As Wednesday morning dawned, Hogwarts could find the students in first period Transfiguration busy absorbing McGonagall's somewhat lulled but important instructions for the proper procedure of larger human transfigurations. All of the students, that is, but one Mr. Harry Potter.

"Potter!" McGonagall's sharp voice rang in Harry's ear. His head snapped up with the sound of his professor's biting reprimand.

Harry realized what had happened when his eyes had cleared long enough to see McGonagall's lip pressed together in a thin line. He had spent the majority of his Double Transfiguration jerking himself awake at each lull of his head, but now it seemed he had failed in his endeavor.

"Potter, if you are in such desperate need of sleep I suggest you go somewhere else besides my classroom to do it. Do you need someone to escort you to the hospital wing?" The stern woman said with a raise of an eyebrow.

That was all Harry needed to stand at full attention. "No Professor, sorry, won't happen again." He mumbled quietly.

"I should hope not." And with that she turned back to her lecture.

Some twenty grueling minutes later he, Ron, and Hermione were finally free of the stuffy classroom and were making their way to the Great Hall for lunch. Harry wasn't so much interested in food as getting some coffee.

They plopped down on the bench across from Dean. "'Mazing she didn't take any points off though." Harry said, trying to smile with relief.

"Well I should think not!" Dean piped up, "She'd have to be a ghoul to do that. I mean I know McGonagall is strict and all, but she'd have to be a Snape to take points off you, Harry, looking like you do. You walk around like a zombie resurrected from his grave, beginning to resemble one too." Dean seemed to notice the angry look in Harry's eyes for he quickly added, "No offense mate."

It wasn't Dean's comment that bothered Harry as much as Ron and Hermione's lack of defense on his part. In fact he swore he saw them both nod their heads slightly. Gods, I need to find Ginny.

But Ginny was probably off in the Library, studying for OWLS.

Harry was able to find some relief, oddly enough, in History of Magic. He managed to stay awake long enough to hear Binns' voice drone into the story of his summer before third year.

He was shaken awake an hour later by Hermione, who for once didn't seemed peeved by the fact he'd slept through a lesson.

It was amazing how study hall never seemed to be used for actual studying. Once again, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat huddled around the hearth of the Gryffindor fireplace.

"So do you plan on telling us?" Ginny asked promptly as she nuzzled her way into his arms.

Harry blinked at her, "Tell you what?"

"Why you left the common room in the middle of the night last night with Mark Evans?"

He sighed, he was intending to his tell his friends what had transpired in Dumbledore's office that evening, but couldn't find the nerve to do it. Harry smiled mentally, that's what he had Ginny for.

It wasn't explaining the complicated family history that was hard for Harry so much as getting to the part where Sirius became involved. He just didn't want to talk about him, to anyone, but he did, despite the knife ripping at his heart.

The subdued silence that fell after Harry had finished his tale was broken just as quickly by Ron.

"Shite, we've got to get down to the pitch." Ron jumped up and summoned his broom. Harry quickly followed with Ginny at his side.

Ron looked Harry directly in his emerald eyes. "You've got an announcement to make."

With that Harry followed his friend down the many staircases to the Gryffindor team locker rooms, his stomach falling a little more with each step. When he and Ron finally made their entrance the rest of the team was already dressed and waiting.

Harry took his place facing his team. "Sorry, got held up." He noticed Ron standing sportingly at his side. "Look, I've got an announcement to make." The team bristled slightly; Harry was never one for long-winded speeches.

He took a deep breath and steeled his courage. "I'm resigning as Quidditch Captain." There was and immediate explosion of outcries. Most of the team had joined Harry on their feet. The jumble of words was incoherent to his ears.

He raised his hands placidly for quiet; it was quite a while before he received it. Colin looked utterly miserable. "But why Harry?" The rest stared at him expectantly. He had really hoped to avoid that question.

"I really do have a lot on my plate right now," he muttered pathetically.

"Well so do the rest of us, Harry," Katie spoke up. "I'm going through Newts but you don't see me quitting the team."

Ron had quickly jumped to his defense. "Listen, Bell, you don't understand -"

"Ron, stop, she didn't mean anything by it." Harry quickly interrupted him. The last thing he needed was Ginny to get suspicious. Thoughts quickly turning to Ginny, Harry noticed that she was the only one not protesting his leaving-- save Seamus, that is.

"Well Ron's right, Harry," Dean said. "I guess I don't understand. You gonna explain it to us?"

He bowed his head, and took a deep breath. Harry looked up at his team. "I'm afraid I can't, but I'm wearing my self thin and that's just not an acceptable thing for me to be doing right now.

