Ok, I know you may think I'm crazy, as you may think I have three fics going at one time. NO. I have put Crimson Tears on hiatus and probably wont finish it. Sorry to all who were actually reading it. This fic will be better than that, and will have little more angst and violence. Yum.

Anyhoo, I wont blab on for hours on end, as I usually do. I was writing Shoot the Moon and I just couldn't make it suicide, as I knew the people who read it wouldn't go for it. So, here it is, to lighten my day, and hopefully yours.

Disclaimer: Lyrics of Starseed belong to Our Lady Peace. Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I, therefore, own nothing.
Starseed

I Let Go of the World That was Holding a Passenger That Could Not Fly

Harry felt the coldness of the window touch his temple as he leaned against it. He watched the heavy rain beat down upon Privet Drive from the window of the smallest bedroom of number four. His brilliant green eyes, followed the raindrops as they hit the window with a small sound and carved their way to the bottom on the glass, joining with some on the way. Harry closed his eyes, enjoying the small patter the rain made against the window glass. He sighed. It was a beautiful day to him. There was no sun. It had been hidden by the storm clouds even before he had woken up. He had opened his eyes to a small flash of lightening in the small valley behind rows of houses.

He opened his eyes again. He couldn't see the small collection of colours in each drop of rain. He couldn't see where each streak of water on the window started and finished. His uncle, had thought it best to dispose of his glasses the minute Harry got home. After giving Harry a good punch in the stomach, his glasses managed to fly off of his face, and fight in front of Vernon. Harry wouldn't bend down to retrieve them. He couldn't expose his back to Vernon, who would certainly punch him in the back hard, as he often did. After the odd good one, it left Harry immobile for days, which pushed Vernon to the edge of his anger.

Vernon had always been like this. As long as Harry could remember anyways. He would always return from work with a purple face full of rage, his eyes dark with anger, and just at his temple, Vernon's vein would throb with every quick pace of his heart. Grunnings wasn't doing well, and now either were the Dursleys financially. People were constantly phoning the house, harassing them for the money they were due. Vernon would not allow anyone to pick up the phone, and didn't even notice when it was disconnected, due to unpaid bills.

Vernon took all his anger and frustration out on Harry. Harry hadn't expected ithisi. He didn't think it would ever get this bad. Before, when he was little, as far back as he could remember, the beatings were small. He wouldn't be punched or kicked, only slapped or thrown around. They would lock him in the garage as a child when they had important guests over and couldn't risk the cupboard. Harry hated all those long nights in the garage. It was so cold. The garage was never heated, and he was sometimes left out for long winter nights, when the cold air would make his flesh raw. He would have to sit on boxes, or sometimes just the ground. The ground would always be colder than the air, and it stuck to his skin, freezing it until it was red and burning.

The Dursley household was different than it used to be. No longer did Petunia Dursley give her homely, horse like smile to her son as he waddled off to school. No longer did she bustle around the house humming an annoying tune from a local country music station.

Petunia Dursley spent her time in her room. She lay in bed for most of the day. When the doctors came, they didn't know what was wrong with her at first, then found out she was manic depressive. She would be severely depressed most of the time, and she would just stare straight ahead, not even recognising anyone anymore. She wasn't Petunia Dursley anymore. Vernon had done this to her. She had seen what her husband did to her nephew. She hated the boy, she hated him with a passion, but no child deserved what Harry got. When she protested that he should tone it down, the anger turned on her.

Harry hadn't expected one morning for his aunt to come limping down the stairs, one arm hung limply at her side, and one eye swollen shut. She could only manage a few more days before she snapped. Dudley hadn't been the same since his mother snapped. He blamed Harry, but stayed far away from Vernon, even though he and his father were normally on excellent terms, he had seen what this man could do.

This summer however, it had been especially bad. Vernon would threaten him with bigger stuff now, knives, metal bats. They were real threats. Not what they used to be. Not just to get him to do his chores. Vernon thought of chores as only a little thing nowadays. Often he hurt Harry enough that Harry couldn't do the chores, which left the house in disarray.

Harry sighed as he saw a familiar car pull up into the driveway. Vernon was home. Harry watched with fright coursing through his veins as the large, beefy man pulled himself out of his car with some difficulty. His eyes widened as Vernon slammed the car door hard. Harry was surprised the glass didn't break. Vernon usually, although less noticeable, had the same waddle as his son when he normally walked, his weight would shift from foot to foot temporarily, jostling his rolls. Harry noted that today however, Vernon had a quick angry pace. Although he was a very large man, he was surprisingly fast. Harry's ears pricked up at the sound of the front door opening, then loud thumping footsteps in the foyer. Harry's heart pace quickened as he knew Vernon was angry. Really angry.

