Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter!

Chapter 1

It was the end of his fourth year when Harry Potter realized exactly what he had gotten himself into. With his mother's green eyes and his father's slim build and overly messy hair, the fourteen year old finally knew exactly what had been done to him and what, in the future, would be done to him by the wizarding world.

Beforehand, when he had been told that he was the savior of the wizarding world, the Boy-Who-Lived (ridiculous moniker, that one); he had thought that it was a meaningless title. The very idea that he had survived the killing curse, the most unforgivable of unforgivable curses had not meant anything to him.

In fact, he had wondered why the Wizarding World had focused its attention on him.

As he hid from his fame, being both loved and ridiculed by the press depending on the days he had come to realize that it was the Headmaster of Hogwarts who kept throwing him in the public eye.

Each test he faced made him more bitter, and by the dreadful end of the Triwizard Tournament, in which Cedric Diggory (a fellow champion) had died, he had wondered if his survival had been a fluke, an accident as the result of his mother's sacrifice.

And, after being shoved on the train, while still in shock over the death of Cedric, he had come to realize how much the Wizarding World relied on him.

They relied on a child, the boy who had lived in a cupboard, to defeat the greatest and most feared Dark Lord in ages. It was ridiculous really, to expect a child to save the world for you after branding him an attention-seeking lunatic.

He wondered why he continued to try to please them. What did they really want him to do?

They changed their opinion of him so much, that he had given up on trying to figure out the best way to do the right thing while staying out of their way.

The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had said that it was best to not worry about anything but living up to his expectations.

But what were they?

There was something that the Headmaster was not telling him, and he wanted to know what it was.

In the meantime, however, while he was not needed Dumbledore just shoved him to the side to deal with his abhorrent relatives.

And as he lay in his dilapidated old bed, staring at the various cracks in the ceiling, he wondered what exactly the "all-knowing" old man would do if he just happened to disappear?

For that matter, what would the wizarding world do?

Taking a deep breath, Harry rolled over and quickly popped open his all-purpose loose floorboard to retrieve a piece of Honeydukes chocolate, his favorite snack. Dudley was, once again, on a diet, and he had been reduced to such meager portions that it was ridiculous.

It was a wonder that they were even trying to implement yet another useless diet. Dudley had, after all, steadily gained weight to the point where he almost had to walk sideways to fit through the door.

Chewing pensively, he imagined mass panic until the press came up with a new pack of lies.

Hmm…

They would either assure everyone that he would return once he missed the attention, or they would claim that he was the false savior, that Dumbledore had lied to everyone all these years.

He smirked at the thought of Dumbledore receiving all the hate mail from the public. He would probably have a record amount of Howlers.

Who knows?

Maybe he would even have to find himself another savior to save the world from evil Voldemort.

The whole situation was unbelievable, and at least, if he wanted to escape from everyone's attention, then he should do something about it.

It was at this point that Harry made his first entirely selfish decision in his life.

He was going to do it.

He was going to leave the Dursley's, where he talked to no one, heard nothing, and pretended that he did not exist, and finally make decisions for himself.

Granted, this was probably a very reckless thing to do that would probably get him killed, but at least he was thinking for himself for once, rather that everyone else.

Nodding firmly to himself, Harry sat up and gazed out the small window that was thankfully not barred or sealed shut this summer. However, the price that he had to pay for it was not worth thinking about.

Even though it was mid-evening, it was still light out. Light enough, it seemed, for his cousin, Dudley (overly obese whale that he was), to skulk around outside with his ever-present gang of idiots.

He hoped that all of the younger kids on the street remembered to stay inside; otherwise, they would quickly find themselves targets of the "gang."

Sighing, Harry bent over and pushed the empty wrapper back under the loose floorboard, to be thrown into the trash at a later opportunity. Looking around he noticed, once again, the lack of personal items.

All he had was Hedwig's cage, his textbooks (which had been almost impossible to get Uncle Vernon to let him have), a pile of parchment and ink, and his loose floorboard full of food and various items that he treasured.

Truly, it would be no hardship to leave this place.

He picked up a quill and idly played with it as he pondered his options.

Whom exactly could he stay with?

Who would accept him?

He refused to go off to the Leaky Cauldron. That would be one of the first places that they looked for him.

He needed to live with someone that would hide him.

Most of his friends were out of the question since their homes were unsafe or they would sell him out at the first chance they got.

He was not stupid; he realized that most of his "friends" were eager to drink in some of his unwanted fame. He only dealt with them to prevent himself from making even more enemies.