"I'll still be your seeker and as far as I'm concerned you're not at that great of a loss. Ron will be replacing me, and he's practically been running the show any way. I really think it's for the best." Harry waved Ron forward.

Ron stood next to him very quietly. Harry took off his captain badge and slapped it in Ron's hand without hesitation. "Thanks." He whispered quietly in his friend's ear before taking a seat next to Ginny. She grasped his hand firmly.

Ron cleared his throat. "Right then, let's go run some drills." And they did.

Harry's sleep that night was relatively undisturbed, which was understandable considering he hadn't dropped off until his usual four in the morning. Harry realized when he looked at his watch the next morning that he had to try to fall asleep earlier, if for nothing else than time sake.

He hurriedly pulled on his robes, hoping to make it to Great Hall in time to grab some bacon and coffee as he was only fifteen minutes late. Grabbing his bag he raced out of the common room and down the many corridors before skidding to a halt at the large oak door that were the barrier between the Entrance Hall and the Great Hall.

He stepped through the threshold slowly regaining the capacity to breath normally. When Harry became aware of his surroundings once more, he let his eyes wander over the state of his peers.

Black robes and pointed hats were dashing across the hall. Masses of students huddled together leaning over tables, order seemed to be forgotten. He noticed Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were missing from the head table.

Harry slowly made his way to the Gryffindor table where he spotted Ron's red head. The magnitude of the whispering seemed to increase tenfold as people began to realize he had entered the hall. Harry noticed Seamus was the only one not joining in on the commotion but rather sitting calmly eating his porridge.

Harry had nearly reached the table when Ron stopped him in his path. The red head was pale and his eyes looked panicked. "Harry, let's go back to the common room." Ron had taken his arm now and was appearing to try and steer him back out the doors.

He pulled back. Harry was more confused than ever. "What, Why? What's going on? Where's Ginny?"

As Harry pushed past the crowd of people to the table, he felt Ron vainly try to grab at his arm. The pack of people spread for him like he was Moses. The center of the commotion appeared to be a copy of the Daily Prophet. He snatched it up.

Harry allowed his eyes to scan the headline. "No."

Harry Potter Abused by his Muggle Relations

Who Will Save Us Now?

It came to light three days ago by an anonymous source, and this reporter has been working tirelessly to get the inside scoop on this new development in the life of the Boy-Who-Lived. But how new is it, really?

The anonymous report gave very few details that the public would be yearning to hear so this reporter did her own investigating. Unable to contact Harry Potter himself, or any of his close friends, I went right to the source.

Once again I failed to make any contact with the Dursley themselves so I turned to their neighbors on Privet Drive and what perceptive people they were.

"That Potter Boy?" One person said when asked about his suburban neighbor. "Yeah, I seen him around. I've lived here for twenty years, watched that kid since he was old enough to walk. Never talked to 'im of course. He seemed like a shy fella and he was always too busy to have time for a chat."

When asked to elaborate he was most helpful. "Oh Yeah. He had too many chores for one kid I should think, considering I never seen that cousin of his lift a finger. Yep, he was always out working in the yard. Either pruning or painting or washing windows, you name it that kid did it. Even back when he was a tot."

I then proceeded to ask if he had ever seen the boy hurt. "Well I suppose you could say that. I always thought maybe he just got roughed up playing sports at school. He always seemed to be limping one way or another. I remember one time, he must have been about seven, he was supposed to be changing the oil on his uncles car and spilt a whole bottle of the stuff down the drive way. Was working till dusk to try to get it off but never did manage.

"I didn't seem him around for a few more days but when he did come back the side of his face was all bloodied up and he seemed to be favoring his left arm, but was still scrubbing away at that oil." I asked the man why he didn't speak to Harry Potter about the incident.

"Well I did talk to his uncle. Dursley said Potter had been playing rugby at gym and it had gotten out of hand, seemed believable enough to me."

I asked the man about more recent behavior. "Well I don't see much of him anymore. His Uncle told everyone on the street he went to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys, so I kept my distance just in case."

This testimony, along with our report from the anonymous source which clearly stated Harry Potter had suffered recent, numerous injuries at the hand of his Uncle can leave us to no longer deny the facts of Harry Potter's life outside the wizarding world. This leaves us with one question: If Harry Potter cannot save himself from the hand of a muggle, how can he manage against You-Know-Who?

Harry vaguely recognized Ron and Hermione's hands taking hold of him and guiding him out of the hall. His eyes were glued to the paper, this scramble of words that had effectively ruined him.

