|Sanctuary|

Chapter One

"BOY!" a loud voice bellowed from downstairs, loud footsteps indicating that the man the voice belonged to was now thundering up the stairs.

"I'm coming!" another voice called as softer footsteps pattered across the floor and a small waif of a boy stood in front of the 'giant' man. Which was a rather apt description of Vernon Dursley, who's face was a puce color from his yelling.

"I've been calling you for the last five minutes!" the large man snapped at the smaller boy, and he flinched away. "Go and make dinner, NOW!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," the boy said quietly before carefully maneuvering around his heavy set uncle. A elbow in the gut caught him off guard and he gasped, just barely managing to keep himself from falling down the stairs.

"Do not let this happen again, freak," Vernon snapped before shoving the small boy out of his way as he stamped down the stairs and into the living room.

A sigh escaped Harry Potter's lips. This wasn't the first time he'd been ordered around, but it seemed that lately his Uncle had been getting more adventurous with his punishments. When he was a child, he'd get a smack here and there, but now... He walked downstairs and slipped silently into the kitchen.

"About time you got down here, freak," Petunia Dursley said with a sneer. "Hurry up and finish cooking, and then afterwards go into your room. I don't want to see your face downstairs tonight. We have company coming over."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry murmured before going about making his relatives their dinner. He assumed that the company they were having over involved their new neighbors. He'd never seen them, as they seemed to rarely leave the house, so he idly wondered how his aunt had managed to coerce them into coming over for a 'spot of tea'. He snorted quietly. They'd likely scare them off, otherwise these people were probably just like his relatives.

He finished making dinner quickly and set the table for three. He knew he wouldn't be eating tonight, but nonetheless, while cleaning up the mess he'd made, he quickly gulped down quite a bit of water from the sink. He knew better then to take any food. He'd tried that once already this summer and it hadn't gone well. His Aunt was keeping an eye on how much food they had.

After cleaning up and filling his empty stomach with water so he wouldn't feel so hungry, he left the kitchen and stood just outside of the living room. "Dinner's finished," he said quietly, but loud enough for the three sitting on the couch to hear. He got a sharp nod in response from his Aunt before he turned and walked back upstairs.

It didn't take him long to reach his room and he sighed before closing his door. Sleep would probably be a good idea. He sent the empty cage in his otherwise barren room a sad look. Hedwig. She'd starved to death two weeks ago because his uncle had put a padlock on her cage. Harry wished he'd known that his Uncle was going to do such a dreadful thing; he would've left her with Hagrid.

A sigh followed his morose thoughts and he glanced outside his window momentarily. Supposedly, he was being looked after by the Order. But he'd seen hide nor hair of them anywhere. He didn't think they were doing such a fantastic job at 'guarding' him. But he supposed they only thought of the things that could get him from outside the house... Never would anyone think that the people he needed saving from, were the people that should have been protecting him. His relatives. He frowned. Yeah, some family they were. He doubted that the blood wards attached to this house even worked anymore. As far as he'd read, they worked based on the amount of love the family had toward one another, or that no one without his familial blood could enter this house if they meant to harm him. But what happened at the end of his fourth year canceled that out. Voldemort had used his blood to come back. Which made the ward absolutely useless. And his family and him... Well, love wouldn't be a term he'd use.

The door bell ringing knocked him from his thoughts and he sighed before laying down on his cot. It was very uncomfortable; springs dug into his back, and what little padding there may have been at one point was falling out the end.

Just as he was closing his eyes, there was a yell and a scream from downstairs. Harry shot up in bed and looked at his door, frowning. "The hell was that?"

Slowly, Harry got up from his bed before pulling loose the floorboard beneath it, grabbing his invisibility cloak and his wand. Both of which he'd managed to hide before his uncle could take them and toss them in the cupboard under the stairs with his trunk. He slipped the holly wand into the waistband of his belted pants, clutching his invisibility cloak tightly in the palm of his hand before he quietly made his way over to his door.

Harry opened it carefully; he didn't want to make a sound in case something had happened. He knew that putting the cloak on might be a smart idea, but he didn't want to just in case it was his relatives being 'rowdy'. Which he doubted, very much.

Looking over the banister, he paled at the sight that met him. His cousin's glassy eyes stared up at him from the base of the stairs, and he could vaguely hear a male voice speaking to someone in the living room. His Aunt and Uncle were no where to be seen.

This, he mused, was not looking good. Harry slipped his cloak on carefully, making sure it covered him from head to toe before he made his way down the stairs; stepping over his cousins dead body. He followed the sounds of the voices and peaked around the corner. While he knew no one could see him, he also knew that there were those that could sense him. He still wasn't quite sure how Dumbledore did it.

Two black cloaked forms stood over his trembling Aunt; his Uncle was pinned up in a crucifix position on the wall. Harry knew just from looking at the bloodied body of Vernon Dursley that he was very much dead. He couldn't help but be satisfied at the way that his Uncle had died, though he was quickly disgusted with himself. Where had that come from?

One of the figures began speaking to his Aunt, and it was clear from the annoyance in the man's tone that he'd asked this question several times. "Where are they? Your nephew and niece. I suggest you tell me now before I get very upset."

Petunia Dursley spat at him, quite literally, and the glob of saliva landed on the end of the man's cloak. "I will never tell you."

Harry was surprised by his Aunt's unwillingness to tell them where he was... But niece? What were they talking about? He didn't have a sister, and as far as he knew, Lily Evans was Petunia's only sibling.

"One last chance," a mocking voice that Harry immediately recognized came from the other hooded figure. Bellatrix Lestrange. The bitch that had killed his godfather.

"Serenity is safe from you fools, and so is Harry. You will never find them. I've made absolutely sure of it," Petunia spoke coldly, and it was clear to Harry that she was lying. She'd told him nothing of this, nor had she mentioned anything about someone named 'Serenity'. He wondered if that was the mysterious 'niece' they'd mentioned.

"Huh, to bad then," the man said before pointing his wand at her forehead. Petunia Dursley turned her gaze toward where Harry was standing and mouthed one word before a dark green light hit her; and she was dead.

'Run.'