

P.S- Still looking for a muse/beta!

Summary: Takes place after 5th book. After Sirius dies, Harry leaves the Wizarding World, begins living in a shady London drug den, and becomes an addict. When brought back home, can he transition into his old life with new ways? Will someone new take notice of this darker, tougher Harry? Slash. DM/HP fic.

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable. The delicious world of Harry Potter belongs all to the lovely Ms. Rowling.

Chapter 1: The Change

Harry let out a breath, long and deep, as the needle sank into his arm, releasing the amber substance. He could feel that glorified secretion, trickling through his veins like itching fingers, fast and slow all at once. It branched down his arms, engulfing his chest and eating at his heart, as he let his eyes flutter shut, raven black head of hair rest against the wall behind him, and took in a rattling breath. Screaming sounded outside his room, along with banging a few seconds later that shook the blank white walls around him. Soon it all became muffled as the heroin crowded his senses, filling his ears and eyes and nose, and running down in tiny rivulets across his face, his hands, his chest, his whole body. The handle on the door shook.

He ignored it, lying down on the floor, spread eagle on his back, a smile playing on his lips as he became engulfed in bliss.

Harry woke several hours later, his mouth dry and ears ringing. The sun was low, throwing mutinous rays through the fraying curtains and glinting off the jagged broken glass of one of the windowpanes.

He got up, stretched with cracking bones, and made his way over to the door, tripping over a body on the way. The figure was cloaked in dark brittle hair, spilled all over the floor like a dropped can of Coke. It was just Ruby; she'd always find some way into his room, locked or not. They slept together a lot, keeping each other company when the cold wind whistled through the broken place they called a residence. They weren't friends; Harry could truly say he wasn't "friends" with anyone he had met and lived with over the past few months. Things just didn't run that way in this house. But he and Ruby had a bond, the type that forges between two people when you share your first hit of heroin together.

He bent down stiffly, and turned her over. She was face down in a pool of her own sick, eyes closed almost peacefully, and cheeks ruddy as if she had ran a mile before collapsing in the middle of his room. Disgusting. Her pulse was normal and her breathing shallow but there, so he dragged her out of the smelly pool before heading out into the hall. The smell of stale cigarettes and trash made his stomach turn. The whole place made his stomach turn. He felt in his pocket for the two quid he had left, knowing that would get him nothing. He would have to work for his fix today.

"Bloody skeleton." came a low growl to his right, and he turned around to see Liam's face sticking out of his bedroom door, skin covered in angry sores and eyes permanently glazed over.

"Shove it." Harry replied weakly, momentarily wanting to throttle him. Harry was fully aware of how awful he looked. He could barely look in the mirror, knowing he'd see the dark shadows under his eyes, the constant pallor, and the bones sticking out of his skin. He was disgusting, just like the rest of them.

Liam managed to shoot him a concerned look through his broken state, shaking his bushy, tawny head, reminding Harry of someone he knew. Used to know, he corrected himself mentally. "Get in."

The darkened room smelled like sweet burning rubbing. A girl sitting on Liam's lumpy mattress let her attention shift to him for one moment, frantic eyes telling her whole story, before dropping them back down to the cocaine burning in her hands. Harry sprawled out on the bed next to her not caring he didn't know her. All she cared about was what was in her hands. She was clinging onto it like it was a lifeline pulling her out from sea, or an anchor keeping her grounded, and he knew exactly how she felt. He was nothing without his heroin and he knew it. Sure, he knew his body could survive without it, but his mind at this point couldn't. His mind needed it and craved it. He wasn't one to disappoint.

Liam collapsed on the bed next to them, shoving a McDonald's burger into his hands. "Eat." He ordered, shivering, although the stuffy room was anything but cold. Liam was sick. Hell, they were all sick. Every one of them was dying slowly, killing them self more every day. But Liam was the worst. He was thoroughly broken.

"No." Harry pushed the burger back, but a shove returned it along with an answering cough, one that made Liam sound like he was drowning.

"Not hungry. Eat, you git." Liam replied, sitting back on his hands and surveying Harry once, twice, three times over. "You need to eat, you're looking right sickly. How're you going to make money if no one wants to touch you?" Harry threw him a murderous look, which softened as Liam gave another watery cough that made his stomach twist, so he crammed the burger into his mouth. It was cold, greasy, and cheap tasting, like the kind you get off the savers menu. Liam smiled at him, his grey-blue eyes focusing for a moment and becoming intense. His eyes strangely reminded him of someone. Someone who had died with laughter in those similar eyes. Harry's stomach flopped and he could taste the greasy burger at the back of his throat.

His mental walls were up in a millisecond, blocking out the images flooding in from his past, before he jumped up, mumbling some jumbled excuse and fleeing, out the door and out of the apartment.

