This story starts off really kinda depressing and sad but it will get better after this chapter…this has not been betaed (because I don't have one) and it kinda sucks but tell me how you like it READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Disclaimer: I do not and will never own Harry Potter

Dead. That was a good way to describe him now. Emotionless. Beaten. Bleeding. Numb. All such good and interesting words to describe him. Harry sat on his bed and wondered where his life had gone. Sixteen and he was already wishing he were dead. It was such a simple word yet so powerful, death; it inspired such different feelings in people like sadness and loss but now it only made him think of absolute blissful nothingness. He was dying and he knew it he only wished he could have taken Voldemort with him. Vernon would be back in soon maybe this time he would finish the job. Bruises covered his body and dried blood was smeared across his back but pain had no effect anymore. Harry smiled wistfully thinking of seeing Sirius and his parents again he had no more ties to this world anyway, he longer had friends, allies, or a mentor. Anger swept over his tired body but he did not move he couldn't anymore without pain and while he welcomed death he didn't look to fondly on torturing himself. He thought of the letters he had received a few days ago when he had finally given up hope….

Dear Harry,

How are you doing? You know you can tell me anything right? I can help you and remember tell me if you feel sick or have any dreams. I swear Ill be there for you and don't forget to tell Dumbledore if your having any dreams or angry feelings-there probably Voldemort's. Anyway send me back a letter as soon as possible.

Sincerely,

Hermione

He had also gotten a letter from Ron the same day…

Hey Mate,

We miss you but we can't tell you anything that's going on here. So sorry can only tell you we are at Padfoot's old place. Mione and I moved in and so did the rest of the club. Guess what? Mione and I are getting training this summer I'm sure when you get here you'll get training to. But Dumbledore told us to tell you your not coming till last week of August sorry but I'm sure you can stand those muggles for the 3 weeks or so. Also sorry I know your birthday was yesterday and we didn't send presents but we promise to give them to you when we see you in 3 weeks. See you soon.

From

Ron

He had no more friends and he no longer had any hope of getting out of the Dursley house before being killed so he had accepted death and this betrayal and moved on.

The letters were actually kinda funny now that he saw through their pale pathetic acts; it was obvious they were looking after him for Dumbledore and that they didn't want to see him. He wasn't going to survive the next three weeks it was obvious that Dursley would kill him long before they came to get him.

Suddenly the door to his room slammed open and Vernon stomped in right on cue. Held in his hands was a wicked gleaming butcher knife taunting Harry with its promise of death. Vernon sneered and said, "this is the end freak but you know that don't you? I can see it in your eyes well don't worry it'll all be over soon enough"

Obviously he had thought this would scare or anger Harry and just a few short days ago it would have but long ago had he accepted and welcomed death so he gave no reaction to Vernon.

So he stomped closer and closer to the bed hoping for a plea for mercy or even just a whimper at the thought or death but even as Vernon raised the knife Harry just kept staring at the knife. It was actually quite pretty in its own deadly way and even as the blade came down on him and he could see the blood running down his chest and the pain ripping through his body Harry just laid there and admired the blade he wasn't giving Vernon the satisfaction of a scream. And so bored already Vernon left Harry to his fate of bleeding to death and Harry just laid there and felt the pain sear across his chest and stomach. Blood stained the dirty sheets and was splattered on the wall and floor around the bed; still Harry just lay there and welcomed the darkness that was slowly taking him over and soon with a sense of relief in his chest he smiled and stopped breathing and was gone.

A tall dark man made his way down Privet Drive and up into the Dursley house. Smirking as he silently passed the elder Dursley gorging himself on food on his favorite armchair the man glided up the stairs without anyone noticing him. For the second time in an hour the door to Harry Potter's room creaked open ominously and the man slipped inside and over to the gruesome scene on the bed. Silver eyes shined in the darkness as the cut up body of Harry reflected itself in his eyes. He appreciated the gory scene and even took a second to admire the knife Dursley had used. The man could see the sccene playing before him and was proud to see the boy hadn't made a sound. Looking down this stranger noticed the smile on Harry's face and laughed slightly. He had smiled when faced with the unknown and the man understood and liked that about Harry. This strange and scary man was death himself.

Waving a hand over the body he muttered a few words in a language long lost to human ears and smiled a little. After a minute the body of Harry Potter shuddered then groaned and eyes snapped open revealing not the emerald green of before but shining silver the same color as the man's…

To be continued….

A/N: So i had major writers block for a very long time and I don't even think this is very good but it's a start. I will still be working on A New Kind of Power but if you like this Ill definitly make it longer. Review Please!

P.S and if you hate ill take it down