He knew he was no longer moving and assumed Ron and Hermione must have led him into a deserted classroom, but he felt as if there was no space to breathe despite the room's vastness. Harry needed to understand.

His breath was hitching. "It had to have been Seamus." His voice was a croak.

Hermione started. "Seamus, why Seamus?"

Harry felt completely out of control, his mind was scattered. "He-- he walked in on Ginny and me. We – we- were talking about-"

Surprisingly, Hermione's response was angry but not at Seamus. "So, everyone knew about this but me then?"

Harry was shocked out of his revere. "No, I-I just."

She didn't stop, "Does my friendship not mean as much to you as Ron and Ginny's?"

Harry stepped back from her, his temper rising. "No, of course not. They just figured it out, if I'd had my way no one would have known, least of all the Daily Prophet." Realization seemed to dawn on him. He sunk to the floor. "Merlin, this is in the Daily Prophet, what am I going to do?"

There was an eerie silence, and then Hermione came into his view, kneeling down beside him. She put her hand on his shoulder; the anger had all but evaporated from her eyes. "Fight past it, just like you've always done."

Going to class after that seemed more surreal than anything he could have imagined. Bill was in such a rage in Defense Against the Dark Arts that Harry almost snapped out of his daze to notice the professor's angry banging.

Harry had trained himself long ago to learn to deal with the ever incessant whispers that followed him; that was part of being famous at Hogwarts. But now, people were whispering and pointing about things that had nothing to do with his fame, they were talking about him, his real life. A part of Harry that he never wanted people to know.

No day at Hogwarts had ever gone by in such a fog.

When heading to dinner, he seriously considered skipping it and going back to the common room, but that was the coward's way out and he didn't need any more evidence of his cowardice. It ended up he had no choice in the matter.

"Potter," Professor McGonagall called to him just before he entered the hall. Harry stopped and walked over to her; she was distinctly avoiding his eyes. "Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office."

Harry sighed resignedly and prepared himself for what he knew was to come. It wasn't long before he stood facing his headmaster. The wizened man sat in his desk looking frailer than Harry had ever seen him. His eyes were scanning something on his desk.

Dumbledore looked up. "Is this true, Harry?" The man did not indicate to what he was referring and Harry needed no explanation.

He sparred the man no clemency. "Yes."

A gust of wind seemed to seep out of the fragile man and he did the most human thing Harry had ever seen him do: bury his head in his hands. Dumbledore's voice was but a whisper, "My boy, why did you not come to me with this?"

"Because it wouldn't have made any difference," Harry whispered. "I still needed her blood protection, I just had to live with the repercussions."

"Do you really have such little faith in me, Harry?"

He didn't answer.

Dumbledore looked up at him, his blue eyes dulled. "Very well, but despite your lack of trust in me, you will not be left alone with them again. I will take the necessary measures to insure they don't become a problem." The man snorted. "Or, more of a problem."

Saturday found Harry knocking on the door of Bill's office, ready to attend what he hoped would be his last Occlumency lesson before starting on Legilimecy. His usual Sunday session had been moved to Saturday due to the Quidditch match against Slytherin, which was to be held tomorrow.

Bill opened the door and seemed in no mood to talk; this was fine with Harry as he was already drained of any patience to be around people. Even without classes it was horrific having to deal with the Hogwarts students, especially on such little sleep.

Bill spared him no parting words before raising his wand to strike. Harry caught unprepared, had little time to form his shield. The oldest Weasley always at least gave him time to prepare, but he was relentless.

Harry felt it in his brain as Bill probed his mind more furiously than ever before. Harry could tell he was searching, looking for something. He found it.

The memories began to flood Harry with such a remarkable intensity he had to force himself to remember he was safe as Hogwarts.

Images rushed him, Images of Vernon…

Vernon was pulling him out of a dark, dank cupboard under the stairs. He was just a boy, maybe four at the most. It was his birthday but his uncle didn't seem to realize that, for what kind of uncle would be throwing a child into a coffee table on his nephew's birthday? …

Harry had just stepped into the house, he was sure he smelled something awful and his hands were dirty with oil and grease. After hours of scrubbing he hadn't managed to get the oil off the front drive. He went in the kitchen to tell his aunt what he did but the moment she saw his filthy self in her immaculate kitchen she shooed him outside, berating him until she saw the driveway.

"VERNON!" She screamed. Harry's face had throbbed for days after…

It was the summer after second year and Vernon was screaming at him. "HOW DARE YOU GIVE THIS NUMBER OUT TO PEOPLE…TO PEOPLE LIKE YOU!" His uncle's angry words preceded one of his worst beatings of his life…

Harry was beginning to gain control as Bill's defenses weakened at the images he was seeing. Harry pushed hard and threw Bill out of him mind with such a force he flew backward into his desk.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Harry screamed. Bill was leaning on his desk, panting heavily, too ashamed to look Harry in the eye.

