Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing to do with Harry Potter, except for the plot of this story.

Note: This is story was inspired by a few different things, but the idea of This Fragile Thing came mainly from the song "Only One" by Yellowcard.

Chapter 1 - Prologue

Harry Potter sighed as the Dursley's brand new expensive sports sedan stopped rather forcefully in front of King's Cross Station. With the key still in the ignition, Vernon Dursley turned around in the driver's chair to face his nephew in the back seat.

"Get out, boy," he spat, a contemptuous sneer hidden under his thick moustache. "I've had enough of you. Out!"

Harry didn't bother to bid his relatives goodbye as he climbed out of the car. Grabbing Hedwig's cage from beside him and his large and heavy trunk from the boot, he scanned the entrance of the station for a trolley. Finding one, he went to grab it, while the Dursleys sped off, no doubt in transit to celebrate Harry's leave from their presence for another year.

Harry took a deep breath before entering the building. He had promised himself he would do this; it wasn't for him, it was for them. If it was for him, of course, he wouldn't have even considered it. He made an oath to himself not to back out as he pushed the doors open.

Looking around, he breathed a sigh of relief - no sign of Ron or Hermione. As inconspicuously as he could, with a large trunk and caged owl, Harry walked quickly to the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, grateful that no one was there. Without stopping, Harry began to jog right at the barrier, closing his eyes briefly as he went through the brick column and back out the other side onto the platform that was 9 ¾.

He quickly looked around at the young witches and wizards still standing on the platform, accompanied by their parents. At first glance, Harry caught no glimpse of the flaming red hair or the foresty mane of bushy brown he had grown so accustomed to. Taking no chances, though, Harry made his way to the third cart of the train. It was better to find a compartment there, instead of getting comfortable near the back, where they usually sat.

Finding an empty compartment, Harry hastily shoved his luggage in and shut it. Lucky.

Finally, Harry was able to sit back and take a breath. He couldn't kid himself much longer; he knew sitting in a different part of the train would only delay his friends finding him, not throw them off completely.

Harry closed his eyes, letting his head roll back and running his hands through his hair. He was making the right choice, right? Why was it so difficult if it was so right, then? He looked out the window, reminiscing about his very first train ride to Hogwarts. With Ron. Looking sharply away from the window, Harry came to a harsh, yet obvious realization.

Harry had always been aware of his uncommon desire to be at school all year round; he did, after all, feel more at home at Hogwarts than anywhere else. So, he had never questioned it. It wasn't until now, although, that he realized that it was at Hogwarts where he was surrounded by the people he loved. Ron and Hermione were hardly ever out of his sight, and they were always more than willing to lend an ear, or risk their lives, for Harry.

Harry groaned. He wished he could stop thinking. Thinking was clouding his will, and he wouldn't have that. Not with what he was about to do. Had to do.

Harry sighed. "School's going to be hell," he said aloud to no one, or nothing, in particular. Who would he hang out with? What would it be like in class, having to be in the same roo--

"Oh, there he is, Ron, in the second compartment!"

Harry stopped thinking when he heard Hermione's relieved tone. She had seen him through the window on the door; it had only been a matter of time.

Harry sat up straight, screwing his eyes in concentration. The last thought to go through his mind, as he sensed Ron's hand grasping the door handle, was that he had had never been good at acting.

----

"I can't believe this. First, he doesn't show up at the Order, and now he plays hide 'n' seek with us on the train? I'm getting fed up," Hermione let out in an exasperated tone.

Ron nodded in response, looking into yet another compartment. He hadn't said much, but Hermione could tell he was extremely worried. "We can't look for him much longer, either, the Prefects are expected up at the front soon."

Hermione sighed, quickening her pace and re-examining the room Ron had just checked. She couldn't help but feel uneasy about Harry's absence. She usually didn't have to go this long without seeing him, and at the end of their last school year, their fifth, excited plans had been made between the trio for all their time at the Order's headquarters at Grimmauld Place.

Everything was going according to plan, as well, until they received a letter from Dumbledore a couple of days before Lupin, Moody and Tonks were planning to go fetch Harry from his mandatory visit to Privet Drive.

Hermione thoughtlessly touched her shoulder bag as her and Ron kept searching. Inside it was Dumbledore's letter, which she had read countless times.

Dearest Molly, Arthur, Remus, Alastor, Nymphadora, Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, and anyone else my feather-brained self has carelessly forgotten,

Firstly, I must express my relief at all of your safe arrivals. Although, I had no doubts in the safety precautions put in place by Alastor and Remus. Still, it is calming to know everything has gone to plan and there are no bumps in the road as of yet.

I'm happy to announce that Harry is currently safe and well at his relatives'. He is fed and watered, and keeping himself busy with his jovial cousin, Dudley.

Harry has recently been in contact with me about his resting place for the rest of the summer. Despite the rather frightening encounter he and his cousin had with a number of Dementors this time last year, Harry has expressed interest in staying with the Dursley's for the remainder of holidays.

I warned him against this, assuring him that he has two splendid friends in you, Ron and Hermione, and that you were impatiently awaiting his arrival. But, he was adamant, insisting everyone would be safer this way.

