Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters or companies. Just a fan.

Note: Finally cross-posted from my AO3 account under the same username. This is my first multi-chap fanfic, though its still a heavy WIP.

Fat, cold drops of rain splattered Harry's skin. Goosebumps broke out all over his body. He looked up at the dark, somber sky, crowded with angry clouds. He held out a hand, letting a drop land on his finger and watched as it struggled its way down. It fell off and landed on the pavement softly. Harry shivered as the rain soaked through his thin shirt and jeans, penetrating through his skin. He strolled along the street, head tilted back slightly towards the sky. Droplets dripped off the end of his nose.

Without realizing where he was going, Harry stumbled into someone. Calloused hands gripped his bare arms, steadying him.

"Are you all right, lad? What are you doing out here in this weather?" The man's voice was deep and gruff. Harry yanked himself roughly out of his grip and scrambled away, twisting through the winding alleys to ensure that the man couldn't follow him.

Huddling next to a trash can, Harry leaned his head back against the wall. He had no idea what to do or where to go. The Dursley's had locked him out again, but this time, it was permanent.

He was weeding the garden when suddenly it started to rain. He finished his work anyways, afraid of what might happen to him if he went inside without finishing his chores. When he was done, he entered the house, doing his best to avoid dripping across the floor.

Just as he stepped inside, Aunt Petunia descended on him like a bat from hell, shrieking about the mess he made of the floor, about the mud and water he had brought in. He looked at the mess she was pointing at, realizing that it must have been Dudley again, coming back from bullying other kids with his gang of friends. She shoved a rag into his hands, and forced him to scrub the floor before hauling him into the bathroom, giving him five minutes to clean up. Then she dragged him back down again to cook dinner for Uncle Vernon's guests that were due in two hours, hovering over him and constantly swatting at his head when he made a mistake.

By the time the guests arrived, Harry had been locked back up in his cupboard once more without dinner "as punishment for the mess he had made earlier." Stomach aching, he huddled under his thin, worn blanket, trying to soak up as much warmth as he could. That was when he made the fatal mistake, the ultimate crime in his aunt and uncle's eyes. He sneezed. It immediately drew the attention of the guests, but Uncle Vernon waved it off with a strained chuckle, commenting about animals outside.

Harry, meanwhile, was panicked. He tried to hold back the oncoming sneeze, but it burst out of him once more. Staying out in the rain for so long had made him sick.
With clenched teeth, Uncle Vernon directed the guests to the sitting area, trying to distract them from the sounds coming from the cupboard. Harry did his best to muffle his sneezes and coughs into his sleeve and blanket.

When the guests finally left, Uncle Vernon stomped over to the cupboard under the stairs and roughly yanked it opened. Grabbing Harry by the collar of his shirt, he dragged him out and threw him to the ground.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, BOY! YOU LOST ME MY PROMOTION! I'M GOING TO MAKE SURE YOU NEVER BOTHER US AGAIN!"

As Vernon threw him outside, Harry could hear his aunt's attempts to dissuade his uncle from kicking him out. "Remember the letter! We can't do this, what if they find us?"

Who could they be talking about? Harry wondered, but he didn't get the chance to find out.

With no other options, Harry wrapped his arms around himself, trying to get all the warmth he could, and fell into a restless sleep. Figuring out what to do would have to wait.