Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story except Sorai, and a few other small irrelevant characters. The really important ones belong to an excellent author by the name of JK Rowling. The plot is my idea, but it's of course based on hers...you know the drill!

So here's the deal, this story was my first story, my favorite story, and my most popular story. It got approximately 725 reviews, which is more than I could have ever expected...I kind of wish my others had done as well.

The entire thing was written before OOTP which I like to pretend was never written, so a lot of stuff isn't right, but it just wouldn't work if I made it OOTP compatible, so I think we can all overlook that, right?

Anyway, I've looked back over the fic many times and I cringe at some of the things I wrote. Cry much? LOL...So I'm going back and fixing my errors and taking out a few of the scenes that make our favorite boys more emotional than girls. The original will remain up if you don't like the changes, but I think it'll make the story much, much better! Enjoy!

"I won't cry, I won't cry! I can't let them see what they're doing to me!" Harry thought to himself desperately. He was lying on the floor of his room, circled by the Dursley family, all of whom were staring menacingly at him.

Somehow, the Dursley's had found out what happened to Harry during his fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Did they care what had happened, that Harry had almost died several times, and had witnessed a fellow student die? Of course not! Rather, they found the piece of information rather amusing. Harry wasn't quite sure how the Dursley's had found out about the previous year, and wasn't about to ask. "Dumbledore," thought Harry the first time the Dursley's mentioned it. "Dumbledore probably told them in hopes that they'd be nicer to me this year. Man, was he wrong."

Instead of calling him boy, the Dursley's began to refer to Harry as 'The Murderer'. They had gathered that if Harry hadn't been involved, Cedric Diggory would still be alive.

When he first heard them calling him 'The Murderer', Harry had been shocked. When he found that it was going to continue, he was a little hurt, but generally didn't care too much. After all, it was the Dursley's. However, as the summer wore on, Harry began to feel worse and worse about being called 'The Murderer'. Since they day it happened, Harry had felt responsible for Cedric's death, but had never considered himself to be his actual murderer.

The real murderer was Voldemort, and Harry understood that. But constantly being called "The Murderer', slowly changed the way Harry thought. The more he heard it, the more he felt it to be true. Before he went to bed at night, he felt overwhelming guilt about it all.

Yet the nickname alone wasn't enough to bring Harry Potter to tears. When either of the Dursley men was feeling particularly angry, they decided to use 'The Murderer' as they're personal punching bag. Petunia was too weak to do anything to Harry, so she would watch with a satisfied smile on her face. They would find Harry in his room or doing his chores and begin hitting and kicking him, while repeating his new nickname over and over.

At the moment, Harry was looking around in exasperation after a particularly hard beating. "I think they broke a couple of ribs this time," Harry thought in agony. "Oh no, here comes Uncle Vernon's foot again."

"Take that you little murderer! You vile piece of dirt!" Vernon spat at Harry before kicking Harry sharply in the head. Harry no longer had to worry about holding back his tears, as the blow to the head had knocked him unconscious.

Harry woke up hours later. It was now quite dark, but Harry couldn't focus his eyes enough to read his watch. He was still lying on the ground, and tried to get up, but couldn't even reach a sitting position. As he tried to move, sharp pains shot through every part of his body. "Even my hair hurts," Harry though dryly to himself. "What am I supposed to do now?"

He looked desperately around his deserted room for something to pull himself up with. He couldn't get his legs or back to move, but his arms still worked just fine. The closest thing he could get to was an old desk chair piled with clothes. Using his arms, Harry scooted his body towards the chair until he was close enough to grasp the seat of it. He gathered all his strength and pulled up on the chair. He realized a little too late what the effect of this would be, and found himself flat on the ground again, this time with the chair across his already injured chest, and clothes landed on top of his head.

"It really can't get much worse can it," Harry asked himself. He then remembered who we was, and thought "Oh yes, it definitely can."

Harry decided to give up on trying to stand, and decided to call it a night. He pushed the chair off his chest and threw the clothes across the room.

The only way Harry could get to sleep was to try to ignore his pain, and his guilty thoughts. These were of course the only two things that Harry could think about, and always found it extremely difficult to think of anything else. Harry could often find sleep, however, imagining how his summer could have been different. "I could be at Ron's right now! Or if Sirius weren't still on the run, I could be hanging out with him. I'd rather be suffering through Potions, with Malfoy as my partner than be here in this house!" And with these thoughts, Harry fell into a dreamless sleep.

When Harry woke the next morning, he found his condition hadn't improved at all. Again, he tried to get up off the floor, but found he could only crane his neck and move his arms. "This is bad," thought Harry, "really, really bad."

Harry didn't know what to do, so he didn't do anything. He just laid on the floor, starring at the sky out the window. It was a clear blue day, not a single cloud in the azure abyss.

Suddenly, Harry craned his neck up. "Was that what I thought it was?" Harry had spotted a small brown speck moving across the blue sky. It was progressively getting bigger, and Harry was eventually positive, that it was an owl. He was overjoyed by the mere thought of it, and couldn't wait until it actual arrived. Finally it did, and Harry at once recognized the handwriting on the letter the owl carried. The letter was from his Godfather, Sirius Black.

Harry eagerly opened the letter and read as fast as he could:

Dear Harry,

How are things at the Dursley's? They better be going alright
or I'll be over there in seconds to rip them limb from limb.
I'm staying at Moony's place for the time being, and won't
hesitate to leave if you need me. Dumbledore's been giving us
various jobs to do during the summer, but you're more important
than anything he may want me to do. I want you to know that.
Please reply quickly, or I'm going to assume the worst.

Sirius

Harry's heart warmed for his godfather at that moment. He didn't want Sirius to worry or do something stupid. Unfortunately, Harry had no pens or quills nearby, so he couldn't write back a lie telling Sirius that all was fine. Harry didn't really know what to do.

After a few minutes of thinking, Harry decided that all he needed at the moment was some help. Sirius could give him that help, so he needed to reply to Sirius. Doing the only thing he could think of, Harry scratched "HELP!" into the parchment with his fingernail, before tying it to the owl and letting it go back out the window.

"It's going to be at least two hours before Sirius gets his letter back, and then who knows how long before he does anything about it," Harry thought. "What am I going to do with myself until then?"

Harry decided to try, yet again to get himself up. He looked around and tried to find a way up. He looked at the chair he had tried the previous night.

"Maybe it'll be sturdier on its side like that," he thought. He pushed himself up on the edge of the seat, and was surprised to see that his back actually left the ground. However, he was even more surprised when his hand slipped off the chair, and his cheek roughly hit one of the chair's legs.

Harry gave up yet again. He decided it was best to just lie on the floor and not move. Rather, that's all he really could possibly do. Unfortunately, this meant leaving Harry to his conscience.

Harry immediately replayed the events of the following school year over and over in his head. He left out all the happy things that had happened, and focused on the bad. The time Ron had decided to hate him, the articles Rita Skeeter had done on him, and of course the night after the third task. He kept focusing on how he managed to bring pain to everyone else.

"If it weren't for me, Hermione would never have gotten all that hate mail, nobody would know that Hagrid was a half giant, Cedric Diggory would be alive and happy," Harry thought sadly. "Why doesn't everyone stop protecting me, and let me die already. It's rather obvious that I'm going to die young, so why don't we just get it over with! It would cause everyone a lot less pain and suffering!"

At these thoughts, Harry broke down in tears. He was sobbing despite the pain that it caused. Harry just let it all out while he was stuck there on the floor. All the pain he was in, all the guilt he felt, was all released as Harry lay howling on the floor in his bedroom.

He had no intentions of stopping either, until he heard a loud knock coming from the front door. At the sound, Harry jumped in relief. His reflexes tried to make him sit up, but his pain wouldn't allow it, forcing Harry to roll onto his side in agony. He didn't care though. Sirius was here. Here to help him.

The knocking grew louder, until Harry heard Uncle Vernon yell that he was coming. He heard the door squeak open, a loud gasp, and then the door slammed shut. This was followed by louder knocking, and whispers shared between Vernon and Petunia. Harry could just barely make out what the two were saying.

"It's that murdering godfather of the murderer!"

"Why do you think he's here Vernon?!"

"That little nuisance probably told him how much we detest the boy. He's here to seek his revenge."

Harry then heard a window shatter, and his godfather's angry voice echoing throughout the house.

"Where's Harry?" Sirius bellowed so loudly the windows in Harry's room rattled.

"Man," thought Harry, "I hope I never make Sirius that mad!"

Harry went back to listening in time to here Vernon shouting back at Sirius, "How dare you come to MY home, break a window, and expect me to tell you anything!" Harry could tell Vernon was trying to sound brave, but he was failing miserably. Even from his bedroom, he could here the quiver in his uncle's voice.

"If you hadn't slammed the bloody door in my face I wouldn't have had to break the window, now would I?" Sirius shouted, obviously not the least bit intimidated by the obese man. "Now, I ask you one more time! Where is Harry?"

"The miserable little murderer is upstairs in his bedroom," Vernon replied giving in to his fear. Yet, Harry was surprised that Vernon actually had the audacity to use the nickname in front of Sirius.

