Prologue: It was only a few weeks before the start of seventh year began. Harry Potter, 17, lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. Too many things happened in the last couple of years, but Harry had finally officially killed Voldemort. Harry thought everything would be better after Voldemort was finally gone, but he was wrong. Terribly wrong...

Chapter One:

Defying Rules

Harry let out a wide yawn when he looked to the side to see his owl, Hedwig, gone from her cage. She was off delivering letters and receiving new ones in return to give to Harry himself. Harry lay across his bed and recognizing every detail in his ceiling that he never cared about before. This was one of the abnormal days that he would do odd things without even noticing.

He looked above and noticed small indentations in his ceiling. Where they were from, he didn't know. He didn't care either, but he found it rather suspicious. These dents were small, but still quite large. He wondered if maybe the idea of his past was what made the indentations. He shuddered at the thought, because he didn't want to think about it right now. (Note: This is explained later if you're confused.)

Harry could barely move in his bed without getting a shot of pain through his entire body, and he grinded his teeth. He had bruises throughout his body and cuts along his stomach, legs, and chest, but mostly his arms. He was massaging a bleeding cut when he heard a tap in the distance. He looked to his side to find a snow white owl tapping away at his window glass.

"Hedwig,"

He had spoken rather joyously, but as soon as he moved he clutched his side. A large bruise was formed on his side in a usual shape, but he couldn't tell what it was by looking down on it. He was locked in his room so a mirror was unavailable also. Harry opened the window quietly, and Hedwig had perched herself upon Harry's desk and held out her leg generously.

He said a silent thank you and untied the three letters from Hedwig's leg. Her amber eyes looked up at him with desire and he patted her head lightly, before handing her a scrap of bread. Harry still got not much to eat at all since he was still under his Aunt and Uncle's control. The biggest meal he had all week was a piece of bread and cheese. Otherwise it was usually bread. Small portions of bread too.

Harry placed her back in her cage and shut the door with a snap. It was two in the morning and Hedwig was exhausted. She closed her eyes, after gulping down her bread, and fell into a peaceful sleep. This was unusual because owls usually slept during the day, but Hedwig was different then other owls. Something about her showed that entirely. She might be different, but Harry still admired her. She was the most dependable owl he'd ever encountered, and he couldn't help but love her.

Harry sat on his bed and coughed a little from the bruise across his throat. His entire throat was bruised and his eyes were a bit fuzzy. His left eye was blackened, and his right was a little puffy. His vision was fuzzy, but he could still make out the letters quite better then he assumed. He ripped open the first one:

Harry,

Mum said you could stay at the burrow for the rest of the summer! It's your last summer and I forbid you to stay at those god forsaken muggle's home any longer! Mum is worried and Dad, well, he is getting on better. We still stay out of contact with Percy, Merlin knows what he's up to, but I can't wait to see you! Hermione has been here the last couple of days and she's had some difficulties since yesterday. I'd explain it in this letter, but Hermione wished to tell you in person. Hope you had a better summer. See you sooner then you think, because we (me and Hermione) are picking you up tomorrow!

Ron

Harry laughed. He declared that this summer was the worst ever and Ron said 'Hope you had a better summer.' Harry couldn't help but snicker silently. Harry wondered what Ron meant about Hermione having difficulties. He wanted to know if something was wrong, but he couldn't ask her right away. She wished to talk in person, so he would. At least he would be picked up tomorrow.

Just the person he was thinking about as he opened up the second letter. It was from Hermione and he could smell the aroma of vanilla. It was her favorite scent, Harry noticed, because every time he had received a letter from her it smelled strongly of the scent. He couldn't complain though, because he liked it too.

Dear Harry,

I'm sure Ron had told you already that something happened this summer. I was going to tell you in person, but I don't think I could bare the thought. Yesterday evening my father was killed in a car accident. You know what it feels like to lose a parent, and I might need you in this situation more then ever. I can't help but think it was my fault. Mother always says it's not, but I know it is. My father and I had a disagreement last night on the phone, and it got a little out of hand. I was going to apologize on the phone this morning before he left, but he wouldn't speak to me. Then this happened. I shouldn't have had such a big row with him, and I miss him so very much. I'm sorry that this must be hard for you when you have lost both of your parents and I'm here upset because I lost one. I'm sorry if this makes you angry because I am so upset, but you have no idea how close I was to him Harry. I need you now, more then ever, and help me through this. Something tells me I can't go through this any longer. Please understand. I can't wait to see you.

