AN:/ I would just like to dedicate this particular story to Ben Breedlove. You've inspired me to go on, because you don't know how long we really have. I've been holding off on writing for almost a year now. I hope that you have found that unexplainable place, and found a presence as warm and welcoming as the first. I believe in Angels. I believe in god and I pray that when I die you'll be one of the first faces to greet me. Until then. Yours truly, Jailbird.

The stars wept fountains of freezing rain, drenching the very core of a solid figure shifting through the abandon streets of London. Fog touched the very tips of the boys figure enticing it with vibrant strobes of whispers and secrets. Here something was hinting at the magic and mystery hidden within a quite lantern hanging ominously without anything holding it in mid air. Eyes probed the peculiar scene before him, what he was seeing surly wasn't magic, and here in London. Such a cause would be considered illegal and would fall under imminent attention from the Ministry of Magic. The lantern swung with the breath of the bitter wind, shuttering the fragile body stoned in place.

Four houses stood in front of the boys eyes, calling him in past the woods from which he descended. The whole air and atmosphere was a hazy grey against the bright yellow candle-lit lantern, which is what originally called the boys attention out of the dense foliage. Emerald green eyes bit out past the drenched locks of satin hair and the cold goose bumped porcelain face, absent of all emotions.

The last thirty six hours had been harsh and brutal. Harry Potter stood on the silent streets finding himself at a loss of what was. He had been thrown out of his recent "home" after being practically mangled to death by his uncle. Harry had managed to make his way past the pain and actually fight back for the first time in his life. He had withdrawn his wand, and with that the story becomes a fallen tale. Vernon was practically dead when Harry left. He remembered the look on his Aunts and cousins face when as he edged past them wand still drawn, they were absolutely bloody frightened. A sick sinister smile eroded past the emotionless face, causing Harry to jolt back to reality. "I could have killed them."

A very simple statement, however extremely true by all means.

Harry, after being beaten at the hands of his uncle for the last time had snapped. He closed his eyes, breathing in the icy air that brushed against the bruises unleashed upon his frail skin. There was so much blood. Red, bright sticky blood that still stuck to the damp clothes Harry was in. His prickling fingers touched the blood left on his busted lip. Nothing a simple spell couldn't fix, Nothing time wouldn't mend. The rain seemed to take a moment to clear, opening waves of clarity to how cold it precisely was. Harry decided now was as good as any to find a place to stay and keep warm until the weather passed.

The first two houses on his left looked far too big and the closest one was possibly occupied. While although the outside wasn't perfect, and the grass grew much too high for his norm the place seemed to have a presence unknown to Harry. The windows upstairs were cracked and no lights seemed to glow from the rest of the remaining windows. The gate was locked, and all though he more than likely could have broken them with a spell, Harry made no intentions to spark interest of possible threats. Besides, the lantern still swung in the mists of the wind and dripping wet rain. This meant some sort of magic was being used, even if it was going missed by the muggles who lived in this subtle area, Harry doubted it, such an obvious idea was done by a wizard, a ballsy one at that.

The biting cold was eluding Harry's sense of rationality, and while although he hasn't been known for the best self preservation and lack of logical thought process he was certain that getting out of this weather was going to happen at any and all costs.

The second house standing next store was practically in shambles, while although monstrous in size, pieces of the house itself were missing. Upon further inspection, Harry found mice and oddly seemed colder than outside itself. Again not trying to attract any more attention to himself he moved to the next house deciding that this one wasn't worth the chance of getting caught. "What's the point in being a wizard if I can't even use them outside of Hogwarts." Harry muttered underneath his breath. Across the street he was left with his final options. Deciding that the still creepy lantern outside the third house had to belong to someone, Harry chose the fourth and final house.