Suddenly, before Harry even knew Vernon was up the stairs, his door burst open. He didn't say a word, just stood in the doorway breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down. Harry's breath hitched in his throat. Vernon suddenly launched himself at Harry and grabbed him by the neck.

"You know what they're doing now boy?" He said in a fake calm voice. Harry couldn't speak, just shook his head.

"They're laying me off! There's no need for my services anymore! But you know what they actually meant?" Again Harry shook his head.

"They don't want people working for them who have abnormalities in their family!" Vernon said, eyes bulging. Suddenly, the grip on Harry's neck became tighter. Harry gasped. There was no more air. He struggled, grabbing Vernon's wrists as tight as he could. He started struggling harder as the need for air became stronger. Harry began to dig his nails into Vernon's beefy hands. Harry could tell he was drawing blood. Vernon let out a strangled gurgle at this and kicked Harry in the leg. Harry closed his eyes. Harry could tell he wasn't going to last any longer. Harry didn't want to die this way. Harry started to kick Vernon as hard as he could, and eventually got him in the testicles, causing the grip to drop, and Vernon to yelp. Vernon fell to the floor, clutching himself, as Harry gasped for air.

"iOh no.. he's going to kill me..i" Harry thought frantically. Harry stood, a little dizzy and began to run from the room. Harry grabbed the doorframe, but felt hands grab his ankles. Harry yelped, as that was his sprained one, another fruit of Vernon's anger.

"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE BOY!" Vernon bellowed, pulled Harry back to him. Harry couldn't hold on anymore, as pain was shooting up his leg. Vernon pinned Harry beneath him and punched him hard right above the eye. Harry felt blood rushing toward the destination of each punch and kick. One hard kick to the upper ribs, felt like it lit his chest on fire. Harry gasped again, but that felt as if it was just bringing a lemon to his wounds.

Harry's eyes shot open in pain as Vernon's foot pressed into Harry's chest, pinning him to the ground again. Harry heard something snap as Vernon pushed his foot down upon Harry as hard as he could. Harry's left shoulder was against the wall, and banged painfully every time another kick came.

"I GIVE YOU FOOD! (Harry would have snorted at this) A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD! AND I LET OYU GO TO THAT SCHOOL! HOW DO YOU REPAY ME? YOU MAKE ME LOOSE MY JOB! YOU'LL NEVER GO BACK TO THAT SCHOOL!" Vernon yelled exiting the room. Harry lay on the floor, blood seeping from his mouth, soaking his clothes. Harry coughed painfully, but it only caused a bigger flow of blood. Harry could barely breathe.

'Thank Merlin he's done.'

Harry sighed, thinking it was over, but the door soon banged open revealing Vernon with something long, black.. The rifle.

_ _

"Ron! Get down here!" Hermione bellowed at the redhead who was suspended in mid air, hovering on his broomstick. He stopped trying to hit Fred over the head with a beater bat, and touched down.

"What? I am not doing my homework now! I'll do it when Harry comes over," Ron said in exasperation.

"That's what I need to talk to you about!"

"I'm in no mood to discuss homework Hermione."

"No! Harry you prat!" Hermione said, causing Ron to stop walking away from her.

"What about Harry?" Ron asked, facing her completely.

"I just got Hedwig back.."

"Yes.."

"Ron stop interrupting me! Hedwig didn't deliver the letter!" Hermione said in a worried tone.

"Well, she is getting rather old.." Ron started.

"Your owls are older and they still deliver all their letters! Ron I really think something is wrong!" Hermione said, voice cracking. She was worried and frustrated. Ron would never listen to reason.

"Maybe.." Ron started but couldn't think of anything to say that would reassure Hermione.

"Ron we HAVE to get him!"

"Mum wouldn't like that very much.. Besides! Dumbledore said we could get him tomorrow.."

"But-"

"He'll be fine, don't worry."

Harry wasn't expecting it all to happen that fast. He just saw Vernon in the doorway with the rifle, and then a loud bang. His stomach seemed to explode with pain so intense it felt like something was eating it's way through him. He collapsed on the ground after trying to grab onto the walls failed. He slid down the whitewashed walls, creating a dark red smudge from the liquid pumping out of his stomach.

Harry lay there, holding his stomach, cradling the wound and felt the hot fluid seep onto his arms and hands. They became sticky. Harry felt a hand grab him by the hair and drag him from the room. Harry struggled, but the pain overtook him, causing him to go into semi-consciousness. He was vaguely aware of Vernon throwing him into the master bedroom closet and barricading the door with his work desk. Harry heard lots of screaming and yelling, but couldn't tell where it was coming from. Everything was cloudy. Misty. Black.
Hope you liked the first chapter. This is sort of short for a reason; I wanted to end it there.
*TITLE OF THIS STORY IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE*