Hi you guys, not sure if anyone will read this but if you do please review. This is the first story I have ever written and would really like some feedback! I most likely will continue this story but am not sure of an upload schedule, yet. It all depends on how you guys like it and how I like it. Anyways hope you enjoy and please be kind to yourselves!
Please note I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making anything off of this.

Harry nervously paced the perimeter of his room, awaiting his uncles return. His room, now barren of any objects that, in his uncle's mind, were considered luxuries. This includes his wardrobe, box spring and blankets; he was left with a towel, stained mattress and one moth eaten pillow.

How was he supposed to know that Aunt Marge had passed away. Now his uncle Vermon was taking his anger and regret out on Harry.

Yesterday had been his second day back "home" if that's what you would call it. No love, no comfort, no safety. When Harry had gotten off the train two days prior, with the guilt of all those that were lost this year in the final battle, he hadn't noticed his relatives changed demeanor. The aggression was just rolling off of them. As he walked through the door with his trunk and Hedwig's cage in tow he heard the familiar lecture of placing his trunk and any freaky items in his old room, the cupboard under the stairs. Harry then made his usual journey up the stairs to his room, where three new locks were added to the cluster, now making 7. His uncle quickly followed, after inspecting his trunk to make sure his wand was there. He watched his walrus of an uncle enter and close the door, now realizing there was a 4th lock added, a deadbolt, locked by key from the inside so no one could escape.

Red faced, he approached Harry not saying one word. Harry stood still, expecting a punch to the jaw, instead he was greeted with two meaty hands clamping around his neck. His uncle bared his teeth. Harry gasped for air as his arms and legs were kicking and clawing at anything and everything he could till he blacked out.

He was awoken by a cracking noise, slowly moving to see what it was, he realized with dread that it was his uncle whipping him with his belt. Harry thought how odd it was that he didn't feel the pain and just let the nothingness take over him.

The next day went much the same. The choking, the whipping, incessant name calling and then the blaming for his sister's death. At that moment Harry realized this summer was going to be his worst one yet. Not only will he be beaten and hunted for fun but also for the death of his aunt Marge. Another name to add to the list of people he has killed. Although it wasn't his fault, the heart attack just happened, but with his uncles yelling that it was his fault what was another name to add to the pile of people dying just because he was alive.

So now, here he is, pacing his room waiting for his aunt Petunia to unlock his door so he could make breakfast for the people he was supposed to call family.

The door clicked.

"You, freak, don't screw up breakfast or I'll have my way with you"
"Yes, aunt Petunia."

Harry quickly made his way out of his room and into the kitchen. He expertly gathered what he needed; eggs, salt, pepper, butter, bread and bacon. As he stretched for the pan he needed, a welt on his back split open leaving him with a throbbing sore that was bleeding all over his aunt's pristine kitchen.
"Shit" Harry whispered to himself as he noticed the blood trickling down his back and onto the floor.

He wiped it up and cracked the eggs, lost in a trance as the final battle played out in his mind.

"Come now Potter, let yourself die with dignity the way your precious godfather had." Harry's wand raised as if on command, an avada kedavra on his tongue, when Dumbledore appeared out of nowhere with Fawkes.

"Tom, how petty of you to go after a child"

They raised their wands in unison, both firing the unforgivable killing curse. Fawkes flew over to Harry's outstretched wand arm as an explosion erupted. A bright green haze lit the forest as shouts and screams of death eaters sounded around. Harry had been hit by a multitude of cutting curses, crucios and other curses. As the blizzard of green lifted from the forest Harry stumbled at the sight in front of him; both of them gone. Dumbledore and Voldemort were dead, lying in a motionless heap on the gravel.

The next thing Harry knew was that Fawkes was carrying him to the infirmary. Hogwarts, luckily, had not been damaged. The fight had not made it that far.

Madam Pomfrey was fussing over the multitude of order members and the unfortunate patrons that were in Hogsmeade that day. When Harry arrived, via Fawkes, she ran over. Worry and determination in her eyes.
"is he dead?"
Harry nodded with relief as what she had asked sunk in.
"Dumbledore as well" Harry whispered frantically as the matron was working on him. She paused for a second, then said "he was expecting to die Harry, it was his time. He was holding out his time till this moment." Harry nodded in understanding as exhaustion overtook him.

"POTTER!"

Harry turned around in time to see his aunt close in on him. He had been lost in thought and forgot to flip the now smoking egg.

She rushed over to him as he took the pan off the burner and ducking out of his aunt's way. He tried to run but his uncle was blocking his way. A sadistic grin playing on his lips as he pinned harry to the ground as Petunia took the pan.

