Disclaimer: I'll be able to gain the ability to shit gold bricks before I'll be able to own the world of Harry Potter.

Rating: M – for…well you'll see.

FYI – if you flame me for the maleXmale themes and scenes, I'll laugh at you and then send you hardcore gay porn. There's your warning.

So, I didn't get the reviews I wanted but that did not stop me from writing the first chapter. Unfortunately, I have lost my flash drive with the original story in it so I will be starting fresh. I will attempt to update when I can but I have a loaded schedule and a LOT of homework that will prohibit me from writing as much as I want. Maybe now that I have a real chapter up, more people will be willing to read and review and therefore I will feel more obligated to write.

Chapter One: Ode to Summer Holidays

Harry awoke to the sound of Aunt Petunia's screech. "Get up you filthy boy! Hurry up! Take a shower! Comb your hair! Get dressed! And for the good Lord's sake hurry it up! You have to make breakfast for Vernon and Dudley!" Harry sighed as she closed the door of his bedroom behind her. It was the summer holidays; shouldn't he be sleeping in or something? Oh, that's right; Dudley had to go to boxing practice at five every morning. Harry cringed, that avalanche of fat and muscle did not need to work out anymore. He would just take it out on Harry. Besides that, Harry was fifteen, so why was Petunia still treating him like he was five?

Harry sighed as he got out of bed and headed to the shower with the bundle of clothes Aunt Petunia had thrown at his head. Luckily, she was a horrible throw at 4:30 in morning. It was best if he didn't tell her that though because he knew if he did, Vernon would teach him a lesson "the old-fashion way" as he put it.

Harry sighed peacefully as the hot water ran through is hair and over his body. Harry's body, now there was a reason to get up in the mornings. His body was lithe and finely muscled, drool worthy by anyone's standards. Through Harry only topped out somewhere between 5'-7" and 5'-8", Harry had the muscle and grace of a seasoned and overly-practiced Quidditch player; when he walked it looked like was for the first time since the ground seemed foreign to him but he quickly transitioned and it again looked like he was flying through the air with each light step. Harry had also developed a nice tan since he had been tending Petunia's garden shirtless every day of this dry, cloudless summer so far.

Harry was rinsing the soap off when he heard the door creek open. He peered through the clear plastic lining and saw the blurred image of a blond head sticking around the door. "Dudley?" he called cautiously to the head. The head disappeared and the door slammed shut. Yup, that was Dudley. He had been acting strangely like that ever since Harry had returned home.

Harry sighed as he turned off the water, immediately missing its warm touch on his skin. Harry pulled back the plastic lining and put on his glasses. His shower had no real shower curtain, just a plastic lining to keep the water in, and the lock on the bathroom door had stopped working years ago but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon reasoned that since Harry was the only one who used that bathroom and since they didn't care about Harry, why fix anything?

The lack of a lock and a shower curtain had instilled a sense of vulnerability in Harry a long time ago and with Dudley acting funny this summer, Harry quickly mastered the ability to completely dry off and put his clothes on in less that two minutes. Quite a talent.

Harry raced downstairs to start making breakfast before Petunia could start squawking at him. He looked over the "meal schedule" Petunia had created to ensure nutritious meals for her favorite men without having to talk to Harry. The schedule was in the form of a grid, color coded by day and meal. Harry always inwardly chuckled to himself when he saw that tea time was apparently a meal for Dudley. A box of recipes sat on the kitchen window sill for Harry's reference so that he couldn't mess up the meals. They too were color coded by day and meal and they were alphabetized. Harry pulled out his cooking equipment from the "breakfast cabinet" and the appropriate food from the "breakfast section" in the refrigerator. Harry mused over the thought that if Petunia could really have her way there would be five refrigerators in the house – four in the kitchen for breakfast, lunch, tea time, and dinner and the fifth one in Dudley's room so she wouldn't have to see or smell his fitness shakes. They smelled like bad milk and soybean byproducts. Petunia hated them.