Outside, the home was grey and murky. The lawn, like the rest was uncut and masses of weeds grew ubiquitously. The windows were dark and covered from the inside. No smoke flowed out of the chimney and when Harry went around to the back he found the door cracked open. He stood outside thinking about whether or not this was a good idea, the rain started again. Colder, this time. Knowing that he was already feeling sick and didn't want to make himself worse; tipped the door open his foot, wincing as the door creaked in response. A light fluttered on in the house next store and Harry felt his heart skip before he slid quickly inside the house and shutting the door behind him.

The room was silver, humid and ominous. A small amount of rain had leaked in when the door was left ajar, making Harry shoes squeak beneath his weight. Not taking a moment longer to waste. Harry popped off his shoes and socks, shrugged off his jacket before untangling his scarf. "If I wanted too, I could hang myself with this. Just by wearing it." The scarf squished to the ground making an unpleasant odor, quickly noted into Harry's mind. "Should probably wash it, soon."

Harry flung off his dampened shirt and unzipped his pants before tossing them aside as well. Standing in only his trousers and undershirt Harry found his wand which he slipped into the waistband of his trousers, just in case. Harry looked up to see where exactly he was. From the looks of it he was currently in some sort of kitchen, finding the pantry Harry indulged in bread and crackers.

Worried that someone might be inside the house he walked slowly and tried to move as little as possible. The next room he ventured into was a long room adjacent to the kitchen. There was a fireplace that Harry quickly started before settling in for the remainder of the night. The room was a peculiar color, perhaps forest green of an exceptionally indistinct blue. Harry wanted to stay under the radar, which is why he chose only light the fireplace; therefore he wasn't too sure of the colors around him. If he had been, he may have very well left, instantaneously perhaps.

The house was maybe a bit smaller than originally thought. There was only two other rooms down stairs, which consisted of a laundry room and the other a study. Harry had laid his clothes by the fire place to dry, when he thought he heard a soft squeal behind him. Wand drawn, Harry turned expecting to find someone there. However, the only thing he found was a clock and a broken armchair. He could feel his eyes darting around him, slightly frightened. He had broken the blood wards, Harry wasn't that stupid not to know that. The only one that could protect him was himself. He also knew that the Ministry would be after him in no time, as soon as he hexed his uncle they had to have been alerted.

Harry drew in a deep breath. Thank god that he sent Hedwig back to Hogwarts for the remainder of Winter Break. Dudley had threatened to kill her when she bit him late that afternoon. "Maybe, he should keep his obese fingers away from her." Harry muttered as he recalled Dudley poking and picking on his beautiful bird.

While the room had warmed up a little bit, Harry was still shaking in just an undershirt and his trousers. The room had proven to be less than adequate as far as warmth went. Looking desperately at his still slightly damp clothes Harry's attention grew to the stairs by the front door. He wondered if he should go look for clothing, then again what if someone was up there. Then what was he supposed to do? The clock on the wall struck the hour hand, and Harry noted that it was three in the morning. Further adventuring into the house would have to wait. As of now, there seemed to be no danger or issues. Staying in the room he was currently in was his best bet. Harry sighed and silently started putting on his own clothes and moving closer to the fire, Harry started to feel the effects of exhaustion.

Remembering the long distance he had traveled, Harry was a little stunned he had made it this far. First he had wondered far into the city when he thought he had seen police coming his way, quickly he had dodged them by falling back into a wooded area, before Harry knew it he was deep inside and couldn't find his way out. After scratching himself countless times from thorns and snapping twigs and branches, he had just about given up and was resting on a large boulder when he began to tend to his bruises that had grown from his uncles' belt and fists. Harry had almost given up completely and was on the verge of using even more magic when he had seen the light glowing through the trees.

That Lantern.

"What is this place?" Harry couldn't help but wonder. Sniffling, Harry's eyes lids grew weak against the battle of exhaustion and before long light and even breaths pushed out from his chest before falling almost completely silently before building again. The fire danced and wrapped it's warmth around Harry's unconscious body as two piercing eyes watched Harry from a corner of the room, hidden in the darkness of the still distant morning, waiting for his chance to finally come.