Sirius, however, seemed to take no note of the nickname, as he ran upstairs the very moment Harry's location had been disclosed. Harry heard Sirius's footsteps getting louder and louder, he could barely take the anticipation of seeing someone who actually gave a damn about him. The tears that had been Harry's release of pain, had become tears of joy. He was actually sobbing with happiness, knowing that for at least a few minutes he'd be around someone who cared.

Harry heard a closet door in the hall open, and he heard Sirius curse, before finally trying the right door. He heard Sirius gasp as he saw Harry lying there on the floor. Sirius stood shocked for a moment at the door.

"Wow," thought Harry, "I must look worse than I thought."

"Harry! What the hell happened to you? Are you alright?" Sirius said, rushing to his godson's side.

"Hi Sirius," Harry whispered weakly, "I don't think I'm alright. I've been stuck here on the floor since last night. I can only move my arms and my neck...ev-everything hurts!" Harry started sobbing again.

Sirius didn't know what to do. When Harry had sent back a letter with the word help carved into it, he really didn't know what to expect. But Harry hurt like this hadn't even seemed to be a possibility.

Sirius had never been the most affectionate guy in the world, and his time spent in Azkaban certainly hadn't helped him with that. However, all Sirius could even think to do at that moment was wrap Harry in his arms. And that's exactly what he did, or at least tried to do.

He tried to pull Harry into a sitting position, so he could hug him, but Harry cried out in pain the moment his shoulders were an inch from the ground.

"Sorry Harry," Sirius whispered, "I didn't mean to hurt you." Sirius really had no idea what to do. "This is really bad Harry, what have they done to you?"

"It's kind of a long story," Harry replied hoarsely through his sobs.

"Well, Harry, we need to get you out of here, and I don't want to risk moving you. Where's your wand?"

"Locked up in the cupboard under the stairs," Harry replied.

"Do you know where the key is?"

"No, they don't want me doing anything dealing with magic, so they don't let me near any of my stuff." Harry was sobbing so painfully, Sirius could barely make out what he was saying, but he heard enough.

He was about to get up to go threaten the Dursley's some more, when Harry grabbed his wrist firmly.

"Please, don't leave me," he croaked.

"I'm never going to leave you Harry, you have my word on that. I just have to fetch your wand, so I can safely get you out of this hellhole," he replied fiercely, that temper Harry had caught earlier back in his voice. Harry released Sirius's wrist, and watched him exit the room through his watery eyes.

He heard footsteps through out the house, but heard no voices. "Oh no, the Dursley's must have left! How's Sirius going to get me out of here. He's going to have to leave!" Harry thought frantically.

Sure enough, Sirius returned after searching the house for the Dursley's, with news that the horrid family had fled.

"You-you're not going to leave me are you Sirius?" Harry pleaded in a quivering voice.

"Didn't I just tell you I'd never leave you?" Sirius said kindly, kneeling beside Harry, and ruffling his hair.

Harry flinched at this, as did Sirius. As he pulled back his hand, he found that it had just gotten covered with blood from Harry's head. Sirius looked down at Harry in shock, and watched Harry's lips tremble.

"Last night, Uncle Vernon was in a really bad mood. He kicked me around a bit, I guess he kicked me harder in the head then I had thought," Harry stated, as if it was normal to be kicked in the head.

"Hold on Harry, I want you to tell me everything that's happened, but first let me send an owl to Moony, okay. He'll be able to help us both. I'm just glad your good for nothing uncle let you keep your owl in here."

Sirius walked over to Harry's desk and wrote a hurried message to Remus. It said:

Moony,

I just arrived at Harry's, and he's in really bad shape. I need
you to apparate here immediately. Be prepared to do some
serious healing charms. Harry can't even move. Please hurry!

Sirius

He tied the letter to Hedwig, and before sending it out the window said, "Hurry Hedwig. Fly to Remus as fast as you can! This is probably the most important letter you'll ever have to deliver." With that, Hedwig sped out the window as fast as her wings could carry her. She seemed to really understand the importance of the letter.

Sirius watched her for a few more seconds, and turned his attention back to his godson. It appeared that Harry had fallen asleep. This really worried Sirius, Harry could have a concussion, and sleeping and concussions don't mix.

Sirius decided he had to wake Harry up, and keep him awake. The best way he could think to do this was to make a lot of noise. He didn't want to risk shaking him, it appeared he was already in enough pain.

"Harry....Harry....C'mon buddy, wake up! Harry, please wake up. HARRY!" Sirius said, progressively getting louder. "HARRY WAKE UP!" This finally woke Harry, but not the way Sirius had planned. By yelling, like he had, he managed to scare the living daylights out of the poor boy. Harry woke with a scream, and his arms flailing all around. One hand punched Sirius rather hard in the stomach.