Although the boy is sadly mistaken, as everyone will be safe, no matter where he stays, I can not do much to change his mind. The Dursley's humble abode in most surely under numerous charms and shields to protect Harry, and there is no way he can be harmed inside that house.

So, it is with this that I must ask you bunch not to go looking for Harry. We must respect his free will, as he would most surely do with us. He also told me to tell you that any mail sent his way will not be returned. "For protection" was the reason given.

Best wishes,

Albus Dumbledore

Even with the warning, Ron and Hermione had pestered Harry with owls. At first, their letters read of their frustration and curiosity at his absence. The letters were not returned. Slowly, the subject of Harry's mail had switched to simple updates about what was happening at the Order, and once in a while, they would send food packages.

Their letters still weren't returned.

All this, along with Harry's apparent absence from the train sent a foreboding chill down Hermione's spine, as she and Ron made their way up to the third cart of the Hogwart's Express.

"You know," said Ron, worry creeping into his voice, we can't look for much longer, we'll be in trouble with McGonagall."

Hermione clicked her tongue, straining between worry for Harry and the need to be on time. Elongating her neck, she saw something that made her body relax.

She laughed in relief. "Oh, there he is, Ron, in the second compartment!"

Ron craned his neck to look as he kept walking. Seeing Harry as well, his face broke into a smile. After taking a quick look at his wristwatch, he opened the door.

The two burst into the room. "Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry took his eyes off of the window nonchalantly, as though he was just casually looking around the room. He looked at the couple, void of excitement. "Oh, hi."

Hermione could tell Ron was slightly perturbed by Harry's less-than-warm welcome, but he went on anyway. "Where were you all summer, mate? Why didn't you come back to the Order?"

Harry shrugged, looking out the window once again. "Don't ask stupid questions, Ron, you know where I was. I just didn't want to come."

Ron opened and closed his mouth several times, no sound coming out. He quickly cleared his throat. "That's not what you said to Dumbledore."

Harry snorted. "Oh, please, Weasley, like I'd tell him the truth. He'd try to fix the situation, and truthfully, there's nothing to be fixed."

"Did you just call me 'Weasley?'"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Good job, glad you spotted that."

The shocked look on Ron's face was replaced by an expression of slight betrayal.

"Why are you doing this, Harry? Why are you acting so weird?" Hermione asked hesitantly, trying not to sound too suspicious or hurt.

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his temples before looking up at Ron and Hermione, who were still standing. "It's simple, Granger. I'm Harry Potter."

The simple sentence, said with such force, coupled with Harry's careless use of her last name, hit Hermione so hard that she felt the need to sit down. She didn't dare look up at Ron, who didn't say anything either.

Harry continued in their silence. "I'm Harry Potter. The god damned Boy Who Lived, perhaps you've heard of me? Last year I got a taste of just how known I am; just how much everyone hangs off of my every word or action. I'm an influential member of the wizarding world. One of the most, to be honest."

"Don't be a prat," spat Ron. "All you received last year was bad press! Half of us hated you, and now you decided you like being famous?"

"You didn't let me finish, Weasley, mind your manners," said Harry calmly. "All the bad press last year made me realize just how public my reputation is. Now that I'm a little angel again, I need to preserve my good reputation." He paused, looking out the window. "It's high time I stop hanging out with riff raff."

Hermione couldn't hold back any longer, furious. "Riff raff? Since when are we 'riff raff?!'"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, Granger. Weasley, how many times has your father been reprimanded in the Daily Prophet? I'd be surprised if he has any friends or admirers outside of the Order." Ron's ears went pink. "And Granger, here," Harry continued, "well, her type isn't exactly the most respected among wizards whose opinions really matter."

Harry said this looking straight at Hermione. Although, she wouldn't have known, as her eyes were gradually filling with tears. "So," she choked out, "you don't want to hang out with me because I'm a Mudblood."

"Well, I'm no Malfoy, I wouldn't have put it that way…"

Hermione stood up. "You're no better than him." And with that, she walked out of the compartment.

She heard Ron stand up behind her. "Congrats on being famous. You now have no friends."

He walked out of the compartment, slamming the door. "Let's go, Hermione."

----

Ron's voice muffled as he slammed the door shut, rattling the glass.

Harry sat back, punching his fist into the cushioned seat. Well, he had done it. He had pushed his two best friends far enough away that they would never come back.

Harry let the tears fall down his face as he turned to lie down on the bench. He couldn't regret what he had just done: as much as he had just hurt his comrades, pain was nothing compared to death.

Harry cared for no one more than he cared for the two people he had just pushed miles away. The problem was that Voldemort knew that. The trio had never talked about Ron and Hermione being obvious targets for the Dark Lord, but Harry had decided to take matters into his own hands after he had risked their lives last year.

Another wave of tears overcame Harry. His love for his two best friends could only be matched by his love for Sirius.

Sirius was dead.

Well, now neither Ron or Hermione will die. People will stop dying because of me.

I just wish it wouldn't hurt so much.

A/N - I hope that was alright, it's just an introduction to the idea of the story. I have the second chapter done, and will be posting it later today. Thanks!