Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter.

Once again, my thanks to Kourtney Uza Yato for giving me not only permitted me to use the plotline of their story - in this case, the amazing Nicole Potter stories where femHarry has to deal with the emotional and occasional physical abuse before their mistakes blew up in their faces. Granted, this line of stories is completely different from what was written, but there will be similarities.

Please let me know what you think, and please enjoy.

The Book Thief.

The First Case.

As he sat in the library in a corner reading a book as far from the windows as he could get away with since he didn't want his moronic cousin and his neanderthal friends to see him because if they did then they would know where he hung around when he tried to get away from them, Harry Potter, aged seven years old, had come to the conclusion life was unfair and weird at the same time.

Worse of all, Harry hated the fact whenever he tried to remember his parents, he could remember only tidbits. He hated the fact he could remember some aspects of his past but because he'd been so young at that time much of it was a blur, but at the same time he hated the fact some of his memories were almost crystal clear.

He hated Little Whinging, hated how the Dursleys spread lies and innuendos about him, although truthfully he had noticed some of the neighbours were sceptical although he wasn't certain since the Dursleys didn't encourage him to go anywhere near the neighbours.

Personally Harry didn't want to be anywhere near the neighbours any more than he wanted to be close to the Dursleys since he had noticed more than a few of them in the road looking at him with disdain, but at the same time he had noticed their uncertainty which made him question just how seriously the Dursleys were taken no matter how respected they were in town.

At school only his desire to learn as much as he could, which had been helped because his cousin was so stupid he had passed over his own homework to Harry when he'd noticed that his cousin was much better than he was. Dudley was a year older than Harry was and yet his unwillingness to learn anything, and he had tried to steal Harry's work a few times, completely missing the fact Harry's work was of a higher quality and his handwriting was neater than the mess Dudley called handwriting.

The teachers might have been told by the Dursleys he was a delinquent, but it was hard for them to prove that when he had no intention of singing to their tune. In any case, Dudley was the delinquent and he was incredibly stupid. The teachers hadn't needed long to realise that Harry wasn't the problem, for which he was grateful.

Dudley had forced his parents to adopting a new tactic which was just as short-lived. They had made him do Dudley's homework for him, and it had the unexpected result of exposing Harry to a higher level of learning; maths, literacy, geography, science.

Granted, it had only been tidbits but it had been enough to improve his knowledge. Harry remembered only too well how the plan had backfired. The Dursleys hadn't taken into account Harry would get smarter but Dudley remained at the same level as always, and he didn't improve in any of the subjects.

Harry lifted his head for a moment, wincing from the ache in his neck. He had been sitting in his spot reading this book for some time - he had no idea how long since he didn't have a watch - but he was wondering if Dudley was still looking around for him or if he had given up by now.

One of the benefits of having access to a local library was he had access to books on the local history and geography of the town, which allowed him to find hiding places he could take advantage of.

More than once, Harry had dug down into his memory to find the best hiding place while Dudley and his gang tried to find him and to beat him up. Harry had quickly learnt the value of hiding spots since he knew the Dursleys would never look out for him.

He hated the fact he would have to leave the library. It was a sanctuary, had been ever since the day he'd worked out Dudley didn't like reading.

Well, sad for him Harry loved to read. But he knew if he didn't return to Number 4 in time, he would be locked out. Alone. It had crossed Harry's mind more than once to simply get locked out and then make his own way out into the world, without the Dursleys in his life.

If wasn't as if they cared about him and his wellbeing, and he doubted very much they would try to look for him out of concern if he did run away.

Unfortunately he knew he wasn't ready for that. Harry had planned an escape from the Dursleys for a long time, but he had opted to wait until he was old enough to do so. At the same time, the Dursleys had made it easy for him. They encouraged him to stay out of their way, so he had plenty of time to himself without them knowing what he was doing.

They also didn't know the times he was put to work cleaning the house, Harry was taking money from different parts of the house. Dudley's bedroom was the best source; his cousin was a pig and his room looked like a sty. Dudley also didn't bother hiding his money, so it was pathetically simple to take a few notes. When Harry had begun stealing the money from the Dursleys since he was aware that if he was to escape, he would need money in order to survive, he had only taken a few notes at a time since Dudley would notice and his life would not be worth living.

A theft was nothing new to Harry. He had first stolen food from school when he had been starved when the Dursleys had tried to punish him for outdoing Dudley at school. Harry didn't feel any guilt since he had been starving and he needed food. In any case, while the teachers at school had quickly realised the Dursleys were having them on, Dudley had made it very clear anyone trying to befriend his freak of a cousin would be beaten up. As a result, Harry had no friends, and he had gotten used to that very fact.

Thinking about what he had just thought….Harry realised there was something else about his life which he considered bizarre. Those weird events which happened around him - that teacher's wig turning blue, finding himself on the rooftop of the school, among other things - and the Dursleys always punished him for.

He didn't know what those events were all about. If it had been small things, like how that television had blown up in Matilda then he would have said it was just a coincidence, but what could turn a teacher's hair blue? It made little sense.

What he did know was the Dursleys knew precisely what it was that was happening. That did make sense, otherwise why else would they act the way they did? They were very touchy about it, shouting and screaming at him not to be freakish, but he had no idea what was going on, so how could he stop? But the Dursleys didn't help matters by their beatings.

That was why he was planning on escaping the Dursleys at some point. With each beating, Harry wondered how long he would have left before he was beaten so badly that he would die. Thanks to the starvation he had endured frequently, Harry's body was frail and skinny. He knew it wouldn't take much for them to kill him.

Harry looked down and smiled at the words in the book. The written word was the one true sanctuary he had. By reading books, Harry had the chance to travel to cities in the real world. New York? No problem, find a book, a novel which was set in the Big Apple. On another planet? Find a science fiction novel with an adventure involving aliens. Adventure? Well, there were Horatio Hornblower stories or Sharpe by Bernard Cornwall. Harry had read dozens of books already, including Great Expectations, The Jungle Book, The Time Machine, Bleak House, Doctor Syn, Moby Dick, White Fang, and many others covering various topics. He wished he could take some books back with him to the Dursleys so he could read them in the cupboard to stop himself from growing bored. Unfortunately books were as welcome in the Dursley house as he was. The Dursleys didn't like reading which was a paradox since they read magazines, or in Dudley's case comics, but they didn't read books. Harry wondered if the Dursleys hated books because they knew he liked them, but that made little sense.

In the end, Harry had decided not to let it worry him, and he focused on the book.

He looked back at the clock again, and he saw the time. He winced, knowing he would need to leave now. Vernon didn't like his dinner late, and he knew only too well what would happen if he didn't get back to Number 4. He sighed and he put the books he'd been reading at the same time for the last few hours back on their shelves, trying to stretch the delay as long as he could get away with before Harry picked up his bag and left. He poked his head slowly out of the library, looking left and right for any sign of Dudley and his gang but he couldn't see any trace of them.

So far.

Harry sighed and he walked out of the library and he began to walk back to Privet Drive, opting for the slightly scenic route. He knew it was a long shot since there was a chance Dudley and his friends knew about his love of the library, and they'd stake it out, but he doubted they'd go that far; Dudley had a short attention span, and his friends were no better. They wouldn't hang around a library for hours and he knew it, they would leave sooner or later, but that didn't mean they couldn't occasionally come close and wait him out, although they'd be in for a long wait.

"Hey, Freak!" Harry sighed when he heard Dudley yell, and he turned around and found his fat cousin close by, and he looked around and cursed when he saw the rest of Dudley's gang. He knew this was not going to be good, and as they closed in on him, jeering, Harry wished there was a way he could fight back….