The only true friends he had were Hermione Granger and Fred and George Weasley, both who lived in an unsafe home.

Hermione, with her Muggle family, and Fred and George with their brother, Ron Weasley, his year mate, who used to be his best friend.

Well, his best friend on Dumbledore's orders, really.

He'd found out by accident in his third year during the same conversation in which he had discovered he was being hunted by Sirius Black.

Over the last year the Triwizard Tournament had firmly, finally driven them both apart. Ron's jealousy over his participation in the tournament had become extreme as the year progressed, driving a wedge between him and his brothers, as well as Hermione.

Ron had then gone further and had attempted to get Harry removed from the tower, using past accusations and rumors. Only interference from Professor McGonagall, his strict Head of House and Transfiguration instructor, had saved the house from a certain civil war.

However, even with her interference, the strain on the relationship had been almost too much to bear. The final straw, however, had come when Ron had initiated a formal inquiry against Professor Snape, who through a series of detentions had eventually become Harry's mentor and friend.

It had taken the rest of the year to prove that nothing appropriate had occurred. Nevertheless, the year had ended on a bad note, and Harry had realized that his relationship with Ron would never recover.

Not that he would want it to.

So, the Weasleys were out. His appearance would only create a strong rift in the family, and he would be completely at the mercy of Dumbledore's machinations.

The last thing that he wanted.

The next on his list were the other adults that he knew. There weren't that many (due to Dumbledore) and the ones that he did have…well most of them were on the old man's payroll.

This included all of the professors at Hogwarts, except for, well, Snape.

But Snape would be at risk if he went to him, and being a double agent was risk enough.

No, that would not do at all.

Out of all the people that he knew, and trusted to not be Death Eaters in disguise, it looked like Sirius and Remus were the only ones left who weren't in the secret organization of Dumbledore's that no one had told him of yet.

Harry grimaced as he thought over his prospects.

The former was an escaped convict and the latter was a werewolf. He loved them both, but their status really made it difficult for him to live with them.

Well, there really was no one else, and beggars couldn't be choosers…

He debated internally for a moment before deciding to write Remus. The man did know more than the average amount of defensive charms, and he had an unplottable safe house.

Maybe he could manage to get Sirius to come stay with them; if they could find Sirius…

At least Remus wasn't on the run from the Ministry; there would be less aurors that way.

Dipping his now battered quill in ink, he searched his stack of rumpled and stained parchment (Dudley really loved to destroy his things) for a few seconds before digging one out that looked remotely clean.

Dear Remus, he scribbled quickly, ignoring the slight pain in his hands as he wrote.

I've had enough.

Frowning, Harry idly tapped the parchment as the thought of the best way to put his next words. He had to phrase it so that Remus would know to come immediately.

I think I'm beginning to understand what's really going on. I don't trust my supposedly reliable sources any longer.

A quick change would be best in the very near future.

Harry.

Smirking, he blew on the page to help the ink dry before calling Hedwig over.

Hooting softly, his longtime friend flew over to land gently on the desk. It took only a few words of coaxing (a change from his first year-she used to peck him before delivering anything), and she was ready to go.

It was but the work of a few minutes before Hedwig was sailing out the window, a letter tied firmly to her leg.

Sighing, he watched her fly until she was out of sight among the treetops.

Turning back to look at his room, he wrinkled his nose before wearily reaching for his Potions textbook (again) in an effort to understand next years curriculum. Ever since his detentions began with Snape he had slowly developed a better understanding of the class.

Severus said that if he continued to study he would do well on his OWLS. And he was determined to do so, if only to prove that he was not a complete dunderhead.

Frowning, Harry read the theory on Dreamless Sleep. He understood the properties of the ingredients and how they affected the potion, but he was not sure why he had to stir clockwise on the sixth step and counterclockwise on the eighth.

He made a mental note to pick up a copy of a basic book on Potions' methods next chance he got.

Severus had said that it would be more helpful.

And he really needed to do better. Not to be an auror, as most people thought he would be. Actually, he thought he might be a mediwizard like Madam Pomfrey.

Or maybe a Healer.

That would be nice. To get the chance to heal people for once, instead of being expected to hurt them.

If only…

Harry reached over and grabbed his Herbology book and started to take notes on the ingredients found in the potion. Maybe this would give him the answers he needed, or at least gave some hint.

After all, it would be a while before he was able to get that book.

End Chapter 1! Please review! Every review is appreciated, especially constructive criticism!!!