A/N- Okay, this is what is happening: I've got such an overused plot and crappy chapters with Saving Sirius, so I'm abandoning it! Muuaaahhh! I'm redoing my other story, 'Far From Home' for all of you guys' benefits! Anyway – onto the revised chapter one which should be miles longer than before.

/ … /- Parcelmouth

' … '- Thought

" … "- Talking

Far From Home

Chapter 1: As Ordinary as Possible

Today should have started out normal – it did, with the exception of the Dursleys. He had been minding his own business, just sitting in his room, starring out the window. If you had looked close enough, you would have realized that this boy was not ordinary, not at all. As his piercing gaze looked upon you, you would shrivel up – die. His emotions flickered in and out of his eyes, pain being the strongest out of all these. He shouldn't have looked like that, but he'd seen so many things a boy his age shouldn't have seen. He was lucky that his friends were there for him, though. They always made the pain go away – he would smile.

Not now, not ever again. A couple months back, he had witnessed his own godfather's death – the murderer being his own cousin. He had decided to seek revenge, but his mortal enemy – the one who had ripped everything from him – had interfered. Luckily his headmaster had stepped in before the enemy had killed him, the 'Savior of the Wizarding World'. How was he supposed to be the savior if he couldn't even save himself? He had the worst luck – even destiny wise. He often wondered if he'd be as happy as his best guy mate if he had a large family and odd, but loving, parents who'd hug him everyday and tell him he was loved.

What if he was like his best girl mate? Having both parents their, but no siblings. He'd have been happy, just having parents. Why did everything happen to him? It wasn't fair.

'Why is my life like this – it's not fair … He shouldn't have had to die … It's all my fault…'

' No,' said another voice in his head, 'It was his fault – he left Grimmauld Place!'

' That's not true!' Harry reasoned.

' Is so!'

What was he doing? Talking to himself and answering back – a sure sign of madness. He blinked his eyes rapidly as the tears threatened to fall, but one escaped, slowly running down his cheek and dripping onto the floor. Wiping his cheek on his overly sized shirt, which had once belonged to his cousin the 'Whale', he sat slowly down on the rugged, damp floor. Loosening the floorboard, he pulled out his wand and invisibility cloak. He looked at them for a second, putting them back in. They brought to many memories. His wand – in which he had tried to hurt his godfather's cousin, after she had killed him. He felt the rushing tears leaking out as he remembered as he fell into the Veil. The Veil – it was an odd artifact, but why? Why had Sirius rushed to conclusions to come and save him? Why had he sacrificed himself? Most of Harry's questions revolved around 'Why'. Like, Why was he here? Not at Hogwarts? Why were his friends there? Helping?

He thought back to all the days in Hogwarts, even his favorite Christmas where he had gotten his dad's cloak. This brought a new wave of thoughts to him. When he had seen Snape's memory, he had been disgusted. Had his father really when that bad? Hexing people for the fun of it? And his mother? She was at least mannerable, but how had they gotten together? They were total opposites. But at the wedding picture, they looked so happy! What had changed? He was going to ask Sirius that question one day, but now … Remus could answer him, as long as if wasn't in riddles.

Riddle … Tom Riddle … The Enemy … The Murderer. He took a deep breath and sat up, he needed some fresh air – not to think - just to keep his mind from thinking. Thinking on brought on waves of dizziness. Waves of dizziness? What was he talking about? Thinking didn't do that! He shook his head slightly and walked out of his room door, shouting it soundlessly as he slowly walked down the hall, reaching the stairs. Climbing them down slowly, carefully avoiding the squeaky step, he opened the front door and climbed out of the house. It was almost pitch black out, seeing as it was 2o'clock in the morning.

He knew he shouldn't have been out this early, or at all. With Riddle having his body reconnected to him, it meant that nobody was safe – not even the Muggles. The Muggles - the poor muggles … they had no idea of what was to come … None at all … He was seeking out military and governmental muggles to do his aids. The only reason that he knew all of this was that the Enemy and he had a link. A special connection. Once, the Enemy had possessed him – his body had screamed in terror, but his mouth would not move – he didn't utter one scream.

As he slowly made it around the block, the wind had picked up, it was blowing that a tornado, the sky had darkened and little flashes of light could be seen illuminating the sky along with big bangs. He sighed, he had to get home, if he didn't he was in deep, deep trouble. He knew that, but did he want to return?

'No … I want a place that I can call home. Not a school … Not a dingy old room filled with his cousin's junk … not a cupboard. He wanted his own bedroom that he could relax in … he wanted parents who would love him…'

He sighed as he slowly went up the lawn into Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, opened the door and walked inside. Today was going to be a long day …

A/N: I know – this isn't what you expected! Next chapter will be better, and I know this isn't 'miles' longer, but hopefully it'll still be longer than before! LOL.