Harry shoved his hands further into his tattered jacket, before stepping out into the harsh December wind. He could almost feel the fresh and crisp tenner he had just earned, like a weight in his pocket, a reminder of what he had been reduced to so that he could procure his fix. A common whore.

He supposed he didn't mind all too much; most people in the house tricked for their money, and most did much more than he ever would. It had taken him a while to get used to the heady scent and rough touches of a man, since most "prospects", as Liam called them, were men.

"It's only a matter of time before you begin to enjoy it, love." Liam's voice murmured, as flashes of harsh fingers and darkened eyes flew through his mind. And the bastard turned out to be right. As always.

"...love."

He supposed it had been a while since he had begun to separate love and sex as two completely different things. He had always thought of sex as something sacred, something to share with only a true lover; something sweet and delicious. But all of that had changed. Sex was now a device used to make money, money used to buy what he actually saw as love. Heroin was love.

He flipped his collar up as light rain began to fall, side-stepping little children and their mothers enjoying Christmas shopping. The holiday was a little over two weeks away and it'd be his first spending it alone in six whole years. He scowled up at a cheery mechanical Santa Claus in a store window and made a beeline for the nearest fast food joint.

Remus Lupin sat alone in an empty Muggle fast food restaurant, grease slick in the air. It was hot and stuffy, making him feel almost claustrophobic. Rain beat against the flushed windows, mechanical beeps and bangs of the machinery in the kitchen accompanying it. Six months had passed since anyone had last seen Harry. Six months of searching in vain. Six months the wizarding world had gone without their "Golden Boy". Remus was at his wits end. He didn't know where else to look, who else to talk to. The fiery fervor that he first began his search with was dimming, like smoldering ashes in a grate.

Six months ago, Remus showed up at the Dursley's place, thrilled to be picking up Harry, only to be told by that whale of a man that his charge had apparently left, just left, without any word or notice to anyone. Left behind was a room that looked as if no one had ever lived there, some personal belongings of his underneath a floor board, and a ripped pieced of parchment containing one line:

'I'm going into the Muggle world. Don't look for me.'

- Harry

Of course, first reaction was to think this was some scheme Voldemort thought up, that he somehow breeched the blood wards around Number 4 Privet Drive. After a while, it had become apparent that was not the case. It became clear that Harry left of his own free will.

Remus knew Harry didn't want to be found. That much was obvious. Nevertheless, that still didn't stop him from searching. He wanted to find Harry just to shake sense into that boy. The Muggle world wasn't where he belonged. He would have to realize that.

But now, he believed he was giving up. He was letting go of his last string to the past, and what he had once hoped, his future. He let his head fall into his hands.

"Can I just have a double cheeseburger off the savers menu please?" The voice rang out behind him, scratchy, but achingly familiar.

Amber eyes rose to fix on the figure at the cashier. He was strikingly frail looking, but almost delightfully so, with a certain grace that set heavy in his thin bones. His skin was pale, and he could see half of a sunken cheek and high cheekbone. A shock of ink black hair capped off the figure, and when he turned around, dull green eyes locked onto his. A missed heartbeat later, and Harry fled.

Rain beat down against him, pummeling him into the ground as Harry fled out into the street. He didn't go too far until a gentle but strong hand wrapped around his forearm. The musky scent of earth assailed his nose as he was pulled under a canopy of the closest store. The grip let go of him and he found himself staring up into the wide amber eyes of Remus Lupin. He flinched away, indignation crossing his features. Remus' face was heavy set with lines and more grey then ever sprinkled through his brown hair. He looked horrible.

"Yes?" Harry asked, forcing annoyance in his tone, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Remus' amber eyes widened in surprise. His mouth opened and closed as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Harry thought he looked like a fish. Finally, after a few minutes of floundering on Remus' part and Harry's agitated sighs, Remus spoke. "Harry…Where have you been? Are you alright!?" His voice cracked, becoming louder and faster, like rushing water. "I've been looking for you for months and months and…Why did you leave?"

Harry stayed silent, annoyance in his eyes. They stared hard at each other before Lupin broke the silence. "Here," He said handing the food to Harry lightly, "I thought it would be better that your money not go to waste." Harry took the package slowly, before quickly shoving it into his coat pocket not taking his eyes off Lupin. Another moment passed before Lupin started again.

"Harry, I-." He began, before Harry's risen hand cut him short.

Harry swallowed hard before his voice was able to come out again. "Two o'clock tomorrow, here, alright?" he said harshly. Remus' eyes widened, being taken in surprise, before he vigorously shook his head yes.

"Great." Harry spat out, turned on his heel, and left.

What do you think? Better? Worse? Tell me in reviews!

~Aiko Ryu