Hello everybody! I'm back :) I'm incredibly ashamed that I haven't finished my other stories *Hides face* but hopefully I may finish them this summer...maybe? (Okay, I know I said that last summer, but that is not the point!)

Anyway, here is a brand new fanfic up for your fancy :D
I'm not completely happy with the first chapter here, mainly because it doesn't really explain what the story is really about, but I'm hoping the next few chapters will link you guys in!

So tell me what you think, because you're opinion really does matter to me! Is it worth continuing, or should I do a ditch and dash?

Grey Clouds lingered up above.

The wind swept his mop of black hair, making it more ruffled than usual. Misty eyes gazed over the abandoned park in Little Whinging. The swings creaked as a gush of wind attacked upon the park. But the boy wasn't there. Physically he was, but his mind was replaying the events of previous night again and again.

"SIRIUS!"

He woke up in a cold sweat. Beads dripping off his head, and his hair damp. He brushed his fringe out of his eyes, which briefly showed his raw red scar on his forehead.

"BOY! What have I told you about waking us up in the middle of the night!"

In a sudden panic, Harry scrambled off the bed only to find himself in a heap on the floor, his bed sheets wrapped hazardously around his trembling legs.

"What are you playing at BOY?" A booming voice echoed through the room, as he turned and saw a large figure blocking the doorway. The landing light could just be seen just behind the large blob of a man, making a silhouette which terrified the boy even more.

The next few minutes are a haze as punches are thrown and aggressive threats are announced over and over. Yet the boy doesn't retaliate, as he knows he can't. He can only sit there and endure the pain which seems to be pounding through his whole body.

He sighs, lowering his eyes to the floor. Life couldn't get any worse. Not only had his godfather died, he had now been sent back to the Dursley's. And they were worse than ever.

"Oi! Potter! Hahaha." A voice shouted from across the park, to the broken gate. Harry looked up and saw Dudley Dursley hanging out with his crew. This is all I need, Harry thought.

"Awww, look at him. All by himself. No different than usual of course, he's always been a freak." Dudley continued, sneering.

Harry got to his feet unsteadily before leaving out of the other gate quickly, he was in no mood for Dudley's behaviour today, or any day at all really. Before leaving he was sure he heard Dudley insult him one more time, but didn't have the energy to even care. Instead he concentrated on ignoring the persistent ache in his chest from one of Uncle Vernon's hits last night.

He stumbled along, idly, for the next few minutes. Just trying to clear out his mind from guilty and depressing thoughts. A few drops of rain landed on his neck, making him break out in goosebumps. Rubbing his arms, he walked faster.

Before long, he once again came across the neatly trimmed grass of Number 4 Privet drive.

Without even a chance of running into another infamous Dursley, he hurried up the staircase to his room. Once inside he promptly collapsed on the bed, with a groan. Ouch. His body throbbed with protest at the sudden movement.

He looked over to his billboard from his position on the bed. Several doodles were attatched randomly all over it. Nothing magical of course; anything with a hint of abnormailty was locked up in his old cupboard under the stairs. His thoughts began to drift back to Sirius again and he had to forcibly stop himself.

He sighed again. When would this feeling of misery and depression end. Do I have depression? Harry questioned, with a frown. He sat up and rubbed his neck, feeling his heart swell with pain of the loss of Sirius.

It's your own fault you're this miserable. You killed him. You killed Sirius. He told himself over and over. One coherent part of his brain was telling him that it wasn't his fault, and that there was other reasons and other people to blame - but Harry wasn't listening to that little voice right now.

A tapping made his morbid thoughts cease. He looked over to the window and saw an unfamiliar owl focusing on Harry. He cringed at the intense gaze from the owl. Get a hold of yourself, he mentally berated himself, before getting up and opening the window to retrieve a crinkled letter.

He saw the bird swoop off again into the distance until it was out of sight. He scrubbed at his eyes after closing the window and promptly went about opening the letter.

Harry,

How are you doing? I know it must be as hard for you right now as it is for me. I want you to know that you can talk to me at any time.
I shall be at Privet Drive on Friday at 8pm to escort you to Grimmauld Place, as Dumbledore requested.

Hope you are holding up Harry,

Remus.

Harry walked over and dropped the letter onto his desk, which was littered with more letters from various others. All of which he had not replied to. It's not that he was annoyed with them, not at all, he just couldn't find the…energy. He couldn't find it a lot recently if he was being honest with himself.

He carefully sat on the bed, his mind thinking back to Remus's letter. It seemed he had no choice in the matter at going back to Grimmauld place. His deceased godfathers place. Sirius's place.

He leaned back and tucked himself onto his bed, curling up in such a way that made it seem like he was hiding from the world. He knew he was hiding, and what's worse was that he couldn't even find the energy to care.

So there you go guys! First chapter up! Any chance you fancy leaving a review? *Epic puppy dog eyes* Just a "good" or "Bad" will keep me happy! (Well...maybe not the "bad"...) ;)