Love you always, Hermione

Harry read this letter through about twenty times before he folded it and slipped it back into the envelope. He had only met Hermione's father once and he defined him as a very humorous man. Harry thought Mr. Granger was quite funny and he could see where Hermione got her gentle personality from. He met most of her family, but they were different then he expected.

Hermione's mother was a shy type. She wasn't really talkative, but her father was. He kept pulling Harry into a conversation every minute he could. Harry didn't mind, but he thought he was a bit worried about his living habits. Harry had told Hermione's parents about the Dursleys and Hermione's father had seemed quite amazed about how they treated Harry. Her father offered him food and shelter, but Harry had politely refused his offer.

Even now Harry wished he didn't, because something bad was happening under the very roof of Vernon and Petunia Dursley's house. A horror that could scare anyone and could leave people talking for hours was happening. He needed to leave this place, and hopefully he would soon. He tore open the last letter.

Mr. Potter,

Congratulations and welcome into your last year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We are pleased that you are attending your last year and good luck. A list of your school books and supplies are attached to this sheet and you are to meet in a separate compartment on the Hogwart's train. You will join nine other classmates for directions regarding your last year. We wish you luck in your seventh year and congratulations on making it this far.

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry smiled weakly at this letter. Only one more year, and in less then four weeks he would be returning home to Hogwarts. He could escape this place and he would be free from the Dursley's. He flipped to the second page and found a list of new, yet quite familiar, books he would need for his seventh year.

Here is a list of books:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 7)

By Miranda Goshawk

Top Level Potions for Everyday Potions

By Mark Guils

Complete Book of Curses and Uses

By Haften Jins

Creatures for a Creature's Creature.

By Shawn Panna

The supplies you are needed to bring are as followed and must be exact. You might find some a bit of a challenge. Ten things:

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 4)

2 bottles of golden ink

2 vials of Pondering Powder

Quills

1 telescope

1 set of dress robes

Rolls of parchment

Harry wondered why it said some would be a bit of a challenge to find, but paid no mind to it what so ever. He had seen these things before, but none really mattered. His eyes then lay on the word 'dress robes.' There was going to be another ball... damn. His worst event that he had ever participated in, but maybe this was just a seventh year thing. Hopefully it was.

Harry folded the last letter up, slipped it back inside its addressed envelope and set them on his desk. He pulled out a piece of parchment and was about to write something, when he stopped. He heard a pounding coming down the hallway and the sound projected through his room.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

It got louder and Harry felt a shiver run through his spine. He heard the feet coming and could tell which foot from which. Left, right, left, right, left. He could smell the scent of a sleeping cream that Aunt Petunia used on her face to stop her wrinkles from growing, but Harry knew it wasn't his Aunt. It was his Uncle.

"Potter!" A voice boomed from the hall.

There was a shuffle of feet and a large growl noise coming from the voice outside the door. The clicking and scratching noise of the locks that clicked when they were unlocked. Harry's heart raced as he meant to stash the letters, but was too late. His uncle stormed into his room and noticed the letters he was shoving under his pillow with fear in his shaky body.

"You are supposed to be sleeping!" His uncle's purple voice growled loudly. "What have I told you about that ruddy owl? What's this?" He asked after pushing Harry out of the way and throwing his pillow off.

"Nothing," Harry said hastily as he fell off the bed and onto the floor. He winced again.

"LETTERS! I TOLD YOU NO MORE LETTERS BOY!" His uncle shouted and Harry was surprised if there were still people in the house sleeping. "PICKING YOU UP TOMORROW?" He shouted and had un-expectantly slapped Harry across the face. "YOU DEFIED MY RULES!" Vernon shouted louder.

"I'm sorry," Harry pleaded as he shuffled across the floor in fear.

"Oh, no, apologies from you boy, you will pay the toll." Vernon glared.

Harry couldn't help but gulp in fear and everything after that moment was fuzzy. Harry had become unconscious at that moment. He was about to fight back when everything had become black.

About four hours of being out he had begun to stir. Pain was all through-out his body and bleeding cuts were all over him. His face sheared with pain and he had barely enough strength to move onto his bed. He didn't care if he bled through out the night, but he needed to do something else.

