Disclaimer: This was given to me by Chauntahl, it is a joint story. So none of the plot, characters or world is mine. Plot is Chauntahl's; the rest is JK Rowling's.

Chapter One The Change

Harry Potter was concentrating on his homework. Unlike most seventeen year olds, he actually wanted to do his homework. And unlike other seventeen year olds, his homework was on the theory behind turning into an animal and how to brew a deadly potion using wolfsbane and belladonna. Harry Potter was a wizard, famous among his own, hated by his family.

Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley were his only remaining relatives left, after the dark wizard Lord Voldemort had murdered his parents. Petunia was his mother's sister. Despite this, and because of his 'freakishness', his magic, he was loathed and unwelcome on number 4 Privet Drive. His Uncle Vernon believed it could be beaten out of him. This summer, during the six weeks he was home from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Vernon had taken this to a whole new level… With one night left to go till he went to the Weasley's, to stay with his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, Harry was starting to fear for his life. Over the course of these holidays, Vernon Dursley had the aim of turning Harry into a muggle, using as much violence as he thought necessary. Because of this, Harry had been beaten, raped and emotionally abused.

Harry sat thinking about how he was going to hide his bruises, cuts and scrapes from his unofficial family, realising he wouldn't be able to wear anything short in front of them. Also, he had to work on not flinching every time someone so much as looked the wrong way at him, or they would be suspicious. As Harry sat thinking about his homework (Magical Majorities for his Charms class, Magical Beings for Defence Against the Dark Arts, summaries of the last years work for Herbology) someone came stomping up the stairs. Harry's heart sank as he realised who it was. His uncle.

"Boy, open this door this second," Vernon growled as Harry shoved his quill, parchment and textbooks underneath the loose floorboards. Anything magical hanging around would only make this session worse.

"Yes sir," Harry muttered as he opened the door. Vernon grinned at him and lifted the leather belt he had in his hand. Harry bowed his head in knowledge of what was about to happen, and distanced himself from the scene, letting a strange numbness sweep over him.

HPGWJPLESBRLRWHG

The next few days went along much the same lines as the rest of the holidays had gone, making Harry intensely glad that tomorrow he would be leaving. If he didn't, he truly feared he would not be able to leave. Alive, that is.

"Boy!" A roar came up the stairs and Harry hurried to obey, ignoring the pain shooting up his back. If he didn't, it would only get worse, he knew this from experience. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, Vernon was waiting with his trunk. Harry, of course (being extremely paranoid, a second year of Moody does that to a guy) had put away everything underneath the loose floorboards, and replaced them with fakes. And now, he was strangely glad. He thought he knew what was going to happen now.

"You called, sir?" Harry asked, keeping his head down and his voice soft. He did not want to make this any worse than it was going to be, even if his trunk was only filled with fakes. Vernon grinned savagely.

"I want you to take this out into the yard and burn it. And then I want you back in your room. If you thought you would be leaving here, you are mistaken, you little freak," Vernon hissed. Harry inwardly rejoiced at his practice as showing feelings he did not feel as he forced tears into his eyes and looked pleadingly at his uncle. He was glad now, definitely.

"Please, sir. I'll do anything, just please don't make me burn my things, please," Harry begged for good measure. He had judged his uncle well, the foul mans smile grew, and he gripped Harry behind the neck and forced him outside, Harry fighting to keep consciousness.

"Here boy," Vernon said, dropping the trunk on a patch of cleared ground. "Burn it, boy. And don't look at me like that, you disgusting murderer," Vernon handed him gasoline and a lighter, watching with an evil grin as Harry suppressed a sob, thanking every deity he knew for his paranoia. At least he wouldn't be missing anything. Vernon stood by, still grinning, watching to make sure that Harry didn't try to save anything, not letting Harry back inside until everything was reduced to a grey ash.

"Sir, could I please contact the Weasley's? If they let me visit, I will be out of your way for the rest of the holidays," Harry asked timidly, fearing another beating for even daring to ask.

"Fine, Boy, contact them. I don't want to see you back here for at least the school year, do you hear me?" Vernon spat, and Harry cringed, sprinting upstairs and writing to Ron.

Ron,

Could I please come over for the rest of the holidays? I can't stand being here any longer. If the answer is yes, please be here as soon as possible, preferably at night. If it is not, then please keep Hedwig with you. Don't, whatever you do, send a reply with an owl…It probably wouldn't make it out alive.

Harry.

Harry quickly read over his letter, then sent Hedwig away. Hedwig hooted and nipped affectionately at Harry's ear, swooping silently out of the window. Harry watched her go, praying desperately that the answer was yes. He could hear Vernon coming up the stairs, it had only been about half an hour, but Harry knew what was going to happen, and retreated to the back of his mind, staying barely conscious, not knowing what was happening around him, a blessing.

HPGWJPLESBRLRWHG

"Harry, psst, Harry, wake up," a voice hissed into Harry's ear. Harry sat up with a start, heart thudding painfully, looking around wildly – The voice hadn't sounded like Uncle Vernon…

"Ron, look. You've frightened him. You know that he startles easily, even if Voldemort is dead," Hermione whispered, looking curiously at Harry. Harry stood, moving stiffly and painfully, feeling the effects of earlier that night, even if he didn't remember any of it. His two best friends watched as Harry grabbed his (shrunken) trunk from under the loose floorboards.

"Thanks for coming, Ron. How did you get here so quickly?" Harry asked, still moving painfully slowly, limping slightly. When did that happen? Harry asked himself, actually feeling his bone move. It felt like it was on fire, and Harry couldn't suppress a hiss.

"Harry?" That wasn't Ron or Hermione… It sounded like Remus. A thought suddenly occurred to Harry.

"How did you get here so quickly? I didn't know Hedwig was that fast," Harry asked, watching as Remus picked up his trunk. Ron and Hermione looked guiltily at each other.

"Well, we were worried about your replies, and your last letter had blood on it, so Hedwig met us when we were only about half an hours drive a way from your house. Sirius is in the car," Ron said quickly, the last sentence the clearest. Harry frowned.

"I'm going to scream at you later, but now, I want to see Snuffles. Could you please take my trunk? I can barely stand right now," Harry noticed Remus scowl, and grabbed his arm to use it as a crutch, partly because he needed the support and partly to keep Remus from doing anything.

"Harry, will you tell me who did this to you?" Remus asked softly, but Harry just ignored the question, concentrating instead on moving down the stairs as quietly as he could.

"Harry, the cars just down the street, can we please move quickly? Hermione's leaving a note for the Dursley's," Ron said, watching Harry from across the trunk. Harry nodded, and followed Remus into the car, curling up and going to sleep.

A/N: Please review. Constructive criticism allowed if you say exactly what it is you want changed. Ideas and points of view welcome. Please feel free to tell me if any important facts birthdays, names, positions in the faculty, spelling etc are wrong. I will update as often as possible.

Lady Halaia