Good morning/afternoon/night to all, here you have it third chapter of Back and forth! Oh so very exiting!HUGE WARNING!There is a huge warning for my story going out for this chapter for two things. First is ABUSE. It's not much and after this there won't be anymore. I in no way condole Abuse or violence of any type. Next is SWEARING. There will be a bit more than normal in this chapter than necessary but I feel as if helps emphasise the angst.

To save any confusion that I'm sure might happen a bit, everything that happens in Hogwarts will be explained in further chapter, that includes what happens with Voldemort. On a seperate note any words in the story that are in ITALICS! is writing, that mean things like letters, notes etc.

Two years later

Tears sprung to Harry's eyes as his head collided with the hallway wall, blackness and stars swam around his vision. He tried to pick himself up only have his injured ankle collapse out from under him. Harry stumbled to the ground, as the voice continued to shout at him.

"Did I give you permission to sit down, you ungrateful little freak!" The morbidly obese man who was Harry's uncle shouted at him, as a swift kick was delivered to his ribs. Harry knew better by not to answer these questions, any form of answer would result in another kick to the ribs or something worse. Curling into a ball to protect his ribs from further blows, Harry tried to forget the pain. This had been happening for the past 2 years, ever since he was shipped off to live with the Dursleys.

His life had gone rapidly downhill, all the days seemed to blur together into one long horrible nightmare. The Dursleys has sold most of his possessions that he had bought with him from America and had replaced them with his overweight cousins hand-me-downs, Harry didn't own anything anymore.

His life had become nothing but loneliness, neglect and abuse.

Anything that went wrong in the house was Harry's fault, from Dudley having a bad grade at school to his uncle Vernon's new car running low on fuel. And each time he was punished. Sometime no food for days, other times getting locked in the cupboard under the stairs that was his bedroom but most the times like right now he would get the stuffing beat out of him. It hadn't taken Harry long to figure out why things worked this way at the Dursleys, it was because everything was Harry's fault. His parents were killed because of him, they hated him when they died. The Dursleys didn't get a choice in looking after him, they didn't have enough money to take on another child and they liked to remind him of that almost every day.

Harry was bought out of his thoughts by the searing pain of his hair almost being pulled out as his uncle picked him up by his hair to his eye level.

"I told you good for nothing freak, that you weren't to the cupboard until ALL your chores where finished!" His uncle roared into his face spittle flying everywhere. Truth be told Harry had finished all the chores given to him today, as always Dudley had probably just made a mess somewhere to get harry in trouble again. He did it every time Harry finished his chores without mucking up. He bit down on his lip refusing to say anything, Harry hadn't spoken a single word since he had gotten on the plane to England.

He could hear his uncle continue to shout at him and tried desperately to zone out the voice, only to be thrown into the wall head first. Harry let his subconscious take him away from the pain as the blackness took over his vision, he let his thoughts drift off again.

His mind went straight to thoughts about his best friends, mainly Chris Halliwell. They used to do everything together, they were in all the same classes as school, had all the same interests. At one point in his life they were completely inseparable, to the point where Piper and his mother had to organize sleepover almost every night. His thoughts continued reminiscing of better times until the darkness took over and he passed out.

6 months later

It wasn't until two weeks before Harry's 11th birthday that things started to change, and all because of a letter. Not just any letter, it was his Hogwarts acceptance letter his parents had always talked about getting. Harry couldn't figure out if the Dursleys were ecstatic about getting rid of the 'freak' or furious that they were losing their slave and punching bag.

Either way Harry was thrilled to get away from them, even if it was only for 9 months of the years. Anything had to be better than here right?

Harry POV

So little orphan Harry gets taken away from his horrid Aunt and Uncles house and lives happily ever after, never to return to the muggles again, Right? Nope, honestly the wizarding was just as bad as the Dursleys. Sure I was never beaten to a blood pulp every night and treated like a slave, I swapped that for something even better. Manipulative old men, psychopathic dark lords, two faced friends and death lots and lots of death.

Just what every eleven year old wants when they start a new school. Every year I went back to Hogwarts to got more horrific than the last. Until I was eighteen.

That was when I made my stand, quite literally. I wanted out, away from Hogwarts away from the media, politics, the death and destruction.

Away from the wizarding world.

Which brings me to now, one year later standing in a Starbucks in San Francisco making coffees at 9pm for strangers on my birthday. Yep that was how I was planning to spend my birthday, then after work back to god horrible apartment which I was currently calling home. But that wouldn't be for another 7 hours, yep I was working in one of the only 24/7 Starbucks in existence lucky me.

I gave the brunette a smile and a quick wave as I passed her the coffee she ordered, she just smiled politely not bothering with conversation it wasn't like I would talk back. True to myself I still haven't spoken a word in eleven years. It made it hard at school making friends and using spells. I had to spend hours extra practising silent spell casting, it was even harder trying to communicate with customers at work without seeming rude. Really I just couldn't bring myself to speak after so long, I wasn't even sure my voice would work after so long.

I was bought out of my musing by the bell above the door chiming, browsing the menu boards was a very attracting blond man. He was far taller than my 5 ft 3 by at least a head and a bit, his wide blue eyes sparkled as he read the over head signs. Strange thing was he seemed familiar, which was pretty much impossible considering I had been living back in San Francisco for a grand total of two weeks.

Walking back over to the register, I gave him a smile while I waited for him to make up his mind.