"I'm sorry," the man panted.

"I never thought you would be a bastard about this. Don't you think I get enough of people bothering me at school? If you want to know, get up what Gryffindor courage you have and ask."

Bill had returned to his normal breathing rate. "Would you have answered?"

"No! But it's my business, isn't that my right?"

"I'm sorry," Bill whispered.

"I'm not so sure you are." And with that he left the room, leaving Bill Weasley to sink to the floor in shame.

Harry was circling high above the pitch and the rest of the stadium, looping and swooping to his heart's content. This was what he needed, to be up here and be free, no other worries surrounding him.

He listened with only half an ear as Malfoy continued making snide remarks from his place in the sky several meters below him. Being in the air was allowing Harry to keep his cool and form a shield against Malfoy's continuous quotes from "the article".

"No wonder you never seemed to flinch in this face of pain Potter!" Malfoy called, "You were too used to it."

"Yes Malfoy," Harry called back idly, "but I'm surprised you haven't built up the same immunity . Living with your father and Voldermort can't be much better." That effectively shut the ferret up.

Just in time too, as he'd spotted the snitch, some twenty meters dead ahead. The catch would have been flawless if it weren't for the fact that Goyle had swung a bludger at him just after his hand had clasped around the winged ball. He heard the sound of his wrist snapping, but the tiny ball was still fluttering in his hand.

Landing on the ground with a cheer, Harry headed to the hospital wing hurt but happy; he had no doubt they'd take the cup again this year. Harry marched up the hill with Ron laughing jovially when Professor McGonnagal stood in their path; she looked pale and slightly ill.

Harry felt his stomach drop. "What's the matter Professor?"

"It's Remus. He's been kidnapped."

Okay there it is, it's extra long for you enjoyment, I just hope you're satisfied. I actually combined two chapter into one just for you. Secondly, I have to thank my beta FormelyKnownAsErin, I truly could not have gotten through this without her, you help me more than you know. I got quite a few negative comments about the last chapter and quite a few good ones and I was rather distraught about the whole thing, but then I received some encouraging words from a person on my yahoo group and I'm going to repeat them for you:

Hi there. I have not read your story. That said, here's what I would say to anyone and everyone that has been put into your most unfortunate situation...You should write to please YOU! Don't worry about these fickle people out there across the USA or Britain, or anywhere else. You are the writer. You decide how the story will be. It's all about your ideas and thoughts. It takes a lot of talent to write a story, and even greater courage to post it where the public can read it and possibly have a chance to say they like or they don't. Try not to let it bring you down. If they don't like what you wrote, they can go write their own story. That's how I see it.

And that is now how I see it as well. I want to thank you Nita you really helped me out on this!

Sophiablonde: hey girl I really miss you! You need me back to give you all you HP info, your reviews always make me laugh.

Emmamme: my deepest thanks

Takethistoyourgrave: really appreciate you reading my fic. How did you find it?

Jenn the Freak: I think your review helped me above all others, it was really what kept me going. I'm thrilled that you enjoyed it and always love reading your reviews.

Bujiana: thanks for adding the "in a good way"

Shade-of-lily: sorry for the wait

Dweem-angel: thanks that's exactly what I was hoping to do

Cynthia1850: thanks much, what exactly will Harry come around to do?

Supernove1860: thanks very much enjoying reading you fic

Meg: I'm really glad you like this. I think it's very important that Harry remain in character and genuine.

Melindaleo: Well, I'm sorry you didn't like the twist, but as I said earlier, it's my story and it's gonna stay that way. I actually think Mark would understand Harry was number one. As Mark did not know Sirius all that well or all that long, it's just common sense. I am aware that Sirius went to Privet Drive to see Harry-- that would also be a reason Mark would understand Harry had first priority in Sirius's mind, but Sirius in my story also went there to see his wife and stepson one last time.

Sucidal Bunnies: yes I agree, I don't like Snape/ Harry bonding either

Gogglehead Lover: that's what I was intending

Duestchwolfsorceress: thanks so much! Sorry bout sara! You'll just have to wait and see

Mumblus: Happy to mention you! I didn't even figure out the names of Harry/Snape/Mark relation well done!

ChucklesDHobbit: missing school! You're crazy

Dauhfander: I'm sorry you don't like this new turn in the story, but as I said before it's my

story and if you don't want to read it anymore I your decision if I don't necessarily

support it.