Starts out a little cliche, but gets better I promise! I'd like to think I have some fresh ideas prepared for you guys in later chapters.

Parings: Hp/Lv, as well as *spoilers*

Warnings: mentions of abuse, language, slash

Disclaimer: Do I own Harry Potter? If only readers... if only...

"talking"

'thoughts'

"spells"

:Parseltongue:

Sweet protector

Chapter One: The day he ran away

Fifteen year old Harry Potter stared longingly past the bars on his window. He so desperately desired to escape the hatred of his relatives. He'd often wished that Dumbledore would stop sending him back to this hellhole, but Harry couldn't bring himself to tell the old twinkling-eyed wizard exactly what was done to him over the summers and the years before his school life in the wizarding world began. Dumbledore was so sure Harry was safe from all threats by remaining in the Dursley household on Privet Drive. Harry didn't want to burden him with the fact that he was so very wrong. He was safe from Voldemort, yes, but not from his Aunt's insults, his cousin's bullying, and definitely not his Uncle's wrath. The man enjoyed hurting the teen and he didn't hide it. The beatings were turning into more than something Harry could handle. The raven-haired boy was beginning to fear for his life.

Harry's large (much too large for his small frame) maroon-plaid, button-up shirt; gray undershirt; and worn, blue, baggy jeans, held up with a frayed rope, hid the result of his most recent session with Uncle Vernon. He was bruised and bleeding with a frightening amount of fractured and broken bones. A weaker person would've be rendered unable to move, let alone complete Harry's often lengthy list of chores; but today those chores wouldn't be completed even if the young man was entirely healthy. He had made his decision: he'd rather take his chances with Voldemort than be killed by his own "flesh and blood" relatives through violent beatings and starvation. It was time for the teen to take matters into his own hands if he wanted to live. The Dursleys will be leaving on an outing for the rest of the day. As to where they were going, Harry didn't care; all he knew was that he wouldn't be here when they came back. Not only that, but the Order member on watch duty today will be Tonks and she had a tendency to sleep on the job no matter the time of day (he assumed things at headquarters were quite hectic if she kept falling asleep so much).

Harry had sent Hedwig off to the Weasley Twins' shop for the duration of the summer with a note that simply stated it was not safe for her to be with him. He gathered up his most important things from under the loose floorboards in his room: his wand and cloak. He had left his photo album, and the marauders' map in the care of Fred and George Weasley. They were the only ones who knew what really went down at the Dursleys'. Normally, he would've asked Ronald Weasley to watch over something of his, but after the incident last year in the Department of Mysteries, Ron had completely turned on him. He made sure to remind him everyday for the rest of fifth year that what happened to Sirius Black was all Harry's fault, and that he almost got most of his friends killed. The hostility instantly doubled when the redhead learned that Harry Potter was gay.

Harry couldn't have left anything with Hermione either; she didn't turn on him like Ron did, but she was a lot smarter and would realize he was up to something. He didn't want to risk anyone informing Dumbledore that Harry was going to run away or he would be dragged back and asked questions that he wanted to avoid. He trusted the twins to keep his secret. If they figured out what Harry was going to do they'd keep it to themselves, he was sure of it.

"BOY, Get down here!"

"Coming Uncle Vernon!"

HPLV

"I want this place completely spotless by the time we get back, do you hear me boy! Spotless! If not there will be dire consequences, do you understand me?!" Vernon Dursley barked.

"Yes sir."

Mr. Dursley huffed and hobbled out the door struggling slightly due to his wale-like build. Harry could barely keep a large grin from appearing on his bruised faced. 'It's almost time!' he thought gleefully. All three Dursleys were soon in the car and backing out of the driveway. As soon as the sound of the car engine was out of Harry's hearing range, he leaped in the air as high as he could thrusting his small fist in the air, shouting, "Yes! Yes!Y-OW!" As soon as Harry landed he violently flinched, bit his lip with a hiss, and almost fell to the ground. He had forgotten that he was injured, 'Well that was just stupid! '

After internally scolding himself, he hurried back upstairs, grabbed his wand, and threw on his cloak. The teen headed to the back door in the kitchen. On his way down he glanced at the small cupboard that he once lived in. The cupboard his trunk used to be locked in after every school year. He had thought of unlocking it to bring said trunk with him, then he remembered that about a week and a half ago his cousin Dudley had beaten him to it. Apparently, it was really entertaining for his cousin to destroy anything of Harry's that was left unguarded. How the stupid oaf managed to unlock the door was beyond him. Then again, he wouldn't have put it past his uncle to have simply given Dudley the key. It didn't matter to the man if Harry had everything he needed for school. After that Harry had calmed by telling himself he had everything actually important to him in a safe place. His map, owl, and album at Fred and George's shop; his wand and cloak in his room, now on his person; and his Firebolt hidden in Hogwarts...

Harry suddenly smacked his hand against his forehead, 'I probably should have kept that with me.' It would have made traveling a whole lot easier, if he stayed out of muggle sight of course.

Shaking his head, Harry continued on his way to the backdoor. When he opened the door he quietly closed it behind him and quickly scanned the area for Tonks. Sure enough, there she was hiding in one of the bushes, asleep. 'This is why your one of my favorite Order members Tonks, always being helpful with out even trying. ' Harry quietly chuckled and left the yard.

HPLV

Altair Shackleford was a tall, slightly lanky man, possibly in his late twenties, who was currently trudging his way up the sidewalk of Privet Drive, festering in the surly aura that surrounded him. He scratched at the dark stubble on his chin lost in bitter thought, 'Why the hell did Zerin have to set the damn portkey so god damn far away from the location of the actual fucking British Ministry of Magic?! And why do I have to be the one sent on this tedious mission anyway? ' Altair began grumbling lowly to himself, his voice taking a mocking tone as mimicked what his leader had told him when he had earlier voiced that previous question aloud, "Oh, because you are my best man, my finest assassin, my most manipulative minion, and my sliest friend, dear Alty! This mission must be completed with care and I know you will get the job done properly!" Merlin, how close he was to bitch slapping the ridiculous grin off of his longtime friend and master! He sighed, "Too late now isn't it? I'm here in Europe now, so I might as well get this job done."

The man was pulled from his thoughts when his shoulder bumped into something. He jerked his head around; black eyes searching for the offender, seeing nothing but empty sidewalk. 'What the hell? ' Altair Shackleford stood there for a moment, still searching, but then shrugged and continued on his irritated way. Not realizing he had dropped something very important.

HPLV

Harry watched as the man began walking away. Normally, he would've apologized, but that would've ruined the whole idea of being invisible. That, and he was too preoccupied with trying not to yelp after being hit in a particularly tender spot. Just as the teen was ready to continue on his own way, he noticed something dark and rectangular on the ground. Upon closer inspection Harry realized it was a dark brown muggle wallet. 'Oh bloody hell! I have to return that!'

He bent down to pick up the man's wallet. However, in the moment his fingers touched the leather covering he felt an all too familiar tug behind his naval. The portkey-wallet was returning home with the wrong passenger.

Well it looks like Harry's off on his next adventure. I'm telling you now though, you'll never guess where I sent him! If you do... I'll eat my keyboard!