"Hey can I have a large Latte with a double shot, thanks." He asked biting his lip. I silently laughed and nodded, anyone in a coffee at 9 at night had obviously having a very long day or was planning an all nighter. I quickly made the coffee while the blond lounged in one of the waiting chairs bag at his feet, book in his hands.

Bringing the coffee over to the counter, I rang the little bell that Jordan my boss was kind enough to supply me so I could get customers attention. Blondie looked up from is book with a grin, standing up he was about to take a step when his foot got caught in the strap of his bag. Everything seemed to move in slow motion after that. Blondie slowly falling to the ground, his book flying out his hands, the book hitting the piping hot coffee cup and the scalding coffee flying into me.

After that that everything sped up again, bit down on my tongue as the coffee burn into the skin on my neck and chest. I have had much worse than that happen to me before but I still hurt like a bitch.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" Blondie babbled on the other side of the counter, I bit back a wince and gave his a smile instead. I grabbed a rag and started to clean the coffee than was already starting to cool down off me. Looking over to Blondie, he had a worried expression on his face still.

"Hey I'm so sorry about that, I really got to start looking where I'm going. God you could have been really hurt, you're not hurt are you?" I cut him off, rising my hands trying to calm him down. Grabbing a pad of paper, I scribbled down a note for him.

"I'm fine, you can stop worrying. No harm done." He gave me a look like he was making sure I wasn't lying. Before he deemed me healthy.

"I'm so sorry for that, I feel so bad right now. Wow I can't believe I just did that, I feel like such an idiot." He chuckled nervously. I grinned,

"I'm fine, seriously, just let me grab you another coffee." I passed the paper back over to him, then went to make another coffee. When I returned he was grinning, giving me a once over again make for sure that I wasn't hurt in anyway.

"Sorry about that again. If it makes you feel any better you can throw that coffee at me, then we can be even." He laughed. I paused, pretending to be thinking about it before silently laughing, my shoulders shaking.

"My names Wyatt by the way, I guess I'll be seeing you around." He waved and walked out the shop leaving a ten dollar note on the counter as a tip.

I couldn't get my body to move for a few minutes, there was no way that Blondie was Wyatt Halliwell. That was the chances of that happening, I mean it's a big city right? But the signs were there blond hair, blue eyes, they way he bit his lip when he was thinking.

Shit maybe it was Wyatt Halliwell. My heart felt like it skipped a beat, did he recognise me? Did I want him to recognise me? No I don't think I did, not right now.

I mean how do you tell someone that your their childhood friend, their brothers ex-best friend. That you practically skipped the country while they were away on holidays. No letters, no calls, just vanishing into thin air. They must hate me.

Sighing I looked up at the clock, 9.45pm. I guess it was going to be a long quiet night, who needed a 24 hour Starbucks anyway.

Three weeks it had taken me to decided whether or not go visit the Halliwells, and let me tell you it was a very long three weeks. What if they didn't want to see me, what if they hated me for getting my parents killed. Not that it would be any shock for me if they did, I mean 95% of the people in the wizarding world hated me. The people I knew over in England only stuck around for fame and glory, only once the war was over they flat out told me they never wanted to talk to me ever again. My next reason for leaving the Wizarding world, everyone thinks I'm going to become the next dark lord or something. Some friends they were.

Yep I had made my decision, I was going to visit them, hatred be damned. Walking out of my apartment, I discreetly side stepped into a nearby ally. Casting a weak disillusion charm on myself, I turned on my heel focusing on my destination, a side street not too far from the Halliwell manor and with a crack I was gone.

The feeling of being pulled through a straw is an unpleasant one, you never really get used to it no matter how maybe times you apparate.

When I landed again I was gasping for breath, on my knees( I never did get the landing right). Brushing myself off and looking around making extra sure that nobody saw me, I quickly cancelled the disillusion charm and made my way onto the main street.

As I walked down the street towards my old house and the Halliwells, I noticed that nothing had changed. It was still a semi-quiet street with old houses painted odd colours, well odd to me considering all the houses on Privet Drive where identical. The only way you could tell which house was which was to look at the number on the letter box.

As I finally reached my old house, I had to stop and stare at it memories threatened to assault my mind but I pushed them back. From where I stood on the opposite side of the road the house look the same yet completely different. The garden for instance was perfectly kept not a flower out of place, where as my mother would always let it grow wild until she had no choice but cut it all back. The house was no longer painted cream white the new owner must have painted it a sunny yellow colour, that I took an instant disliking to it. Not that I had a choice or say in what happened to the house, seeing as I hadn't lived there in years.

Looking over to the side I spied the Halliwell manor, crossing the road I reach the front of the yard. Pausing I hesitated, maybe I shouldn't be doing this. I mean I was eight who really remembers or cares about old childhood friends, well apart from me.

I was about to move forward to the house when I saw how many cars where in the driveway, it looked like they were having a get together or something similar. No way in hell was I going to intrude on that, I decided that it was time for me to leave.

A voice inside my head that sounded oddly like Malfoy shouted at me for running away, telling me I was chickening out. Maybe I was, I honestly thought of it more like a tactical retreat. Either way I was out of there, taking a couple of steps backwards off the curb I turned around to see a car coming towards me quite fast. I tried to move out the way but I still got hit with the side of the car as it tried to slow down. The impact sent me flying backwards onto the ground, my head making contact with the ground with a thud before stars started to fill my vision. As the darkness decided to take over for the stars, I heard a car door slam and a feminine voice using a fair share of curse words.