Hello Everyone! It's been a long time but I'm finally back. I've decided to rewrite my stories starting with this one…but wait! there's more! For only a portion of your time you can get…

Okay seriously I read this poor excuse for a story and decided that I could do better because I know how much I love to read a good story and how I become terribly upset when a good plot is put to waste. So I'd like to apologize to anyone that had a nervous breakdown or chewed their poor little fingernails until they cracked their teeth. To all the people that took the time to email me and beg me to continue writing…I deeply apologize and humbly ask for your forgiveness.

I just got my friend to write that sentence asking for forgiveness because I'm far too arrogant to ever do it myself. :D Hence the nail biting and nervous breakdowns you guys are havingall over my wittle story.

Without further ado……

Summary: After GOF Harry is blamed for a crime he didn't commit and sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss. Betrayed by all those he loved what will happen when the boy-who-lived is saved by an enemy forced into hiding? HP/SS will be slash!

Prologue: A Wizard in Muggle London

The sun shone brightly in the sky that day pouring its smoldering rays onto a large construction site currently filled with the sounds of drills, hammering, and hollering voices. The heat that year had risen to an all time high breaking the record set nearly one hundred and fifty years ago, and many of the men working tediously to get their job done were ready to call it quits and resign without a paycheck.

One young worker especially resented his job. Sitting saddle style on a large metal beam that was being hoisted into the air by a large crane, the young man paid no attention to the streets two hundred feet below him and picked up the heavy welding machine he had been assigned in order to connect two monstrous metal beams together.

He had been out in the sun for hours that day already, and his already near mocha tan would soon become even darker, contrasting with his fine silvery blonde hair. The finely bleached strands (as most of the muggle world believed them to be) cascaded out of their tie and down to the middle of the young man's back.

He stopped momentarily to wipe a few beads of sweat off his forehead and sighed before lying down on the beam to take a short rest. It had been three years since he'd taken the job in his desperation to survive in the muggle world. With an education that stopped promptly after primary school there wasn't much for him to choose from.

"Hey pretty boy Parker get a move on it!" a deep barricading voice bellowed down from the ground where his supervisor walked around with the loud speaker. "We don't have all day! Move your arse before you get yourself fired!"

Heaving another miserable sigh the young man of eighteen years sat back up and reached for the walky-talky clipped to his belt and yelled into it.

"For the last time stop calling me that, Spenster! And if you can find someone else on this site willing to stay 200 hundred feet in the air all day then be my guest and fire me!" he sneered and rolled his eyes when he received no response.

After a few long minutes of just sitting there instead of hearing for an answer by walky-talky he heard the same loud speaker flare up and his supervisors scraggly voice call up to him.

"You must not be getting paid enough money with that rock band of yours Parker, despite what people say 'bout it, otherwise you wouldn't be here right now! Now I'm giving you one more chance Damian, god knows you've had enough! Get a bloody move on it and remember if it weren't for my generosity you that you'd be on the streets right now!"

It seemed that his widowed supervisor still took a liking in trying to humiliate him and lately he hadn't been letting up a gram.

"Asshole." Damian murmured to himself setting his concentration back on welding the two great metal beams together. It was true that ever since he had escaped the world that had betrayed him he had no place to go. Being a boy of only fifteen there weren't many opportunities open and neither school nor an orphanage were any kind of option for him. Fortunately he had stumbled upon Jim and Amelia Spenster shortly after running away. They were a rather young, married couple without any children of their own but despite their age they graciously took him into their home. Or at least Amelia had. Jim sniped throughout the whole ordeal.

The Damian's chest flared whenever he thought about Amelia Spenster. She had been fond of him the moment she laid eyes on him and he loved her immediately. It was hard not to love a woman like Amelia. Although she wasn't a ravishing beauty, she was comely and had a heart of gold. The woman had been generous enough to take in a street urchin that nearly succeeded in snatching her own handbag. There were too few people in the world that were as selfless as she was.

It was a tragedy when cancer had eaten away at her body ending her young life of only 28 years just 12 months ago. Damian had since been left to live with her husband. Despite hisdislikeof Jim he couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He'd never find another woman like Amelia. She was too good for him to begin with, she was too good for either of them.

Now the only reminder that Damian had of his adopted mother was his prized Fender guitar and sheet music that had rescued him from a deep depression and let him express his anger through music. And through his music he drew three other musicians to himself to form a local band.

They weren't widely known but in certain circles in England and far more circles in the media the name Damian Parker was well recognized and associated with the muggle rock band The Damned. Albums were already being sold all over London and surrounding parts of England. Unfortunately his face was on covers of nearly every teen magazine in the area.

Pretty boy Parker indeed. He mused to himself.

Fame would always follow him. In the muggle world fame wasn't quite the curse it was in the wizarding world. In the wizarding world his fame was followed by death and destruction. In the muggle, by enthusiasm and charisma. Great things were tied to his destinylike the precious blood that ran through his veins.

"I expect great things from you Mr. Potter. After all You-Know-Who did great things. Terrible, but great."

However Damian as he now called himself wouldn't have to deal with the greater of those things for a while. Thanks to the man that helped him escape, he lived a new life now. A world free from back shattering burdens and megalomaniacs that wanted to kill him and take over the world.

