A/N: Please read. This is only my first chapter and my first fanfiction. I am looking for a Beta-Reader as well. So if you would like to beta my story, please tell me. And I need help in most areas. So anyone who is willing to help me write and pick apart this story to make it good, let me know. And if you havent already, go read "The First Prophecy" by Loxodonta-Magica, my madre, and her sequel to it as well. So if you've read her story read mine and help me if you want to be a beta reader. Someone who knows British spellings and the like. Thanks, and enjoy the first chapter.

Chapter 1

One More Mistake

Harry was doing the usual chores, when his aunt yelled at him from somewhere in the house. "Boy! When you're finished with those chores of yours, clean Dudley's room! And it had better be spotless!" Harry groaned. His cousin's room was a pigsty! He would never get it 'spotless' unless he could use his magic, but for one thing, he wasn't allowed since he was still underage. For another thing, Harry was pretty sure even magic couldn't help his cousin's room.

"A bunch of house elves probably couldn't get that room clean." He muttered. Sighing, he returned to washing the dishes, still wishing he could do magic to do all of his chores.

But then they'd just give you more things to do. A little voice in his mind told him.

Oh Shut it. I'm just wishing is all. Just…wishing.

And it was true. He did wish a lot. He wished he could see his friends. He wished he would never see the Potions Master again. Snarky jerk. Always walking around like he's the King of Hell. He wished he could live somewhere besides the Dursleys. If only Sirius hadn't…fallen. I would've had somewhere to live and someone who cares about me to live with. And he wished he could do magic so he could hex all three of the Dursleys for doing what they did to him. Especially Uncle Vernon. He hated his uncle with a passion. Lately his uncle had been coming home drunk and if Harry was around, his uncle would use him as a punching bag. But last night was by far one of the worst times that Uncle Vernon was in one of his foul moods. Harry had come out of that one with a bruised shoulder and possibly broken ribs. He wasn't sure, but they sure were bruised a dark purple, and he knew that wasn't going to be the last of it. He just hoped his uncle was in some sort of good mood when he came home so he wouldn't get used as a punching bag, or stress ball.

"Boy!" Aunt Petunia shrieked, clamoring down the stairs as fast as her skinny legs could carry her. "Have you finished your chores yet?! Hurry up! You know Vernon likes a clean home to walk into! Not some filthy, freak ridden, trash hole that we have to wake up to every morning!" Harry just started at her when she had finally come down the stairs like he usually did when she complained, and as usual, she slapped him for being 'disrespectful'. "I won't tolerate that kind of attitude in this house you filthy good for nothing! You show me some respect! We are letting you live here!" Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes and cross his arms. You aren't letting me live here. You just had no choice. I'm nothing but a burden to you and your lousy family. Harry would have said that to her if he didn't fear for his life. If he had said that to his Aunt, she would have told his Uncle, and his Uncle would be more than willing to fix that situation.

"Yes Ma'am." Harry replied, trying not to sound sarcastic.

"Don't you 'yes ma'am' me in that tone of voice!" She practically screamed and slapped him again, this time leaving a stinging mark in its place. They didn't usually, but Merlin! Was this skinny twig of a woman working out or something? Maybe that's what she was doing while Harry did all the chores.

"Sorry." Harry said, actually sounding like it this time, hoping she wouldn't hit him again.

"You'd better be you filthy freak! Now finish your chores! Stop standing here like a bump in the road and get your behind moving!" She huffed in annoyance, looking at him with disgust, and walked off, leaving Harry to his chores; which he did for the rest of the day.

Harry had just finished all of his chores, and was about to start on his cousin's room, when he heard the car pull up in the drive. He's home. Harry took to the stairs and went up them two at a time. He stopped near the top when he heard the car door slam and then the breaking of glass on the walk.

Another beer bottle for me to clean up. I should just take the shards and put them in their beds.

But then what would that earn you? The little voice asked. You'd only make things worse for yourself because they'd get mad and probably kill you.

Just shut up! It's just wishful thinking!

Shaking his head, he walked up the last few steps and to his cousin's bedroom door. He knocked and Dudley appeared, asking,

"What do you want freak? Another beating?"

"No, I'm supposed to clean your room" Harry replied calmly.

"Why do you want to clean my room?"

"Aunt Petunia told me to. So are you going to move so I can get it done?"

"No. You're not touching my stuff with your nasty hands. You'd probably infect it and then I'd get sick. Now get lost." And he slammed the door in Harry's face.

That went over well. At least I don't have to clean it now. He was turning to go to his room when a crash, followed by a shout, ensued from down stairs. Then,

"WHERE IS THAT FREAK?! I'M GOING TO KILL HIM! HOW DARE HE!" Vernon Dursley screamed from downstairs. You could hear Mrs. Dursley trying unsuccessfully to calm him down and Dudley had opened his door once again, a giddy smile plastered on his face, to see what was going to happen to his freak of a cousin. And had anyone been looking, they would have noticed that all the color had drained from Harry's face. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to move or think anything other than the chant he was repeating in his head.

I'm going to die. He's going to kill me. What do I do?

Potter! The voice in his mind yelled. Get a hold of yourself! But Harry had tuned the voice out. Unbeknownst to him, his hands were quite visibly shaking from the fear that his uncle had instilled in him over the years.

A split second later, Uncle Vernon was making his way clumsily up the stairs towards Harry. Whose entire being was telling him to run, but it was like someone had hexed him with the Leg Locker jinx. Harry stared in horror at his huge beast of an uncle, who looked ready to kill, and was muttering under his breath about filthy freaks who didn't deserve to live anywhere. He finally came to the top of the stairs and was now towering over Harry. His breath was extremely foul to Harry, and it took all that he could muster, not to wrinkle his nose in disgust.

"YOU RUDDY FREAK! YOU LOST ME MY BLOODY JOB! WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Dursley screamed at him.

"N-nothing. I swear it." Harry stammered.

"YOU BLOODY WELL DID NOTHING, BUT LOSE ME MY JOB!" He grabbed Harry by the throat. "I should kill you." His uncle whispered harshly. "You are nothing but a burden to us! And you're a filthy FREAK! You should've died a long time ago! We should have let you freeze to death on the porch that night!" His grip tightened and Harry found himself unable to breathe. He tried to pull his uncles beefy hand off, but that just made the man squeeze harder, making Harry's vision go blurry. "You are never going to step foot in this house again! You and all your bloody freaks you call 'friends'!" Suddenly, his uncles other hand collided with Harry's stomach, just below the sternum, sending pain throughout his ribcage and causing him to choke as the rest of his air was knocked from his already struggling lungs. "Now get out!" And, without warning, Harry was thrown forcibly against the wall, hard enough for his vision to go dark. Then he gasped as his uncle pulled him forward by the front of his shirt, spun him around sharply, and shoved him down the stairs so quickly, Harry didn't have time to react.

Loud cracks filled the air as Harry tumbled down the never ending flight of stairs and broke more than a few bones. After what seemed like eternity, he finally hit the floor at the bottom in a heap. His arm was sticking out at an odd angle and blood began to soak the side of his shirt where a shard of glass was protruding from the skin.

He felt so weird, but nothing hurt. It was like numbing pain. He could feel it, but couldn't and his vision was going in and out of focus as he tried to figure out what was broken on himself. Then his uncles face appeared over his.

"You get out of this house and don't come back! If you are not gone within the next ten minutes, I will call the police! Now get your stuff and leave!" Harry nodded numbly as his uncle staggered off. He then tried to push himself up off the floor, but winced when he fell back and hit his head again. Is it my arm? He wondered, and tried to lift it up to see but his left arm wouldn't respond. So he pushed himself up by his other arm and looked at his unresponsive one.

Great Merlin! Why can't I feel thatHis left arm was already bruising and it was obviously broken as it was bent at an angle that arms normally didn't bend to. And it looked like it was also dislocated, seeing as he couldn't move it and it just hung there. I must be in shock or something. I'll worry about that later, I just need to get my stuff and get out of here soon before that oaf calls the cops.

"Hey Freak!" Uncle Vernon yelled from the kitchen. "You have five minutes left before I call the police!"

Crap. Now I have to hurry. That's just great. Harry clumsily stood and tried to put his arm back into place, and finding that it didn't work and the fact he was wasting his precious time, he gave up and staggered over to the kitchen door, holding his limp arm. Pushing the door open, he asked stoically,

"Where's my stuff?" His Aunt and Uncle turned around sharply.

"Under the stairs. Now get out before I call the cops!" His uncle yelled the last bit as Harry turned away. He made his way to the cupboard he had spent most of his life in and opened it. All of his things were laying in a heap on the floor of the cupboard.

There's no way I will be able to lug all of that bloody stuff out of here with my arm the way it is. Oh well, one more rule broken, 'cause I need to shrink all this to get out of here and be able to run. Picking up his wand from the pile, he accioed the rest of his stuff from the upstairs bedroom and shrunk it along with everything else and put it in his pocket. Hedwigs cage and Hedwig had flown down the stairs along with everything else, and now Harry released her, telling her to fly to Ron's where she would be safe, then shrunk her cage and also put it in his pocket.He was about to shut the cupboard door when he heard them. The sirens in the distance.

He wasn't joking. And he could hear his uncle laughing manically in the kitchen.

"Ha ha! You're in for it now you freak! They're going to catch you and put you away! Mark my words boy!" And he could hear his aunt join in the laughter as well.

This is not good at all. And he rushed out the door and into the warm summer night.

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Five Minutes Earlier

The phone on the other end rang three times before someone from the police department answered,

"Yes? What is your emergency?" The operator asked.

"My nephew has packed his things and run away. I would like to know what you do in situations like this." Mrs. Dursley answered. She had called, as Mr. Dursley was still very drunk and she knew that he would cause problems. Having a drunken man on the phone with the police spelled trouble and he would just rant on and on about his nephew. So all in all, Mrs. Dursley was very willing to call for her husband, if only to get the filthy freak out of her home.

