Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight nor will I ever

This is SLASH don't read if you don't like, if you do then please ENJOY!

BIG thanks to 'Amu4ever' for all the help with this story and giving me this idea and some others. This story would have not happened if not for you, THANKS :3

'Thoughts'

Good boys don't cry…..

Harry forces himself to remember as the blows keep coming. They keep coming, aimed perfectly to inflict pain to draw out a cry. He bites his lip to keep a cry from escaping and squeezes his eyes closes tighter to trap the tears.

Bones braking into pieces as his already broken body receives its punishment.

Good boys don't scream

"You freaks need to learn discipline and manners. Right, boy?" Vernon wraps two fingers around his chin and drags his face closer.

"Yes sir." He answers

"Good little freak." His hand moves to Harry's hair yanking his head back to the floor, his head meets the floor with a loud SMACK. There is a sharp metallic tasting liquid in his mouth. Blood. Such a familiar taste that it's almost comforting, reminding him if he can still taste he is still alive.

Good boys always listen

Just need to live one day at a time. He can't think about tomorrow because there is no guarantee that he will be there to see it. He wants to able to know that there is a tomorrow for him but there is only so much his hurt can take and it is already just barely beating. So weak. Wanting to just give in to that blissful peace that's waiting for him to give up.

He hears laughter coming from somewhere in the room, Vernon's lips are tightly shut in concentration so it didn't come from him. Maybe he was finally going crazy, a real genuine freak, his uncle will be happy to know he was right. He laughs instead it comes out as a pained gasp since at the same time a fist cuts off all air as it collides with his throat.

Choking and sputtering he tries to take a breath, his lungs refuse any attempt and he lies wheezing on the floor.

His body aches, he doesn't even need to look to know that every inch of skin is battered and bruised. It takes a lot of effort to not curl up, and protect his frail body, each time he knew another blow was coming.

Wincing when he feels something cold gently caressing along the length of his spine.

'No please not this.' Shuttering at the feeling, he knows what is coming and there is no way of stopping him now. Tears silently escape as waits for the familiar pain to consume him.

He cries out when more pressure is put on the blade and it breaks through skin and just as quickly the cutting stops. The action is repeated somewhere else on his back causing him to cry out again. Again and again small shallow cuts are made. Not deep enough to kill him from blood loss but just deep enough to leave a scar. A reminder that this is what he deserves because it is what he asked for by being a freak and a whore and nobody cares about me. He knows this because his uncle told him, and his family wouldn't lie to him, they couldn't.

Another slice of that heartless blade leaves him feeling weaker, not too weak that he doesn't cry out each time it breaks new skin, but just too weak to care that it hurts. It hurts so much each new cut drawing more blood away. Each cut leaving him gasping for the air his scream took away. Each cut hurting less because his body is feeling lighter. Each cut reminds him that no one will come and save him.

"Look at this mess you made." He grabs Harry by the hair again and pushes his face into a puddle of his own blood. "You better clean it up."

"Yes sir." He says weakly.

Vernon moves away, too weak to move his head so he just waits. He isn't done yet, Harry knows this from experience he isn't done as long as Harry is still conscious. He hears him return and kneels down beside him.

Screaming more than before he kicks desperate to get away from this agonizing pain; something cold and liquid was being poured on his now lacerated back. It feels like complete agony, his breath is caught in his throat like it is too afraid to come out. Whatever this new technique of inflicting more pain upon him is, he doesn't like it. Not at all, it is unlike pain he had never felt before. Pure agonizing pain.

Slowly the pain starts to dull and he can breathe again, only they come in quick gasps. He lies limp on the ground both because he is too weak and too scared to try.

Suddenly a calm comforting feeling washes over him taking that fear with it. His body starts to relax and he feels himself begin to slip away.

'Not yet, please not yet.' He begs as he feels his eyes start to close on their own as he slowly drifts away from reality.

The last thing he hears before he drifts away completely is his uncle leaving the room and locking the door.

~*Twins*~

Fred and George pride themselves in knowing things before everyone else. Figure out little secrets people have and using it later if it isn't too serious. Come on, they are insensitive that they would betray someone's secret just for a laugh…..okay they did do that. But not with things that are not a joking matter they know when enough is enough and when not to even start.

But they when they didn't know things that they should, especially when they knew something was definitely wrong were one of the things they didn't like.

George was the first to notice something was wrong. At first he wasn't sure if it was anything at all, but then there were those little things that he started to notice. Like how a when he spends time at The Burrow near the end on the summer he doesn't like being close to anyone. But that slowly goes away after being away from home for a while.

He noticed that he would flinch slightly when people touched him, and didn't like to make eye-contact. George mentioned what he noticed to Fred and since then on both boys watched him carefully.

