A/N: all my readers probably hate me. I haven't updated in for ever but I swear I have good reason. You see I had all the new chapters for my stories done and would have posted them in late july had they not been stolen, along with half my and my roommates things, during my first week at college. And yes I am in college and my old computer is totally FUBAR so I only have internet access at school. Which I really busy at. You see? BUT, before the hordes of Pissed off readers swarm me, I wanted to let everyone know that I will be getting another computer within a couple of weeks. So if everyone can hang on then I will be happy to update ASAP. You wouldn't believe how hard it was to get even this small chapter for my new story down. I would have used that time to update something but this story was one of those things that I just HAD to get written down somewhere, yknow? Well, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter books or any characters found therein. I make no profit from these stories. Hell, the plots not even really mine. The syntax and diction of the story is all I own.

Harry Potter sat in his bedroom at Number 4 Privet Drive. As he starred out the window from his position curled up on the bed he thought about his life and the things that always seemed to happen to him. It was true that those things were his fault to some small degree, but mostly the blame rested on the shoulders of the entire wizarding world, and Albus Dumbledore of course. The meddling old man had repeatedly presented him with the promise of mystery and adventure. What naïve teenage boy could resist? But after last year and the triwizard tornament, Harry had learned. The death of Cedric had almost been his own death.

After having starved himself for half the summer he was almost skin and bones. The only thing that had kept him alive was aunt Petunia's bi-weekly visits to shove some form of food down his throat ranting about not having 'those freaks' in her house because he was too stupid to eat. He was now utilizing the quite of his surroundings to think things over.

After the past four years and all he had been through, Harry could easily guess what would happen upon his return to Hogwarts. He would get through the first couple days of classes fine before some new mystery or some odd behavior would catch his eye. No matter how much he would try to ignore it, Ron's constant need to have his life threatened and Hermione's insatiable curiosity would drag him in deeper and deeper. And the wonderful Headmaster, defeater of the dark wizard Grindlewald, would stand by, watching it all happen and occasionally giving little clues to help the three students endanger themselves and those around them.

Somewhere along the way, the wizarding world would read some of the trash that Rita Skeeter wrote and turn against him like they always did. If you asked him, it didn't seem like a good idea to piss off the person that you believed to be your only chance at survival. But that was just him. And all of this was becoming a routine that he was sick and tired of. To tell the truth he didn't think he even cared what happened to the wizarding world anymore. Sure, the Weasley's had been nice to him, but Ron was always one of the first to turn against him when some rumor or other got out about him and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had done nothing when they had discovered that he had been locked up in his room with bars on the windows in Second year. He would still protect them if he could but the fact was that he was getting so worn down that he wasn't sure he could protect himself anymore, let alone the whole wizarding world.

The conclusion that came from all of this thinking was simple. He was tired. He was tired of the rumors and the lies and people that were supposed to be his friends turning on him at the drop of the hat. He was tired of being manipulated by Dumbledore and insulted by that bumbling idiot that called himself the Minister of Magic. He was tired of being expected to play the worthy hero and being expected to suffer all these injustices with gentle understanding. He was fourteen going on fifteen and he was fucking exhausted of the expectations of others. A sudden revelation caused Harry to jump off the bed and to his feet.

He quit. He couldn't take it anymore so he would quit following their rules and quit living up to their expectations. He would do what HE wanted to. From now on things were going to change. And Harry knew just what he wanted to change first. In a flurry of movement Harry started to gather what things he had been able to keep in his room upon his arrival and wrapped them up in the ratty blanket from his bed. He quickly changed into his best muggle clothes before letting Hedwig outside with instructions to meet him at the leaky cauldron. With one final glance at the clock he headed downstairs and used a wandless alohamora (one of the few wandless spells he knew) to open the cupboard where his stuff was usually kept. After he had lugged everything outside he used his wand to shrink his luggage and signal the knight bus. He looked around at the other inhabitants before he realized that the driver was talking to him.

"Huh?" Harry asked, having been too distracted to hear the question.

"I said, Where to, mate?"

" Oh, uh, the leaky cauldron please."

"You got it." Replied the drive before the bus once again flew forward. As he got comfortable on one of the beds, Harry thought about the future and was all to glad to realize that for once, things where on his hands.

TBC…

A/N: so? What did you think? I get a lot of reviews I'll stay late at school in order to update something. Just be sure to write the name of the story of mine that you want updated and I'll see what I can do. Thank you guys for being so patient and not flaming me to death! Cookies all around!