He needed to free himself from this pain and give himself a different pain. He opened his bedside table drawer and pulled out a ratting sock. He stuck his hand inside and pulled out a wedge of broken glass and gripped it in his fingers. He looked up to the ceiling to find more indentations and looked back to the glass gripped in his hand. He took the wedge and brought it quickly against his forearm.

A large drop of blood dripped down his arm and onto his whitened sheets. Tears formed in his eyes as he did this again, and again, and again. Stopping before it got out of hand, he place it back into the drawer. This was an odd way of relieving pain, but what more did he have? He cried into his bloody hands as they dripped with thick drops of deep red blood.

Sticky blood began to dry as he fell into a painful sleep. He didn't know why he did these things, but it's the only thing that seemed to come to his mind. Harry had been through a lot and being beaten by his uncle wasn't helping much. Harry had nothing else to do, but cause himself more pain. He would be out of the house in less then eight hours, or hopefully Ron would be here by then.

The time flew by and Harry had woken sleepily at eight in the morning. He had gotten only about three hours worth of sleep, but he insisted he didn't need it. He dressed slowly that morning because of the pain through-out his body and he had some difficulties. Harry stood in his dressed form and limped his way to the window.

He picked up a quill and quickly scratched something on a piece of parchment. The paper was crimpled, but it was all he had left since last term. He scribbled the message as Hedwig awoke by the noise of hastily scratching of quill on parchment. She hooted wonderingly.

Ron,

If you are awake. Pick me up now. It's an emergency!

Harry

Harry tied it to Hedwig's leg before turning around and watching her fly from her cage and through the window after Harry had released her from the cage. Harry took a bar out of his desk and opened his window. He broke through a barrier; his uncle had put it up, and pulled the pieces into his room so it made no sound. There was already a hole, just enough for Hedwig to fit through, but not himself.

Harry assumed the Dursleys were still sleeping, because there were no loud noises what so ever. He would have heard loud feet from Vernon, loud squeals of happiness from Petunia, or loud yelling about small breakfasts from Dudley. God, how he hated mornings.

He looked into his reflection in his window glass. He couldn't make out every detail, because his window was tinted yellow, but he could still see each bruise on his body. He then noticed something. He moved closer to his reflection to notice that the large bruise on his throat were two large handprints: Vernon's.

He couldn't have Mrs. Weasley see him in this state. She would be too worried about anything. He was still sore, but other matters were at hand. He shuffled his feet back to his trunk and packed quickly. He pulled out an odd arrangement of clothes, but it would hide all his marks.

He pulled on a long sleeve black shirt with long olive colored pants. He then wrapped a scarf around his throat to hide the marks on his neck and set a pair of sunglasses around his puffy, black eyes. He lastly put on a black hat to hide any marks that he didn't know about and a pair of wool gloves to hide his hands. He looked at him self. He looked ridiculous, but there was no time to spare in such a crisis.

He looked out the window and saw something move. A noise then came towards his window and a compartment out of no where showed up. Harry realized it was the trunk of a car, but the car was invisible. Harry dashed around his room and shoved all his things inside and then knocked on the hood of the trunk to tell that it was full. Harry then waited as a door opened and he saw the thin markings of the car turn to its side.

Harry grabbed Hedwig and was first to see Ron's worried face before anyone else. He then saw Hermione in the back when he climbed in and set Hedwig aside of her. She had puffy eyes and Harry reached back to give her a hug and winced slightly from the pain.

"Thank god." Harry said after releasing Hermione.

"Harry," Ron said awkwardly. "What are you wearing?" He asked as he began to drive away from Surrey.

"Oh... umm, nothing." He said hastily. "I don't want to be seen." He said. It was the first thing that popped into his head.

"But," Ron started. "We're invisible... no one can see us." Ron looked at Harry as if he was retarded.

"Look I don't want to talk about it!" He said more powerfully as he turned to his side to look at Hermione.

She had puffy eyes too, but she couldn't seem to make a sound. It seemed like she was no longer talking to anyone, but that wasn't possible. She had begged Harry for his help in this un-likely matter, and he would stick by her as long as she needed him. She cried into her hands.

"Hermione," Harry spoke softly. "I'm sorry to hear about your father." He said gently.

"It's alright," Hermione hiccupped. "I'll get through this." She said and Ron made a coughing noise.

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed. "I've been trying to get you to talk to me after when you told me, but you wouldn't. You can talk to Harry though?" He asked in a joking wonder.

