Description: Post OOP, AU. Greatly injured, Harry runs away from the Dursleys. Free from his father, Draco has decided that he's not dark or light, but a nice gray. What happens when Draco and Harry reach an understanding? How will Ron and Hermione, now dating, take it? Not Slash.


Disclaimer: Everything that appears in one of JK Rowling's books is copyright her. Everything that appears in any of the movies is copyright Warner Bros. Anything that isn't in them is mine. If someone wants to use something in their fan fic, it's fine by me, just give a little credit in the disclaimer, eh?

Chapter One: Fight and Flight

It was a quiet night on Privet Drive. Unfortunately, that wasn't because everything was peaceful for everyone who lived there. No, it was because Harry Potter's uncle, one Vernon Dursley, decided over winter break that a sound proofed basement would be a new necessary commodity in the house. It allowed Dudley to play his music without the rest of the house hearing. But a room off to the side…it had other uses as well. Such as doing Harry a 'favor' and making him a normal part of the family.

Harry should've known that something was wrong as soon as they got back and Uncle Vernon told him that he had a new bedroom. Once Harry was down there, and saw that the room consisted of his bed and no windows, he protested, saying that the other room was fine, and citing Hedwig as a concern.

"Boy, you'll be greatful! And now, for our other present to you - we've decided that it was high time you were a functioning member of this family! But you can't be a functioning member of this family with that freakish-ness of yours. We hoped you'd grow out of it, but it seems like it needs extra help to get out," Vernon said, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"My friends'll show up and make you sorry," Harry warned.

"They won't if they can't hear you scream," Vernon sneered. He raised a meaty fist and buried it into Harry's chest.

And so the beatings began. Vernon left his face, arms, and legs alone, as he didn't want the neighbors seeing anything that they shouldn't have. But his chest and back? They were always covered up by the overly large clothing that Dudley discarded to him. So they were fair game. Two days in, Harry started having trouble breathing. But he kept himself sane – Dumbledore promised that the Order would be keeping an eye on him, and if he didn't send them a message for three days they would investigate.

Day three went by. Then another three went by. By the end of the first week, with no word from the order, Harry became desperate. On day eight, Vernon was emboldened with the lack of word from Harry's wizarding friends and almost beat him to death. He might have killed him, except Harry's magic kicked in and burnt his hands. For four days Vernon stayed away from Harry, tending to his burns and Harry was allowed to heal.

Meanwhile, for nourishment, there was another cat flap put in the door. Harry had two bowls, one to…well, relieve himself in, and another for water. He got a specific store of food per day, usually whatever was left over from dinner and breakfast the day before (which, judging from how much Vernon and Dudley ate, was never much). Once per day his water bowl and his food plate were taken away, and replaced. Harry always saved the meat for Hedwig, who wasn't happy being cooped up in her cage. But just when things were getting better, Vernon apparently got another idea. Now instead of being pummeled, he was beaten with a belt. Harry tried to fight back, but Vernon was more than three times his size.

"You'll show up, eh?" Harry muttered. He was beaten and bruised, and was having problems breathing. Above all, he felt betrayed. WHY hadn't the Order shown up to protect him?

After two weeks of this new round of beatings, Harry had lost hope. The only comfort he had was that if he was going to die, hopefully his magic would act out again and stop his uncle from making one blow too many. The other comfort he had was that despite the beatings, he always fought to the very last breath. Vernon had taken to tying him down for a while, but now didn't bother. After the lack of food and the beatings were taking hold of his body, Harry was having issues fighting him off successfully. Even his magic was feeling tired. He knew that Vernon had gone out tonight, from an overheard conversation of Dudley's (through the cat flap of course) and just hoped that his uncle would be too drunk tonight to go down to Harry's…erm…room.

About thirty seconds after that thought went through his head, his door opened.

Goddamn it.

Harry's thought was punctuated with a weary sigh as he gathered all his remaining strength to fight his uncle. Even if he got beaten, he swore to himself he would never stop fighting.

"Harry…what a bad nephew you've been. Taking up space and food like you have," his uncle said with a slurred voice.

He was clearly piss drunk. Harry wasn't sure if this was good or bad; maybe it would be easier to get away from him this time? Regardless, Harry decided to remain silent for the moment and see what was happening while his mind whirled trying to find a way to use this to his advantage.

"Boy!" His uncle slurred, focusing watery eyes on him. "I've put lots of my time aside to do my best to stamp that…that abnormality out of your system. It takes a lot of time and effort for me, so it's about time you started repaying me."

Harry blinked at him again, eyes darting to either side of the man to see if he could escape around him.

"So be a good boy now, and drop your pants."

Harry stopped looking around and looked up at his uncle, stunned.

"Excuse me?" he demanded hotly.

"Don't take that tone with me boy. DROP YOUR PANTS!" his uncle roared.

"No! That…that's…just NO!" Harry roared back.

"THEN I'LL TAKE THEM OFF!"