Harry whipped up some homemade diabetic pancakes and some sausages with machine efficiency. Dudley couldn't have the excessive sugar and Vernon had let his diet get so out of hand that he was borderline diabetic. But thankfully for Harry, with his relatives out of the house so much and some recipes Hermione had sent him, he still ate the occasional good, fattening meal.

Dudley, Petunia, and Vernon arrived to a set table with hot food. They sat and ate without one glance at Harry. Harry had to eat his food in the kitchen, not the dining room with his so-called family. It never bothered him though; he had grown up like this. This was how things were meant to be. It had been encrypted into his mind a long time ago.

He could hear his Aunt Petunia praying over the food and blessing it so that her family wouldn't catch anything that the "freak" might have. Harry let out a small, shallow, sad sigh. After last summer with the Dementor incident, Petunia had devoted herself to the church, seeking religious comfort from the close contact with the magical world. Harry had returned to Privet Drive to find a crucifix nailed to his door and another over his bed. He had woken up the next morning to find Petunia attempting an exorcism on him. There seemed to be a renewed effort by his aunt and uncle to get the magic out of him. His aunt tried to get the magic out religiously and his uncle tried the "old fashioned way" – beating the shit out of him.

Harry just couldn't decide what was worse – the occasional punch to the shoulder or being randomly blinded by holy water splashed in his face. But, deep down, it all hurt him. He didn't have his parents and after being with the Weasleys so much, all he wanted was a family. It's just that his family didn't want him. Now with Sirius gone… Harry felt a tear roll down his cheek and quickly wiped it away. No, he would not dwell on that now. Right now, Vernon was calling his name and crying would only get him beat.

"Harry!" Vernon voice brought Harry out of his thoughts and he quickly went to his uncle.

"Yes sir?" Harry tried to sound as respectful as possible. For the love of Merlin, he really didn't want to be there.

"Boy, I had to call your name twice. Come over here!" Harry took a few steps forward with the feeling of purposely walking into a brick wall. Vernon's fist made contact with Harry's face and Harry fell backwards. The brick wall won again as Harry tasted the familiar slick, coppery liquid fill his mouth. Harry fought the basic instinct to spit out his blood as he stood back up. He was kicked back down with a foot to his stomach. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand as he started coughing. "And that was for forgetting the strawberries. Now go get them boy!" Vernon grunted as he turned back to his plate.

Harry stood up again and said, "We ran out of strawberries and the ones in the garden are not ready to be picked. Aunt Petunia forgot to buy them when she went grocery shopping."

This time Harry was backhanded but he caught himself before falling again. "That was for back talking me," Vernon said and slapped him again, "And that was for not reminding your aunt to pick up some strawberries."

"Dear," Petunia said nonchalantly, "I told you, they were too expensive. In a week, we'll have freshly picked ones."

"Really, dear? Guess I forgot," Vernon turned back to Harry with a glare. "Well? What are you standing around for?"

Harry shook his head and turned around to leave. He tripped and fell to the floor. Harry fixed his glasses and looked over his shoulder to see Dudley staring at him. There was something in his cousin's eyes that made Harry draw back and caused a chill to crawl down his back.

"Good going son. Keep the freak down on the ground where he belongs." Vernon patted Dudley on his shoulder proudly before turning back to his newspaper, never seeing the way Dudley was staring. Dudley's stare left Harry's and lingered down his body.

Harry swiftly hopped back up and left before Dudley could trip him again. Dudley was acting rather strange this summer and he didn't want to find out why.

It wasn't long before Vernon left for work and Dudley and Petunia left for boxing practice and errands. Harry promptly cleaned up the dining room and kitchen then started on the rest of his chores. It was noon before a car pulled into the driveway. Harry was in the backyard cutting the grass with a lawnmower that Harry swore was at least twice his age. The old, rusted, and busted up thing had broken down, again, and Harry was fixing it, again. Harry heard the back door open and he shouted, "I'm sorry Aunt Petunia, but the lawnmower broke down again. I'll be in to fix lunch in a second." When Harry didn't get a response, he turned around to see who it was. Dudley was walking over to him with two of his boxing buddies flanking him. Harry held the wrench tightly in his hand as all the sirens in his head went off. He was in danger.

