Summery-Albus Dumbledore is a man who does what he thinks is right, no matter the rest of the worlds feelings. And in doing so, he has thrown Harry Potter's world into another loop before he even meets the Headmaster. What the boys is a summer jam packed with new relatives and revelations. AU, Slash! Weasley, Hermione, Dumbledore Bashing.

Pairings: 01/04, 03/02, 05/06, PW/HP

This is the Rewritten version. Pairings have changed, and hopefully its all around better. I am uploading this here, for the simple fact that I have readers who enjoyed it that may not have found it on my new site. I will leave it up, but I will be watching carefully, because to be honest I don't trust this website as far as I can throw my apartment building.

Disclaimer-I own nothing, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Also, MANY MANY THANKS, to SakuraEternity, who was gracious enough to look over this and fix a TON of errors that I didn't see. *bows down*

Harry knew something was wrong the second he jerked awake to the feeling of being dragged from his cupboard by one foot. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the blurry form of Vernon Dursley standing above him, a beefy hand reaching for him. Harry blamed his lack of reflexes on being barely awake as he failed to dodge the hand that grabbed him and yanked him from the bed by the collar of his too-large shirt.

"BOY!" Vernon shouted at him, his face purple, spittle flying into Harry's face. "Did you think you would get away with telling lies about us? Did you really think they would come SAVE you?" Harry had no idea what his Uncle was talking about, he was more concerned about trying to keep the shirt from choking the air from his lungs.

"ANSWER ME!

Harry just shook his head, his face turning red. He knew that no matter what he did, he wouldn't be able to come up with an answer good enough for his Uncle. He never could, and that was a lesson hard learned. When he continued to struggle to breath and didn't answer Vernon's question, the large man snarled in rage and threw the boy backwards towards the door of the cupboard with enough force to send both Harry and the door crashing inwards. Harry winced out of more than just pain as he felt the door break underneath him. Now he'd be picking wood splinters out of the already uncomfortable, worn in, thin mattress that was his bed, and he knew that he wouldn't get them all.

Harry lay gasping for breath, a sharp pang in his chest telling him that he probably broke a rib...or two in addition to the pieces of his door that was digging into his back. He knew that blood was already staining the surface underneath him, probably spreading. That didn't stop Vernon, who grabbed him by the foot, and pulled him out of the cupboard where his large bulk couldn't fit. A cruel grin on his face, Vernon pulled his foot back and thrust it back forward again, sending it crashing down on the form below him, knocking the air from his lungs. Harry groaned in pain and rolled over as much as he could, coughing up blood.

It was the most vicious beating that Harry could remember receiving, in a life full of them, and for the first time since arriving on his relatives doorstep, Harry knew that he was truly going to die.

And he didn't even know why. Most of the time, Vernon took great pleasure in explaining exactly how Harry was a freak, down to the last detail. He never made vague statements, also made sure Harry knew exactly what he had done wrong that time, even if it was leaving a piece of lint on the kitchen counters after he cleaned.

Never anything like this.

"I have news for you, freak, you are NEVER getting out of here. You're NEVER going to be able to spread your Freakishness to anyone else, EVER!" Harry managed to find the energy to roll away from the second stomp, though how he was never able to figure out exactly how he forced his battered body to move an inch, even years later. Unfortunately, his movement caused him to hit the bottom step of the stairs and he clenched his eyes shut as he saw Vernon moving towards him again, face red and a vein throbbing in his forehead.

He saw nothing else as he fell into the black.

Petunia Dursley felt like she was going to faint as she stepped out of her room and onto the top of the stairs, staring down at the limp bloody body of her nephew. She gave a cry of rage and glared down at her husband, who showed no remorse for the state the boy was in. Of course, she wasn't upset that the brat was injured, far from it, but it couldn't have happened at a worse time. She gripped the opened letter in her hands tighter, and turned the Freak over with her foot.

"Vernon! Now what are we going to do? They're going to be here in the morning, and you've killed him!" She felt her blood pressure rising at the thought of the trouble they were going to be in. And what the neighbors were going to think! That thought alone prompted her to almost race down the stairs and press a light hand to Harry's throat, lip curling as his blood stained her fingers but praying for a pulse. If Vernon had killed the boy, they were ruined in this town!

Fortunately, a weak pulse did flit against her fingers, and she looked up at Vernon, who was white at a sheet. He'd finally realized what he'd done, how much trouble he'd gotten them in.

"Vernon, get him to the car. If you've killed him, and Dumbledore Finds out, I'll divorce you, I swear to you I will."

She stood up and turned on her heel with a huff, heading off to wake Dudley. They didn't have very long to get the freak to the hospital, so she dragged her son out of bed, ignoring his complaints and cries for the first time in her life, and shoved him in the car next to the boy before climbing in the front herself.

