Summary: Fifth-year AU. Harry is actually expelled from Hogwarts and, much to the protestation of the Dursleys, is forced to once again live at Privet Drive. One day, he meets a girl at the park. May or may not be more interesting than it sounds. GoF and OotP spoilers. Rating is because I think it sounds about right.

AN: I'm not looking for reviews, and unless you actually have constructive criticism I'd rather you didn't say anything. So yeah, both praise and flames will be pretty much ignored. And PLEASE, do NOT write reviews saying nothing but "please update soon," they're extremely annoying and do not motivate me at all. I'm not writing this story for anyone but myself; I just want to write it and then reread it in a few years to see how it turned out. Call it a Mary Sue if you like, it might even be one. The way I'll try to write it, my OC should have too many character flaws to qualify as such and her only "magic power" is a lack of any magic whatsoever. Also, things may be wrong in terms of following the cannon line. Either I don't really care or I changed it for my own purposes. I will update only when I have time and when I feel like it, and I don't often have time, and my moods kind of cycle every several months, so I'm usually only motivated to write (and have time) about once or twice every six months. I also doubt that I'll actually complete this story, I haven't managed to complete one yet. Also, I don't really know where the title came from. I made it up in two seconds, it doesn't actually have anything to do with my planned plot. Maybe I'll work it in somehow, maybe it'll just be there.

-----

Chapter 1 – "Run"

Harry Potter was in shock. How could this have happened? How could he have actually been expelled? How did he wind up with having to stay at the Dursleys? Until he was EIGHTTEEN, no less, as in the muggle world he wouldn't be able to legally do anything until then. And no one in the wizarding world would hire him; he no longer even had a wand. Why didn't he have a wand? Oh… That's right. Fudge had gleefully snapped it in front of his face. At the ministry. Right. He was expelled now. How could that have happened? He was attacked by dementors, he'd had to use magic, was everyone on the ministry so blind to that?

Well they didn't believe him about Voldemort either. Voldemort… Oh God. Cedric. It was all his fault… Cedric had been killed, and now Voldemort was alive. Oh God, oh God… And it was all his fault. Cedric was dead and Voldemort was alive and it was all his fault and no one believed him except Dumbledore but Dumbledore was ignoring him hadn't even looked his way all his fault how did it happen his fault why why why…

Abruptly, Harry ended his train of thought by banging his head against the wall a couple of times. The pain distracted him, he didn't think when he was in pain. Gradually the pain ebbed a bit and, unwillingly, he thought again.

Hogwarts. Why wasn't he at Hogwarts right now? Oh yeah. He was expelled. And he'd helped to bring Voldemort back. It didn't matter that he hadn't wanted it… It was his blood now flowing through Voldemort's veins. It was he who had told Cedric to take the cup. It was all his fault. Cedric was dead, and Voldemort was back, and it was all his fault. He was a bad person. Maybe that's why they had expelled him. Because he was a bad person, he had killed Cedric and brought Voldemort back to life. It was all his fault… Everything was his fault. He was to blame. For Voldemort, for Cedric, for Dudley… his own cousin, who was now in a mental ward because dementors had been attacking him, Harry, not Dudley, it was all Harry's fault, his fault…

He hit his head against the wall until there someone furiously pulled him away from it. Why were they stopping him? He didn't want to think anymore, thoughts hurt worse than anything else. A slap across the face stopped Harry's hysteria. Why was his face wet? Touching the wetness, he looked at his hands. Tears? When had he started crying?

"I'll not have you putting holes in my walls. Get out of the house. Go somewhere. Do something. Anything! But for goodness sake, stop making that God-forsaken racket!" Aunt Petunia pulled him out of his room, down the stairs, and pushed him out the door, throwing his shoes after him. "Don't come back until you can stop damaging my walls!" she yelled before slamming the door.

Dumbly, Harry stared at his shoes. They were old and worn; the ends of the laces were fraying, too. Sitting on the front steps, he put them on. Why was he outside? Aunt Petunia had kicked him out. She didn't want him to make noise. Why was he making noise? Oh yeah.. oh. Oh. OH.

He got up and started walking briskly, focusing on where he put his feet and exactly what it felt like to walk. If he could just focus on walking he wouldn't have to think… Focus on walking. Don't step on the gum, it'll stick to the floor in the house and Aunt Petunia will be angry. Focus on walking. Focus on walking. FOCUS ON WALKING.

The bad thoughts were creeping in anyway.

Harry broke into a rather blind run, not paying attention to anything but staying off of the road. That helped. Maybe if he could just run a bit faster, everything would just go away… Just a bit faster… He should do this every day. It helped, and if he ran instead of damaging the wall, his aunt wouldn't be so angry with him. Running was great. Running was –

SMACK

Harry collided with something. He and the something each gave a startled gasp before falling to the ground.