Summery:

WARNING! Abuse, rape, cutting (Self-Mutilation), Slash, and pissed-off!Harry; all rolled into one. Don't like it, don't read it. Post OOTP!

Harry is abused by the Dursleys, and in his depression begins to cut himself. After running away, Harry meets a wild club-owner in the muggle world, who befriends him and takes him under her wing. Upon Harry's return to Hogwarts, everyone is surprised by his new attitude; some are even scared. However, one particular Slytherin is intrigued by this new Harry…

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER! LAST TIME I'M GONNA SAY IT!

.:Prologue:.

He could take it no longer; he had done this before…relying on it when he couldn't deal with life.

The blade was so sharp; it called to him, pleading the way it had all the other times.

The crimson fluid dripped onto the floor, soothing his pain.

'Nobody cares anyway. How could they? After all the pain I've caused. I'm responsible for so much. I don't deserve happiness anymore.'

He pulled the blade across his skin once again. He was entranced by the steady flow of blood.

Turning to his window, he saw his reflection against the view of the night sky.

'I hate you. I HATE YOU!' He yelled in his head, he yanked the knife across wrist a third time.

He saw the blood spill faster; he dropped the knife and gripped his arm, attempting to stop the blood flow, while relishing in the pain.

As the blood slowed, he heard his "Family" yelling for him. How he hated them, he'd seen sewer rats receive better treatment.

He heard the stomps of feet, a sign that someone was coming. He looked around for something to clean up his wrist with.

He quickly settled for pulling his shirtsleeve down; he didn't worry about the stain on the floor, there was blood everywhere in that room, left behind from his punishment.

He heard someone pound on the door, "It's time to make Dinner! Get your ass downstairs!" He heard the click of the locks on his door, indicating that he was now allowed out of his room.

The boy waited until he heard the footsteps descend down the stairs; he then pulled himself up and rushed to the bathroom, where he slammed and locked the door.

He quickly plunged his forearm under the faucet. He watched as the water turned red when it touched his skin. The water was scalding and he cherished the feeling.

This was his release; his savior; his addiction…

This was a typical day, in the life of Harry Potter.