I own nothing except the idea for the story. Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowlings. I just like to play with the characters.

Chapter one

Harry Potter had begun to doubt many things, one was Albus Dumbledore and his belief that Harry was safe with his Aunt Petunia, his mother's sister. Harry did tell the headmaster that Voldemort was remade with his blood, so Harry didn't think the blood wards worked anymore. He didn't know anything about those types of wards, just what he had learned on wards like what was around Hogwarts. Muggle repelling charms, wards to stop apparition. He also heard about the fidelius charm, he knew there must be more, but those were the only ones he heard about.

Harry was quiet on the train ride away from Hogwarts, his friends understood, they sat opposite him and mainly talked in whispers between themselves, leaving Harry alone.

'Do you think Dumbledore can get Fudge to believe him?'

'No, he just doesn't want to deal with anything unpleasant, like when we told him about Sirius. The old minister locked up an innocent man without a trial yet it looks bad for Fudge if he investigates and it's found out to be the truth because he left Sirius there. Now he wants to bury his head in the sand about the return of you-know-who. What I don't get is Professor Dumbledore has been telling everyone since you-know-who first disappeared that he wasn't dead, that he would return. Why hasn't he made sure we had decent teachers for defence? We're about to be involved in this war yet we're not even up to scratch for just finishing our fourth year. Harry knows more spells than other fourth year only because he had to learn for the tournament.'

'We could get Harry to teach us when we return to Hogwarts, I'm sure we can find somewhere to practice. I could ask the twins, they know every secret there is about Hogwarts.'

'Don't mention it yet,' Hermione gestured with her head towards Harry who was staring out the window, 'I doubt he would want to hear anything like that.'

'He really shouldn't be sent to those muggles, not after what he went through and we don't even know everything.'

'Dumbledore heard what happened, I'm sure he would not send Harry to his relatives if he thought it would hurt him.'

'They don't like him Hermione and it's not like he could talk to them even if he wanted to. He should be with…Snuffles, he could understand.'

'Yes, that is true, even if I don't think Sirius is up to much, he will need a lot of time to get over the affects of the dementors.'

'I don't think that matters, he cares for Harry where the muggles don't and right now he needs people that care about him.'

'Yes, he does,' Hermione said sadly as she glanced at her friend. She was worried about Harry but wasn't sure what she could do to help him. She knew he must be traumatised, but for some reason the headmaster doesn't seem to understand that Harry needs to be with people that care about him. Not stuck at privet drive with those people who wouldn't care if Harry lived or died. She was also worried because the headmaster had told them not to write to Harry, to give him some space. Hermione knew that was the wrong thing to do when someone has been traumatised as Harry had, but she also knew she could argue with the headmaster. He would just do what he thought was best even if it wasn't.

The moment Harry got into number four he realised something had changed, his so called family locked him up again. They hadn't done that since Harry told them about Sirius. One good thing, there were no bars on the window so he could at least allow Hedwig to come and go.

Three weeks had gone and Harry hadn't received one single letter. He had sent Hedwig out, hoping for some news, but also for some food. The Dursley's only allowed him to have one slice of bread a day. He could only get a drink when he was allowed to use the bathroom, he would drink as much as he could before his uncle locked him back up again. Harry had no idea why he was being ignored by his friends, but to have the guards who were outside the house ignore his calls for help began to make him angry.

When another week passed and still no word or help, Harry had enough. He grabbed some parchment and a quill.

'It was time people realised I wasn't just going to put up with this shit,' he was locked up, hardly anything to eat, the order didn't care when he yelled for them to help and none of his letters were answered. He hadn't received one letter since the first lot, Ron, Hermione and Sirius all saying they couldn't write anything in case their letters were intercepted, apart from that the only thing they said was they would see him soon. All Harry knew was they were together which pissed Harry off even more. But to ignore his letters saying he was starving, that he had a few injuries from his uncle, it seems they didn't care. Well they would care when Harry got through with them. He wouldn't risk mentioning Sirius but he would know just how angry Harry was at him along with the others.

Harry finished writing, he put the parchment in the envelope then addressed it, 'I want this to go straight into the hands of Madam Amelia Bones, the head of the department of magical law enforcement. Then you can go hunt girl but I want to see you when you get back, just to make sure you're okay,' Harry gave his owl a pat then opened the window to allow her to fly free.

'Well, if nothing happens then I know I have no one who I can count on. If that happens then everyone is on their own, if that happens then the moment I can get away, I'm gone. I just have to work out how to get passed those people who was guarding the house without them figuring it out.'

Harry flopped back down on the bed, one hand went behind his head, he stared at the ceiling, his other hand was still too sore to use. Harry had a feeling that his wrist was either broken or sprained. His uncle had grabbed him by the wrist and lifted him before squeezing. He was used to the way his uncle and cousin treated him, but now he realised he either put up with it since no one was coming to help, or he found a way to leave. He did wonder if anything would be done. If the head of the DMLE didn't help him then he knew the whole ministry were corrupt.

Harry woke with a start, he hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep, he fixed his glasses then grabbed his wand from under his pillow. He could hear movement, yet he knew it was very late. He glanced at the old clock he had repaired when he was eleven, two thirty in the morning. Harry tensed, waiting, wondering, who would be walking around the house at this time, unless it was Dudley getting home late from terrorising the neighbourhood. Dudley got home late often, but never this late, so Harry wasn't sure what was going on. He just hoped Voldemort hadn't found where he was or sent his death eaters to get him. Harry knew Voldemort wanted to kill Harry, he wouldn't allow his pets to kill him, but it didn't mean they wouldn't torture him if they got a chance. Harry would fight even if it meant he died. If he died then he would join his parent's. He wasn't afraid of dying, he just wished he had a chance to actually live first. Now he might not get the chance.