Vernon backed out of the driveway like the devil was on his heels, squealing tires and causing several of the neighbors to peek out of their curtains to see what was going on, despite the late hour. Petunia winced, but faced resolutely forward. She was a smart woman, she would come up with a good reason for their leaving.

After all, the Boy was so clumsy that the neighborhood would believe anything when it came to his injuries.

She was more worried about the head of that Freak school, and how the brat ended up on her doorstep anyway, because he was NOT her nephew.

Petunia Evans was an only child.

Until that morning she woke up and wasn't.

Doctor Carlilse Dillard had seen a lot in his tour of London International Hospital, and he thought that once he started at Surrey General, he would start treating sprained ankles and cases of the flu, and he was looking forward to it. He had seen too many accidents, assaults, and domestic abuse cases and he was sick of it.

So when he went into work one Thursday night, he was expecting an easy night with enough time for him to sneak off and watch the episode of General Hospital that he had managed to tape while he was asleep that morning. What he wasn't expecting was the obese man who came barreling through the Emergency Room doors, carrying a bloody bundle in his arms and bellowing loudly for anyone who would listen.

"I need a Bloody Doctor!" Dr. Dillard threw a stethoscope over his neck and raced across the room, feeling the adrenalin flowing through his veins just like the old days.

"What happened?" His staff was behind him, and they transferred the boy, clearly young, from the mans arms and onto a gurney. They all paused and stared at the trauma that littered the boys frame, forgetting to be professional. Carlilse didn't, he had seen this before and he knew that he didn't have time to get sentimental.

"Come on people, snap to!" They moved at his voice and a nurse went to the man's side and coaxed him out of the way, dodging his hand as he reacted violently at her attempts to look him over and make sure he hadn't been injured as well. She began taking a history as Carlilse followed the circus heading into Trauma One. He didn't have time to wait to hear what had happened, he had a boy to save.

Over an hour later, and several crashes, and they finally had Harry stabilized and on his way to the ICU. Carlilse took off his bloody gown and tossed it into a HazMat can next to the door, before he headed out to the group containing the man who'd brought the boy in. They looked up as he came in, but none of them moved to ask how Harry was doing. The wife actually looked back down at her nails, unconcerned, and the little boy that was headed the quick way to a heart attack before he was twenty went back to begging for sweets. The male, Vernon Dursley they had learned from the patients history.

"Mr. And Mrs. Dursley." He forced a small smile on his face, even though he wanted to rant and rave about people who should not have children, "Harry is in ICU. We stabilized him, though with the extent of his injuries he has a long recovery ahead of him." Understatement.

Carlilse looked down at the charts he held in his hands and then steeled his nerves. It had been a long time since he'd had to face an abuser, but he wasn't going to back down. "Mr. Dursley, I need to know what happened to Harry." The man's face paled, and he eyes shifted from side to side, refusing to land on Dr. Dillard's face. Carlilse smiled briefly. The man knew that he knew, and that was what he wanted.

"We told that nurse, the boy fell down the stairs at home. He's a very clumsy child, it happens all the time." Petunia Dursley's voice was calm, and she seemed utterly unconcerned about the state her nephew was in.

But Carlilse wasn't going to fall for that.

"Mrs. Dursley, you do not sustain injuries like that from falling down the stairs. Your nephew had a perforated spleen, six broken ribs, one of which punctured his right lung, a hair line fracture to his skull, a sprained wrist, and so many contusions I could write a book about them." As he listed of injuries, not all of which were recent he was sad to know, the man went paler and paler until he sank down into a waiting room chair, the seat groaning under his weight. The wife just shrugged.

"Well, he fell down the stairs, doctor. That's what happened, and I dare you to prove otherwise." She sniffed at him, as if she thought there was no way he could. He just smirked and flipped to a page in his case file. He had never praised Polaroid Instant Photo's as much as he was with this case. He turned the page around and showed it to. She went sheet white and sank down beside her husband, placing a hand to her mouth and moaning.

Carlilse didn't blame her, it was very hard to argue with a doctor who was holding the picture of a shoe shaped bruise stamped into her nephews chest. You could even see the tread that had been on the bottom of his shoe.

Carlilse turned to the nearest security guard and motioned him closer.

"Call Preventor's, and don't let those three leave." The Guards moved in to do as they were asked, and Carlilse turned on his heel to tend to this patient again, ignoring the animal like bellows coming from behind him as the Dursley family were corralled and forced back down into the plastic hospital seats. He may be an ER doctor but there was no way on Gods green Earth that he was going to leave Harry in anyone else's hands.

He was going to see this one through til the end.

AN-And there's the first chapter of the new version. Leave a review and let me know what you think!

Slytherin