AN: This is my first fanfiction - probably even my first story. I've been working on it for quite some time, and I hope you'll like it. Constructive critism is appreciated, but no flames. If you don't like it, or feel that something needs to be changed, please tell me politely. I'll probably be updating once every two weeks, maybe more or less depending on school.

Read and enjoy!

Disclamer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did... well, I'd be living in a large house, with a pool, mad writing skills...

Shattered Glass

Chapter One: Goodbye to the Dursleys

It was a dark night, and the clouds rolled over to cover the waning moon. The wind whistled mysteriously while gently stirring the blades of grass. A young man walked down the street and knocked calmly on the door of Number 4, Privet Drive.

The young man had untidy black hair with deep, emerald-green eyes. He was just over six feet, fully grown. A lightning bolt scar was on his forehead, partially hidden by his hair. His face had a cold look, but it was mixed with a twinge of sadness. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was returning, perhaps for the last time, to the only other home he had known other that Hogwarts: Number 4, Privet Drive.

His head kept on replaying the events of that fateful night at Hogwarts. Why did we have to get the damn Horcrux? If it wasn't for that, I would have been able to stop the Death Eaters from coming into the school. The bloody necklace was a fake anyways! THE BLOODY NECKLACE WAS A FAKE! The words kept ringing through his head. It was as if all his anger, all his sadness was because of them. They were the root of all his anguish, all his pain.

Another voice spoke. It wasn't your fault, Harry. There was nothing you could have done. He scowled. This was the last thing he needed – his mind playing tricks on him.

Harry heard his cousin Dudley shouting at his 42-inch plasma TV and smiled. Normally, he would have just rolled his eyes and snickered, but after the death of Dumbledore, he had come to appreciate everything in life. I might never have a chance to hear him do that again. You never know that you're fortunate until you're unfortunate. This adage had allowed Harry to let go of almost all the anger towards his cousin, as was the case with almost everyone else he didn't like. With Voldemort on the loose, every day could be your last.

The door creaked open and Harry was greeted by a middle-aged, blonde man. Greeted was an overstatement. "Wha'd you want?" the man grumbled. This was Harry's uncle Vernon.

Harry chose to ignore his uncle's attitude towards him and to act civil. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a brown-haired, proper-looking woman. "Harry! What are you doing here?" Harry's aunt Petunia stood behind her husband, hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed and looked at him suspiciously.

"Last summer, Professor Dumbledore told me to come and see you again before I leave," Harry replied dryly after an awkward moment of silence. He stopped and waited for a response "So I guess I'll be going. I don't feel particularly welcome here anyways." He paused for another moment, but the Dursleys still didn't say anything. "… er…… Goodbye, I guess. … And… er… Thanks for taking me in." Harry paused again, although this time, it was because he had to think about what he said. Thanks for taking me in. Thanks for taking me in!

I shouldn't be thankful. They treated me like dirt! They starved me! They locked me up! They lied to me about my parents for eleven years! They LIED to me! But Dumbledore said that they took me in and sealed the protection he had placed on me. If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't be alive today. Voldemort would have killed me in first year.

Harry forced his anger down and looked his guardians proud and square in the eye. Unexpectedly, Aunt Petunia awkwardly gave Harry a few clumsy pats on the shoulder. Stunned, Harry looked down. He suddenly found the crack in the doorway extremely interesting.

"Harry… you just take care alright?" Aunt Petunia said cautiously. "Lily…". Aunt Petunia abruptly turned on her heels and briskly walked into the kitchen, though Harry glimpsed her tears being stifled from running down that bony cheek.

"Alright there boy," Uncle Vernon said gruffly, "You be off now." He closed the front door; it shut with a noise so dead and final.