"I'm sorry aunt Petunia, PLEASE DON'T" Harry whimpered as the smoldering hot pan was brought down onto his head. CRACK. Harry bit his cheek, preventing himself from screaming. His uncle released him. "Now what are you going to do freak?" Harry scurried away from them both into a corner caught between two ends of the counter, his head throbbing as a concussion sets in. He slowly stood, swaying as he went, trying to take the pan back to restart their breakfast but aunt Petunia took that moment to push Harry back onto the stove and holding his hand on the still red burner. Silent tears ran from his eyes.

"What's that smell mom?" Dudley waddled into the room. "Oh god, MOM HE'S POLUTING OUR AIR" Dudley charged ready to pummel his cousin into oblivion. However, at that moment Harry's magic lashed out. His family now lay stupefied on the kitchen floor.

Harry ran to his room.

Xxx

"Minerva, the board has appointed you to be headmistress" Flitwick states with a half grin on his tiny face.

"Thank you Filius. I just can't believe he's gone. After all these years of servitude to the order, to Albus and now both him and Voldemort are gone." Flitwick took her hand "at least we know we're safe now" He made his way to the door and departed.

McGonagall strode over to her new desk, the office seemed vacant and lonely as she transferred her belongings and transfiguring the godly coloured furniture into more warm tones when a knock sounded at her door.

"You wished to see me?" he drawled.

"Yes Severus, take a seat." McGonagall made her way through the mess that was now her office, filled with boxes and boxes of books and instruments to her desk.

She strummed her fingers through all of the paper work that she now had to take care of as headmistresses. Briefly looking up at the young man on the opposite side of her desk. "I have been appointed as headmistress and would like to appoint you to be my deputy" Severus inclined his head "If you wish Minerva." She handed him his pile of paper work and went back to his private quarters.

Xxx

He poured himself another glass of firewhiskey, looking over and signing all of the first year letters was a daunting task. 'Another bunch of idiots to enter the school, another bunch of troublemakers' Snape thought to himself as he gulped down another glass.

An owl arrived sometime between his 4 and 7 cup of firewhiskey. He looked at the seal and groaned, it was from the ministry. He placed the letter aside, vowing to open it tomorrow, not wanting to ruin his night further.

He calmly got up and went to bed and fell into a drunken sleep.

Xxx

Harry quickly made his way up to his room, knowing that when the spell wore off he'd be in for it, not that he didn't deserve it though. He'd screwed up, he always screws up. Stupid little freak that he is he mutters to himself. He hits himself in the face for his lack of attention when making breakfast and even more lack of control with his magic.

He hears rustling downstairs and lifts his head off of his moth eaten pillow and pushes aside his towel that he uses for a blanket. The door opens slowly, it's Dudley. Dudley widens his stance and pounces on Harry, who just sits there and willingly takes it, knowing that he deserves this beating. His cousin hits him till his fists are raw and sore. He left with a final kick to Harry's ribs.

The door locked and wasn't unlocked till the next morning.

Harry lay still awaiting his aunt's arrival to let him out to make breakfast for her and her husband and son. Harry himself hadn't had food for a day and a half now quickly approaching two days.

When she did open his door, not a word was spoken. He made his way downstairs as quietly as possible and he was on a mission today. He would make up for his bad behaviour yesterday. To be honest he was surprised it was only Dudley who visited him the other day, he was expecting the lot of them to be up and beat some sense into him to teach him a lesson.

The eggs were done and his stomach growled as the bacon was placed on the plate next to the eggs but he didn't even dare take a second look at the food, not today. He had messed up big time the other day and he remembered other summers of going on little food as well, he could take two days without food. He quickly scampered outside to begin his list of chores.

The solitude the outdoors brought did not last long, his uncle Vernon came outside and leaned in closely. He whispered "if you try anymore funny business that bird of yours will be dead and you'll never see the daylight again. You got that boy?!" he grunted at the end of that sentence almost longing to beat the boy with the shovel he was currently using to dig up weeds. Harry felt his breath stop, Hedwig. He frantically nodded his head "yes sir" and got back to work.

He worked for a solid 4 hours, still no food or water, the sun was piercing him with it's intense rays. Harry moved to the shed and sat down for a second to catch his breath. 'I miss you Sirius' harry thought to himself. He sat there for what felt like hours, realistically it was only two minutes, when he caught sight of it. The blade glinting, even in the shade, as if it were calling his name. Harry took two long strides over to the door of the shed where the scissors were hanging up. He rhythmically opened the scissors and took one blade in hand, blindly staring at it. Oh how he missed his trunk with his usual pair but this pair of scissor will have to do, at least now he won't have to cut his leg. He smiled as he brought the blade down slowly then fluidly pressed it to his skin. The sting came, then, his utter relief. The tingle of satisfaction ran through his body. He watched as a small stream of blood bubbled to the surface and coloured his now burnt skin a deep red. He wiped his wrist onto his dirty pants and headed back out, ready to concur the summer.