"I feel more comfortable, with Harry, Ron." She spoke softly.

"Why?" He wondered. "Because he's your boyfriend?" He joked as he received a punch in the arm from Harry.

"No!" She said angrily. "He's an orphan! Meaning he has no parents! He's been through this Ron... you haven't." She said lightly.

Harry had knelt on his seat for a minute to move to the back to sit with Hermione. She was still crying as he stepped over the stick shift and stumbled into the back seat. Hermione turned to him, looked at him strangely, and then pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Ow, ow, ow..." Harry said trailing off.

"Sorry," Hermione apologized.

"No, it is alright." He reassured. "I'm just a little... sore." He said oddly.

Ron was looking through his rear-view mirror to listen and to watch closely. Ron squinted slightly and noticed something. He wondered something and looked back and forth from the sky line to the mirror before he spoke unexpectedly.

"Hey Harry," Ron started and Harry looked up through his sunglasses. "What's that gash on the side of your face?" He asked.

Harry felt along his side and his fingers pulled lightly across it. A long gash was in the side of his face that stretched from the bottom of his ear lobe to the middle of his cheek. He moved his scarf to hide it and turned. He stared out the window and said the first thing that popped into his head.

"Nothing." He said simply.

"What's that one?" Hermione asked as she pulled her own fingers across a scratch right under his glasses' rim. Harry recoiled away from the pain.

"Nothing," He said simply again.

"Come on Harry." Hermione said with a confused look on her face. "Where are these scratches coming from?" She asked.

"No where." He said and went to move back into the front seat.

He stopped. As he moved his scarf had gotten caught in the seat belt loop and had pulled off his neck completely. Hermione let out a gasp and Harry tried covering his neck back up, but Hermione had stopped him. Her eyes filled with more tears and Harry looked away, angry with himself.

"Harry," Hermione gasped. "What... what happened to you?" She asked in fear.

"Ron, this is why I said it was an emergency." He said hastily. "I should have told you, but…"

Harry pulled off his coat, sunglasses, gloves and hat. He didn't have bleeding cuts anymore, but his bruises were larger and darker then ever. He felt his face grow hot with embarrassment and Ron had shoved his foot on the brake pedal and they remained hovering in the air. Ron turned.

"What the hell Harry?" Ron asked, amazed and shocked beyond all belief.

"My... my..." He stuttered and Hermione took his scratched hand in hers.

"You didn't do this to yourself," Hermione started. "Did you?" She asked. She hoped the answer was no.

"No." He said quickly.

He couldn't tell her that he had been cutting himself. She would think things about him that he didn't want her to. Harry couldn't help but feel for her in this crisis, and being with her didn't allow secrets like that being told. He couldn't, not when she sits next to him crying about her father. Harry didn't blame her though.

"And the rest?" She wondered.

"My uncle," Harry mumbled. She had actually heard him though.

Hermione went to touch his chest, but he winced quite loudly. She tugged on the rim on his sweater to see underneath and she saw it. The hand marks, the bruises, the scars, and some bleeding scratches. Harry pulled his sweater back down quickly as she began to whisper to herself. He looked away, and he didn't want to look back at her to see more tears. That's what hurt the worst.

Hermione pulled him back into a hug and a rage of furiousness towards his muggle of an uncle. Ron shook his head in disbelief and turned back to his attention on the skyline. Harry was trying to push Hermione off of him and stop her tears from falling. She felt horrible, but instead she pulled Harry's face towards hers so they stared at each other.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, whispering.

"Because," He said just as silently so Ron wouldn't hear as he began to blast music in the front of the car. "I didn't want to you worry."

Hermione did something at that moment. Hermione and Harry stared at each other when she pushed herself forward and kissed his lips gently. Tears flowed down her face as she felt the sudden movement against her lips as he kissed her back. She lay against him with tears in her eyes.

"You can tell me anything." She said. "I want you to know that."

"I do." He responded and kissed the top of her head.

Author's Notes:

What do y'all think? Good enough to continue or shall it not be continued? Please tell me if it's that bad. Which it probably is, but tell me anyways! Lol. If you wish to update I will in a week. Thanks y'all! I cleared up some mistakes on this chapter, so enjoy!

Airalynn

RE-POST: (SUNDAY) JUNE 10, 2005 – 5 days till the Half Blood Prince!