Disclaimer: Would I need a student loan if I owned Harry Potter and affiliates? No! Sadly, I do need/have a student loan and therefore do not own Harry Potter.

It was relatively warm today. But I couldn't let the heat get to me – I was on the run. Why am I on the run when I should be safe at home with my family, you may ask. Well you see, my parents are dead – killed by this monster Lord Voldemort. Most people call him the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, or my personal favourite, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Yes, I was on the run from him for he had turned his wrath upon me when I was naught but an infant merely a year old. My mum sacrificed herself to protect me and when his evil being turned upon me, his killing curse backfired and hit him instead of me, thus marking me as the savior of the wizarding world and adorning me with a curse scar in the shape of a lightning bolt that aches whenever Voldemort is around me or is feeling particularly mad.

Did I mention that I was a wizard? No? Well I am! I found out when I was 11 years old. The first wizard I ever met banged down the door, threatened my aunt and uncle, and gave my cousin a curly pig's tail. To me he gave a letter from Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He also took me to buy my school supplies at Diagon Alley and bought me my owl Hedwig. They were my first gifts of any sort and I cherished them dearly. I had many adventures and trials in my school days. It was there that I met friends and made enemies as well as learned about my past and its connection to Voldemort. But I always had to return to 4 Private Dr.

It was no secret really that I hated living with the Dursley's – that's my supposed family's name; Aunt Petunia Dursley, Uncle Vernon Dursley, and Cousin Dudley Dursley. I say supposed because I believe that families don't do what mine does to me. They beat me for things that weren't my fault, starved me, and kept me locked away in my bedroom – the cupboard under the stairs. When I first got my Hogwart's letter, Uncle Vernon moved me into Dudley's old bedroom. He used the excuse that I was too big for the cupboard but I know that he was only suspicious that others of my kind were watching me; my letter had been addressed to the "cupboard under the stairs".

The summer after my sixth year at school was not a pleasant one. My godfather Sirius Black had died one year ago now and the anniversary had been tough. Headmaster Dumbledore insisted that I remain with my "family" this summer, even though I was going to be turning 17 and become of legal age this summer. I wanted to set out as quick as possible to set about my task of defeating Voldemort just as the prophesy said I must. However, Dumbledore said I must remain because I had to attend my final year at Hogwarts and the blood wards created by the bond between me and Petunia would last for this summer and then I would be unsafe to return the following one. The blood wards were designed to protect me from the outside, but what about protecting me from the inside? Needless to say, I didn't buy his story – not one little bit!

I was "home" that summer for a mere two days – just long enough for Vernon to kill Hedwig for making to much noise and then to start beating on me again. I had had enough so I ran. I ran from that house and now here I am. I am still running and hiding from the Dursley's, the Order of the Phoenix (I wasn't too impressed with Dumbledore at the current time), and of course, from Voldemort. I had no intention of returning to Hogwart's anymore but nevertheless, I was still in Diagon Alley. I had to replenish my funds and buy a few things to help me along; Gringotts Bank was where I had just come from when I saw them – Death Eaters, Voldemort's minions. There were two of them – Dolohov from the inner circle and another one with short sandy hair and freckles that I did not recognize and figured he must be from the outer circle. It was the lower ranking Death Eater who noticed me and alerted his companion. Well I sure wasn't going to stick around and wait to see what happened next. I high-tailed it out of there and ducked back into muggle London.

I slowly calmed my breath thinking I was safe again and headed off in a new direction. As I rounded a corner I saw Tonks and Remus up ahead. I briefly wondered what they were doing here in muggle London before remembering that Tonks was an auror and probably patrolling the outskirts of Diagon Alley. Remus was a werewolf so he was probably gaining some protection just by being with an auror; werewolves didn't get out much as they were so looked down upon by society. I quickly changed direction again. I didn't want to be spotted by them either for I was sure they would tell Dumbledore they'd seen me and then it would be a while before I got some good rest again.