"This is perfectly normal, unless you would like us to take him to a juvenile detention center or just bring him back home. Truants usually only stay for five days in the detention center, unless the legal guardians consent or request that the truant stay in for a longer period of time for a rehab of sorts to help the truant get back on track and stay out of trouble. Is this information sufficient enough for your needs?"

"Oh yes, of course it is. And we would like you to take him in to the detention center and request that he stay in longer than the normal period to get sorted out. He is a troublemaker and now a runaway. So do as you please. He is out of our control now."

"Good. The Law Enforcement Officers are going to be on there way as soon as you give me your address. The Officers will ask you a few questions and then immediately start looking for your nephew."

"We live on number seven, Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey, England. Thank you for your time."

"Goodnight. The officers will be arriving shortly." Mrs. Dursley hung up the phone and repeated all of the information that the operator had told her to Mr. Dursley.

"Well that's just bloody wonderful! We finally got rid of him!" He laughed manically as he heard the sirens sound in the distance and called out to the boy, who hadn't left yet. "Ha ha! You're in for it now you freak! They're going to catch you and put you away! Mark my words boy!" And Mrs. Dursley joined in the laughter as they both heard their nephew clamoring to get out of the house.

"Ah, he's finally gone. Now we just have to get a cleaning crew out here sometime to clean out that room upstairs to give to my Dudley so he can have it back." Mrs. Dursley said, and started looking up numbers in the phone book that was lying near the phone.

A knock at the door stopped Mrs. Dursley from looking up the number. She closed the book with a snap and turned to Mr. Dursley.

"Now, dear. You still need to work off that buzz you've got, or the officers will start to figure things out. So go upstairs and sleep or at least pretend to. I will handle the officers tonight." Vernon nodded his consent and wobbled a bit on his way out of the kitchen. When he was making his way up the stairs, another knock ensued from the front door.

"This is the Law Enforcement. Open up." One of the officers demanded.

"Coming sirs." Petunia called, and walked albeit a little slowly, just to make sure Vernon was in his room and out of sight from the officers. When she was sure he was, she quickly walked up to the front door and opened it to admit the two officers that were standing on her porch.

"Come in. Would you like to sit for the questioning or should we all just stand?" Petunia asked them.

"Standing is fine Madame. We only have a few questions for you to answer." The officer on the right said, and pulled out a small notepad and a pen. "Ok, so., has your nephew ever done anything like this before? Or has he ever threatened to leave the home?"

"Yes. Many times he has threatened to leave and now he has." She lied.

"Ok." The officer said, and wrote something down on the paper. "What does he look like?"

"He has black unruly hair, green eyes, wears glasses, has a small scar on his forehead, and he is kind of short for his age."

"Ok, his name, age, and your consent to put him into the juvenile detention center please."

"His name is Harry Potter and he is fifteen and you have our consent and request to keep him in there until he is straightened out."

"Well, we need your signature and that will be all." The officer held out a paper and pen to her. Petunia took both, and leaning over the table that was conveniently in the hall, she signed it and handed them back. "Thank you kindly Madame." And with that, the two officers walked out the door, presumably to start looking for their nephew. Petunia shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief.

I'm glad he's gone. Now I need to go to the store tomorrow and get invitations sent out so we can celebrate. Where are those cards? She asked herself and walked off looking for them.

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This is not good at all. And he rushed out the door and into the warm summer night.

As soon as the sirens had sounded, Harry had sprinted all the way down Privet Drive and to the park that was nearby. He rushed by the playground and went straight to the swings. Stopping, he held onto the chain of one of the swings and tried to catch his breath. It was a bit difficult with the broken ribs that he had sustained and the still unknown piece of glass imbedded in his side. Harry clutched at his side just below where the glass was and winced slightly when he felt the broken ribs and then something warm.

What is that? He wondered. He used his nearly uninjured hand to feel his side, counted almost six broken ribs there and something that was making him bleed rather profusely. Pulling his hand back, he saw something dark covering it, but with his vision fluctuating the way it was, he couldn't quite tell. Well, it doesn't hurt. I'll mess with that later. I just need to find a way to get out of here. He looked around himself and tried to figure out what he needed to do.

Okay, so I just need to keep running and hope that they don't catch me. But where to go? Hmm…Grimauld Place is too far. I'll never make it to Hogwarts. I can't take the night bus; the ministry no doubt is looking for me. Dumbledore is not going to be very happy. He's probably worried himself to death by now. But still, I need a place to go. I don't know what those cops are going to do to me when they find me. The sirens sounded again, but it sounded like there was more than one cop looking for him. Speaking of…

Harry let go of the swing chain that he had been holding and ran deeper into the park. He stopped when he was at the edge of it and a warning sign greeted him.

Woods-Dangerous-Turn Back

The woods huh? I think I can deal with what ever is in there and it's not like I have any other choice. And he strode in to the woods, not knowing what he was going to do if he ran across anything.

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A/N: Did you like it? And the second chapter won't be up for a while since I have school and final exams coming up. And I need a BETA-Reader!! Info's at the top!