Harry's uncle launched himself at the beaten boy, hitting him and attempting to pull his pants down. Harry was screaming, and wishing for his wand. Harry's uncle ripped his pants down, and stood up, undoing his own belt.

"Vernon! Stop!" Harry cried, tears of fear rolling down his face.

"Oh, I'll stop. After I get exactly what I want boy," Vernon sneered. He managed to get his belt off, and was starting on his pants when panic overtook Harry.

Ohnoohnoohno. Ohmygodno. He's going to rape me! NONONONO the uncontrolled thoughts raced through Harry's head as he fought with every bit of strength he had.

"GET ON YOUR BACK BOY!" Vernon yelled. He reached for Harry, and behind the panic, one tiny voice in Harry's head told him that the second he was on his back, it would be over. He would have lost, and Vernon would have him.

FIGHT that voice yelled. ARE YOU A WIZARD OR NOT?

I don't have my wand Harry's thoughts continued to panic as Vernon approached him. Harry's eyes flicked between his uncle's legs, and he saw just how much Vernon was enjoying himself.

TRY

He knew it wouldn't work, he did. But maybe, just maybe…

"STUPIFY!" Harry yelled, burying a fist in his uncle's gut. Much to his surprise, there was a flash of red light, and his uncle fell backwards, propelled by the punch, completely stunned.

For a minute or two, Harry couldn't move. That was when a few realizations hit him. Uncle Vernon was knocked out. The door was open. It seemed to be late at night. The Ministry would probably pick up on him doing that wandless magic. Wait. He just did wandless magic!

Harry looked at his uncle again before grabbing a new pair of pants and throwing them on. Without another look back, Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage and was out the door. He stopped in his uncle's workroom to grab two pins, and ran as fast as his beaten body would let him upstairs to the cupboard he used to sleep in. Keeping an eye on the stairs into the basement in case the spell wore off too soon, Harry expertly picked the lock on the door, mentally thanking Fred and George Weasley for teaching him how to pick locks. The door swung open, and Harry pulled open his trunk, and grabbed his wand and his invisibility cloak. Harry dragged the trunk outside, and was about to shrink it when he paused. It would be better, he decided, to drag the trunk to Mrs. Figg's house, floo to Diagon Alley, and stay the night. With that decided, Harry put his cloak on and went to the old squib's house.

Once he got there, he picked her lock, and as quietly as he could, he crept into her house and snuck to her fireplace. A fire was lit, he knew, if only to keep the cats warm, and just in case a member of the Order came in the middle of the night. Just as he got there, one of her cats opened it's eyes and ran off.

"Crap!" Harry cursed in a whisper.

"Who's there?"

Harry grabbed an urn from on top of the fireplace, and saw the sparkling sand inside it. He grabbed a handful, threw it into the fire, and put it back just as he heard Mrs. Figg coming down the stairs.

"Diagon Alley," he whispered as he pulled his trunk and Hedwig's cage into the fire with him. He spun away.

As Arabella Figg came downstairs, she saw her door was open.

"I'll have to have a word with Dumbledore," she muttered. "If they need to guard the boy, fine, but they can at least shut the door!"

Harry spun around and around and around before finally falling out of a fireplace. He looked up, expecting to see Tom from The Leaky Cauldron staring at him, possibly offering him a room. Instead, he saw something different, albeit familiar.

Borgen and Burke's. I'm in Knockturn Alley. At least I'm close to where I should be…so long as I don't get attacked.

Harry crept outside, keeping an ear out for the owners of the shop. As he got out there, he paused, looking around, before starting to make his way towards Diagon Alley.

Or at least trying to. After he got out of the store, his adrenaline was wearing off. He was running…then walking…and two stores down from Borgen, he was panting, trying his best to drag his trunk along with him. Finally, he decided maybe he should sit for a minute. He let Hedwig out of her cage, and she hopped onto his arm, hooting as if with worry.

"Go get a good meal Hedwig. I know you'll be able to find me, no matter where I am."

She hooted again uncertainly before Harry raised his arm, and she flew off. Another few minutes later, Harry unsuccessfully tried to drag his stuff to Diagon Alley. He did succeed in dragging his stuff off the main road and into a deserted alley, but after that he didn't see or feel much at all.

This isn't the best place to sleep… was the last thought that ran through his head before his body collapsed from exhaustion.

Harry Potter, in Knockturn Alley

The woman levitated the boy with her wand, and moved his greasy hair to the side. She looked at him harder, as his shirt slid up a bit, and noticed the bruised body underneath.

"Well, this won't do, now will it?" she asked the air. "But this could be exactly what we've needed." One wave of her wand later, and the broom, trunk, and owl cage he had vanished, reappearing in a room miles upon miles away.

"And now you. You need to be healed up Harry Potter, I believe you and I have many things we can do for each other."

A smirk crawled up on the woman's face, as she apparated him back to her home, and told one of her house elves to get him cleaned up, while ordering another house elf to make the empty suite on the third floor ready for their guest, as she didn't see him leaving for some time now.

"With your help, we can rise above all the fools, Harry Potter. You and us both."