My luck seemed to have run out though, for as I rounded another corner, I came face to face with Vernon Dursley, my fat uncle – you remember – the one I ran away from when he killed my beloved pet owl. He was at a supermarket and was checking out the hardness of some fresh apples and tomatoes while eyeing the racks of potato chips that hung just inside the store. Petunia must still be enforcing that ridiculous diet Dudley's school nurse had suggested to help him lose weight. The world must have been against me for he chose that moment to look up and spotted me. I can tell you right now that the look in his eyes was downright eerie. It almost made Voldemort look like a cuddly kitten. Almost. I could see the wheels turning and stupidly did what I hadn't waited to do back with the Death Eaters or Remus and Tonks; I waited to see what would happen next. Finally it clicked what was about to happen and I decided to run while I still had the chance.

Now don't ask me how but I ducked down into a side alley in hopes of Vernon losing sight of me. It didn't work. Vernon had caught up to me. Frightened now, I turned to run though my screaming muscles protested. I didn't get too far – I tripped on a rock and landed face first in the mud. Before I could blink and as I weakly pushed myself up, Vernon was upon me. He started beating me senselessly. A part of me still thinks that he didn't realize what he was doing.

"Ge-get o-off of m-me!" I said but of course, just like with every other beating, my pleading went unnoticed. Then I felt my arm break. I screamed with the pain.

"Help! Help me! Someone – anyone! Help!" I cried.

It was weird. I don't know how or what had happened but Vernon was no longer on top of me nor was he still beating me to a bloody pulp. Somehow I managed to hesitantly stand again on my shaky legs that currently felt like bruised Jello. I inspected my broken arm and was thankful that it wasn't an extrusive fracture. That meant it would heal on its own given some time. With one arm I attempted to brush the dirt and the mud off of my shirt front and my now ripped jeans. When I looked up I froze with my returning fear. I was staring at Lord Voldemort – the one who had killed my parents and who had attempted to kill me on numerous occasions. If I hadn't been so busy plotting my escape, I might have noticed that he actually looked worried about me. This was turning out to be one Hell of a day!

"No! Not you! Anyone but you! No!" I muttered finally finding my voice. I turned around putting my back to him and didn't notice his expression of shock. I started to run again but only took three or four brisk paces forward when I nearly ran smack right into him. How did he get in front of me so quickly?

"Stay away from me! Go away!" I yelled angrily and pushed him back with my one good arm. Yes, that's right. I, Harry James Potter, had pushed the Darkest Lord of all time! Most people never even think of touching him in favour of cowering, pleading and begging for their lives instead. Yet again I let my foolish Gryffindor instincts get the better of me.

I spun around again deciding it would be a good idea to attempt to run away again. Before I could move though I felt a warm body against the back of mine and felt the icy breath of the monster behind me.

"Don't even think about moving Potter!" I heard him hiss coldly. He whispered my name in Parsletongue causing me to involuntarily shiver as my whole spine, neck included, tingled. O great! Here I was, about to die. The alley was now freezing despite the warmth of the sun that had been radiantly shining down on Earth all day long. I suddenly felt extremely stupid! My wand was still stuffed in my pocket, forgotten in the rush of activities. I could grab it and attempt to defend myself but what's the point? Voldemort would kill me before I even had a chance to move! I gulped, fearing the worst.

"You've been very difficult to find my slippery serpent, but I have you in my grasp at last!" I could hear the smirk in voice. As I started to take a pace forward again, I felt Voldemort snake his arm around my waist and hold me close to him.

"I don't think so! You're not getting away this time." I started to struggle but it was no use. I couldn't move and my arm was hurting to much to put up much of a fight. I was about to say something but as soon as I opened my mouth, I felt Voldemort even closer to me than before. I didn't think it was possible for him to bet any closer. My scar started to burn like fire adding to the pain of my scar. It was pure bliss when I finally felt Voldemort bite down on my neck and I gave way to unconsciousness.