It was almost humorousthat he was sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss by the people that should have loved him and rescued and given life by the man that should hate him most of all. That is to say, it was humorous in a completely ironic and twisted sense. And who better at being twisted than he?

He broke from his thoughts when he finished the job he was assigned. The weld he created was neat and strong. Perfect as always.

"Hey Norberg, I'm done here, you can lower me down." He spoke into his walky- talky turning the channel to correspond with the driver operating the crane.

Slowly he was lowered and Damian jumped off onto one of the rafters against the nearly constructed building once he was close enough and lowered himself down to the ground. Wiping the sweat off his forehead again and taking off the hard hat he was wearing Damian shook his silvery blonde hair and threw the hat down onto the ground in front of Jim Spenster. He spit in it before looking directly into the older man's eyes.

Many of the workers had stopped their activities to look on with widened eyes marveling at the boy's audacity.

"Goodbye Jim, I quit. It was nice knowing you while I could but I have better things to do than get yelled at all day." He simply said keeping his eyes trained on the other man's brown ones which, hardened noticeably.

"Your things better be gone by the time I get home." The other man said making sure Damian knew that his presence would no longer be tolerated. He turned his eyes from the bright emerald of the young man's. Maybe with the boy gone he could finally start to move on and letAmelia go.

Nodding and turning on his heel, Damian set off after throwing the shirt that had been hanging from his belt back on. He was nearly out of hearing range when Jim's voice called to him.

"Oh and Parker, I may not have like you but Amelia did." he left a long pause at which point the blonde stopped in his tracks and listened without turning around. "For her sake Parker…Damian, I wish you good luck."

"Thank you…and good luck to you as well." The young man threw over his shoulder after a long silence and continued on his way in slightly lighter spirits. Hearing catcalls and the loud clapping arising from the construction site he had just been on Damian turned and took a mock bow letting his hair fall in front of his face and tossed it back when straightening back up. He pumped a fist into the air and laughed merrily like any other teenager would.

"Long lived Rock n' Roll!" he yelled just like at his performances throughout the many nightclubs of London hoping that all the acquaintances he'd made there would remember him as he was that day, proud and happy.

People all over the street turned to look at him and point him out in recognition, others simply ignored him and moved on not sparing another glance as the young man kept walking in the opposite direction of the construction site.

There was one set of pale yellow eyes, however, that watched from a dark alley between two tall buildings. Those eyes had once watched before, as the same boy made an escape from his home at the young age of 13 and now the situation was nearly the same. He was silently watching another escape.

The tall blonde seemed truly happy this time, happier than he'd ever been in the wizarding world, healthier and livelier. The face and body may have changed but the figure easily recognized the same enigmatic scent that lured him to the boy when he was younger. In its mature form it was almost impossible for him to miss.

It was tough to find someone in the muggle world, especially without any sources to go by, but once he stumbled onto the blonde's trail the dark figure in the shadows knew he was exactly who he was looking for.

Still keeping his eyes carefully trained the figure was relieved the boy didn't take a muggle cab like the owner of the pale yellow eyes expected him to but instead, turned the corner on a nearby street and kept walking. It would be easier to follow him if the boy was on foot. Easier to confront him and convince him to forgive him for themistake he had made three years ago.

Their world had made agrievous mistake. His was the worst yet. After having been familiar with the same situation he still turned his back on the young man. Now it was time to try for another chance and bring their hero, their only hope back to fight an evil consuming the nation.

But would the young man want to come back after being betrayed so brutally, and by the people that should have loved him? Harry Potter wasn't exactly known to let go of grudges.

Damian walked along a few streets into the direction that he took almost every day for the past 12 months. There was a nearby graveyard he visited often and the smooth sidewalk he followed was deserted this time of day. Whoever he felt was following him was failing miserably at trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible.

His senses had never failed him before and the aura surrounding the person was definitely magical. Not a weak magic aura either, someone strong. Strong and strangely familiar.

So they've finally found me? Took those incompetent foolslong enough. Hethought to himself continuing on his way as if nothing unusual was occurring. Figuring that the wizarding world finally noticed their owls were no use since each ended up getting lost and sent back the same as the last with the message remaining unopened. It doesn't matter. I won't go back for all the gold in Gringotts. Theirs was a betrayal unlike any other.

They condemned me for a crime I didn't commit, nearly killed me, and never even thought to examine any evidence, never even wanted to hear my side of the story. They all just bloody well assumed! Well Voldemort can kill them for all I care! And they can assume whatever they want. I have no faith left in their world. I'll never forgive and i'll certainly never forget. He continued to trudge on with his hands clenched into tight fists. The sun started to sink lower in the sky signaling it was getting late and he was nearly at his destination.

With the reminder of what he left behind following him, Damian started to recount the events that occurred approximately three years ago on his fifteenth birthday when his life had suddenly turned upside down. Absent mindedly he rubbed the stinging flesh on his forehead where a small token of his troubled life remained carefully hidden.

TBC...

So what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know…my ego needs to be fed! It's an emaciated ego at the moment. My muse will feed off of the ego boosts you give me and in turn I'll get my lazy arse to write more :D

11-8-05