The next year when he came to stay with them again, George knew to look if something was off and this time Fred was there too to help keep an eye on him. And again the signs were there; the avoiding touching, flinching when people touch him, avoiding making eye-contact.

But now it seemed like it was worse than the previous year. They can hear him screaming and crying in his sleep, but they know they can't do anything. They know that their help would not be welcomed and only put more attention on him, which he doesn't need. Ron is in the room with him but he sleeps like the dead so there is no way he would wake up and comfort him.

Each night Fred and George hear him in distress and can only look at each other wondering how no one else can hear him screaming.

He eats almost nothing now, he pretends to so their mum doesn't make a fuss over him but they notice how he hides food and puts it back when he thinks no one is looking. He never sees the worried glances exchanged between the twins. He doesn't see how they physically restrain each other from going to comfort him. He doesn't see how much they really care.

George wants to tell him that they care and are here for him if he ever needs them, but Fred keeps reminding him that it wouldn't help because he wouldn't believe and then would start distancing himself from them and then there would be nothing they could do.

So for now all they could do was watch; even right now their minds drift to him. George noticed that he ends up thinking about him a lot more since his birthday. And his eyes wander over to him without him knowing, and if he thought he was protective before it doubled now and he has no idea why.

~*MP*~

"Fred?" Fred turns to his brother from his spot opposite from him on the couch. "We should-"

"Go get Harry? Yeah I know. I feel really anxious to see him and I don't-"

"Like him staying with those people longer than he must." George gets up from the couch. "So, shall we go collect our dear friend from that hellish pit?"

"We shall." Fred says laughing. And they grab their coats but their coats weren't the only thing they were wearing; identical smirks were on their since they were both thinking of what they were going to do to those people who Harry calls family. No one hurts him.

They apparated number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey was nothing special in their eyes. Together they walked to the door and knocked.

"Are they even home?" Fred says after a few minutes without an answer. George moves over to the window and peeks inside.

"No one's there." He says.

"Maybe he was left here…" Fred suggests.

"Only one way to find out." George takes out his wand and casts an unlocking charm.

After making their way inside the house they go upstairs to Harry's room. Fred makes a disgusted sound when he sees all the locks on the one door, he wastes no time unlocking them and making their way into the room.

Empty. They look around the room but it is empty, and not just of people. There is almost nothing in the small room and a Harry is one of things missing.

"I guess we came for nothing." Fred says and turns to leave. Fred is about to follow his brother when he notices movement coming from under the blanket on the bed. Slowly he walk over to bed to check what is was. It couldn't be Harry; it was much too small to be him. Whatever it was it really small. He turns and sees George watching him from the doorway with one eyebrow raised. Obviously he didn't see what Fred did.

Fred sits on the edge on the bed and lifts the blanket carefully. There is a flash of something black and it's gone.

He looks around the room for whatever that thing was but sees nothing. His eyes meet George's, he looks shocked.

"What was that?" George asks.

"I don't know, did you see where it went?" Fred asks, looking for a place it might have hid. What if it ran out of the room? What if it was Harry's pet? Harry was going to hate them if they lost a pet he was hiding from the Dursleys. They needed to find it now before they got back.

George walked over to the bed and knelt down looking underneath. He gasps and almost backs away. Two bright eyes green were staring straight at him. He takes out his wand again.

"Lumos." He casts. The little creature backs further away from the sudden light. A kitten, it's a small black kitten with bright green eyes. Its entire body is black except for a bit of white between his eyes and his right front paw which was also white.

He reaches out his arm very carefully without it noticing and once he was close enough he quickly grabbed it by the scruff of its neck.

Triumphantly he holds out the small kitten for Fred to see, he smile and pets its head.

"How odd, its eyes look exactly like Harry's." He takes the kitten from George and sits on the bed again this time with the kitten on his lap.

George's eyes widen and he looks around the room. Then he sees what he missed before; pile of clothes in the middle of the room, seemingly out of place inside a perfectly clean and organized room. He walks over to the clothes and picks them up. They are torn up and soaked in blood, he holds in a gag from the fowl scent coming off of them. There was more blood on the floor where the clothing was.

He glances back at Fred who was watching him carefully, his eyes holding the same question George wondered. How could they of missed this?

"Do you think that-" He starts.

"This cute little kitten could be our Harry?" Fred finishes.

"But how?"

"He's done weirder." He smiles looks down at the kitten again, it looks back up at him with those beautiful green, they were like Harry's now that he was looking closer that there was no way this wasn't him.

Now how did he get like this?

~*MP*~

So what do you think? Review and tell please, I appreciate honesty

Question~ Who of Harry's friends should lead on? Or not a friend?

NEXT CHAPTER- They get Harry away from there and try to get him to turn back.