"Hey Harry," Dudley called calmly as he strolled casually across the lawn. "Why don't you come inside and fix lunch now."

Harry stoop up, wrench stiff in his white knuckled hand, and replied, "I'm just going to finish fixing the mower."

Dudley's eyes were roaming over his body again and Harry really wished he hadn't left his shirt inside. His vulnerability was chewing on his insides, making him feel smaller and weaker with each passing moment. Then he noticed that Dudley's buddies were mimicking Dudley and fear started to creep in on him. Harry had all of his chores done and the mower had broken down with a little grass left behind the gardening shack. Uncle Vernon never went back there anyway so he could back to that later. Harry was allowed to leave after his chores were done. Well, they hadn't told him anything to contradict that at least. So maybe he could? Petunia still wouldn't be back for hours. She had a ladies' book club meeting and bible study group to attend. Harry quickly thought over his options: stay, and find out what Dudley and his friends wanted, or run.

Harry looked at Dudley's greedy eyes and wringing hands then Dudley's friends, one was licking his lips at Harry like he was a delicious meal, and made up his mind. Run.

Harry threw the wrench at Dudley, successfully distracting him, and ran like hell. He was able to jump the fence before Dudley and his friends recovered. They quickly followed in pursuit. Down the street and around the corner, they followed Harry like a pack of hunting dogs after their prey. Harry ran with light, quick rabbit steps and a look of survivalist determination.

He quickly thought through his current situation. He easily outran Dudley and gang and, with the hot summer sun scorching the earth without a cloud in the sky, it won't take long for Dudley to get overheated and give up. Harry wasn't sure how long it would take his friends though. Would they last longer than him? He knew if they caught up with him that they would beat him and drag him back to the Dursleys'. Then the memories of Dudley's recent strange behavior and his friends' reaction to him flashed through his mind. Harry's eyes widened in realization and horror. They were going to do worse than beat him. They were going to rape him.

With a new fire in his step, Harry raced away faster from Dudley and friends with a burst of adrenaline that his new fear gifted to him. He had to hide and quickly. Harry turned another corner, ran down a back alley, and jumped a familiar old fence. Recognizing the yard as that belonging to old Mrs. Figgs, he quickly hid in the overgrown bushes. The shade of an old tree protected him from the sun and the buses hid him from the world. It was there that Harry waited.

For over two hours, no one came for him. When the third hour came and went, Harry finally relaxed from his tense crouch. Sitting on the ground, Harry put his back against the tree and let out a long breathe didn't know he had been holding. With no one to bother him and no chores to distract him, his thoughts and depression crept to the forefront of his mind.

Why am I here? How am I supposed to call this home when no one wants me here? Aunt Petunia thinks I'm some demon child, Uncle Vernon finds great joy in seeing me suffer, and now Dudley wants to rape me! Merlin, why didn't I see that one coming? After everything he's done this summer, I should have seen it. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Accenting each 'stupid' with a hit of the back of his head to the tree, Harry cursed his obliviousness. Looking back over all the times Dudley had acted strangely, Harry's depression took over.

How am I supposed to take on Voldemort and his Death Eaters if I can't even take on Dudley and two of his friends? How am I supposed to save the wizarding world? I can't even win against my own family let alone an actual war.

Harry sighed in defeat. There was a feeling of hopelessness in the air about him as he lay down shirtless on the ground. He no longer cared if Dudley found him. His inner turmoil was nothing that physical pain could come close to. Harry was almost ready to welcome the physical pain to embrace the distraction.

Harry reminisced over his lost parents, Cedric, and now Sirius. Sirius was one of the few people in his life that gave a damn about him. He was almost a last resort in getting his parents back. Wiping the tears away, Harry vowed to write a letter to Remus. Maybe he could connect with Remus?

Another sigh escaped from Harry's lips. Remus was too busy. He'd never write back and Harry barely ever saw him anyway. Pointless then to try.

The tears flowed freely now. Where was his family? Where was his home? Where was somebody to love and care for him?

With all the spent adrenaline and heavy depression, Harry felt exhausted and he soon dozed off to sleep with thoughts of Sirius still dancing through his mind.

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