"OH! Sirius, it's you! You scared me!" Harry breathed in relief.

"I'm so sorry Harry. I didn't mean to scare you but you really had me worried. I need you to stay awake until Moony gets here okay?" Harry nodded weakly, and lifted his head to get a better look at Sirius.

"I missed you Sirius. Thanks for coming."

"No need to thank me Harry. I should have checked in on you much sooner. Why didn't you tell me any of this was going on?"

"I didn't want you to get caught. They're still looking for you, and I don't want to be the reason you're sent back to Azkaban," Harry whispered.

"Harry, you're the main reason I'm out. What would I have to live for if I didn't have you to look out for? I want you to promise me that from this moment on, you tell me everything important that's going on in your life. Will you promise me that?"

"Yeah, I promise," Harry replied meekly, trying to keep his head up.

"You must be so uncomfortable, do you want something to lean your head against?" Harry nodded. Sirius got up and looked around the room. There wasn't a single pillow in the entire bedroom. "They didn't even give you pillow's?" Sirius asked in disbelief. Harry simply shook his head. "I can't believe this Harry," he whispered, sitting cross-legged by Harry's head, and resting it gently against his legs.

"While we wait for Remus, why don't you tell me what's been going on," Sirius said after a few minutes of silence, afraid that Harry would fall back asleep.

"Okay," Harry replied, letting out a shaky breath, knowing he'd probably start crying again at any second. Yet he relayed his story anyway. He told how each day, the summer got worse and worse, and how he constantly had feelings of overwhelming guilt and fear. He told Sirius everything he could think of, and then just laid in silence with his head resting on his godfathers legs.

Harry had almost fallen asleep again, when a noise from downstairs reached his ears.

"Sirius! Harry! Where are you?" came the familiar voice of Remus Lupin. Harry and Sirius simultaneously released held breaths.

"Up here Moony! Hurry!" Sirius called as loudly as he could. Remus heard him and quickly ran up the stairs, and just as Sirius had done, froze at the doorway.

"Good God! Harry what happened to you! Sirius, how long has he been like this?" Remus said exasperatedly.

"I don't know for sure how long he's been like this, but he can't move at all. I would have done something, but you know I don't have a wand, and Harry's is locked away. Please do something Moony," Sirius pleaded to his best friend.

"I'll try Padfoot, but there's not that much I can do." Moony said wearily. I think what we'll have to do is conjure a stretcher, and then apparate him to my house. We can send for Madam Pomfrey from there. First, though, I think we should get his stuff. Where is it?"

"Locked away in the cupboard under the stairs."

"Okay, you stay here, I'll go get it all, and then you can use his wand. It'll make it much easier if we can both do magic." With that, he left the room.

"Did you hear that Harry? We're going to get you out of here." Sirius beamed at his godson, who returned it with only a weak grin. Sirius, however, knew that the grin meant much more than it showed.

In no time, Remus was back upstairs. He threw Harry's wand to Sirius, who grabbed it gracefully before gently removing Harry's head from his legs and placing it back on the floor. He stood up as Remus began to levitate Harry a small amount off the ground. Harry began to whimper in fear, but there was no other way they could think to move him, so they carried on with that method. While Harry was in the air, Sirius conjured a stretcher beneath his floating body, and Remus slowly lowered Harry's body onto it. Sirius grabbed hold of the stretcher, and immediately apparated to Remus's house, where he was soon followed by Remus himself, who had grabbed Harry's possessions.

"Lets put him in my room," Sirius said to Remus, who nodded his head, not caring where they put Harry as long as he was safe.

They steered the stretcher into Sirius's bedroom, and then, again levitated him, so they could place him securely in Sirius's bed.

"I'm going to go find some old pajamas for him Padfoot, I'll be right back."

"Okay Moony," Sirius replied, not taking his eyes off his godson.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked.

"My chest hurts," Harry whispered, limply putting a hand over his heart.

"You're going to be alright Harry, trust me," Sirius whispered, stroking Harry's clammy cheek. Harry just stared at Sirius with sad eyes. Sirius heard Remus's footsteps die away, and turned to look out the doorway. When he turned back to Harry, he gasped in shock. Harry's eyes were now shut, and he had gone completely limp in the bed. Sirius hurriedly felt for a pulse, but couldn't find one.

"Moony!" he screamed, "MOONY!"
That was the first two chapters together. I never realized how short they were! They didn't have much content changes at all, it was mostly grammar and spelling errors that I fixed. I'll probably never get them all, but I think it's an improvement.

For all those who might not have read this before, you have a nice cliffy! And I suggest you don't read what's going to happen from the original...but I can't stop you!