Hello all. This is my first story and I hope you enjoy it. I do not own any of JK Rowling's characters, unfortunately. This story involves drinking, drugs, and self harm, as well as slash. I hope you enjoy.

1st week of July.

5:44. The boy snubbed out his cigarette, exhaling through his small window, and pushed his fingers through his hair. Two weeks into summer hols, and he was already longing to flee back to Hogwarts. Just gotta keep my head down, he reminded himself.

Harry checked his alarm clock. 5:48. He still had twelve minutes before he had to get downstairs and cook breakfast for his aunt and uncle. Dudley would wake later, but he preferred making a protein shake for breakfast these days anyway. The large lad had also recently become ashamed of his family's treatment of Harry, and asked little of him. This benefitted Harry when he caught Dudders smoking weed with his buddies. They struck a deal: Harry would clean Dud's room every week and keep quiet about his habit if Dudley would give him an eighth. It also helped that Harry could buy alcohol for his cousin when it was needed after Fred and George helped him make an age appropriate ID.

So now, Harry packed up his little bowl and lit up, inhaling deeply. He had to monitor his consumption daily, but this was enough to get through interacting with Vernon this early. If I'm quiet and efficient, I might get a glass of milk and some toast this morning. He almost snorted to himself. Vernon hated feeding him. Always had.

Privet Drive was the same as always this summer. Just follow the rules and maybe he won't get hit too hard. Make no noise. Do all chores. Failure to comply resulted in anything between an angry lecture (where Vernon's face turned that particular shade of purple, perhaps puce) or a beating. Harry already got the belt last week for freeing Hedwig. Doing chores in the garden with sweat dripping into open wounds was most unpleasant. Harry tried to keep quiet now. He would slip, maybe drop a spoon, or roll his eyes, and would receive a sharp slap across the face, but as long as it wasn't the belt…or kicking. That really fucking hurts.

Harry had stopped caring. He always had a day or two where he had to acclimate back to the Dursleys, before he fell back into the pattern. This year had deepened it though. He stopped moaning after being hit, stopped crying out in pain, just accepted what he deserved. He did know he deserved it after all. So he just smoked weed, drank when he could, and accepted it. After all, its not like he even had real friends anymore. Not after Ron turned his back on him after he caught Harry snogging that 7th year boy. So. Defeat it was.

Harry regretted that make out session. He had been a little drunk from firewhiskey snuck in by twins, plus had a few puffs of a joint, and let his inhibitions get away from him. Now Ron thought he was disgusting. Not as disgusting as I think I am, Harry snorted bitterly, lighting the bowl again.

Hermione had sent him letters of support, but Harry did not want them. He knew what he was. Fag, queer, poof. The farther people stayed away from him, the better. After all, look at how many people died in the bloody war to try and help him. They didn't even need to. My job was to die anyway. Better to just keep to himself. He only had two more years of school left anyhow.

5:58. Harry inhaled once more, then retreated to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his hands.

Time to start the day.

11:16. Harry slipped his trainers on and put on one of Dudley's old jackets. He stuffed his weed and bowl into an old mint tin, and grabbed the pounds he had transferred from galleons last year, and slipped all of this plus his pack of cigs into his pockets. He quickly pulled up the window and climbed out onto the ladder he had placed there.

The past week was spent touching up the paint on the sides of the house (as well as many other chores), so Harry just happened to place the ladder right by his window every night. No one ever noticed because he was forced to work until after Vernon came home.

He scurried down the ladder and jumped the last few rungs, landing softly on the perfectly manicured lawn. He started down the familiar path to the closest convenience store to pick up a few beers and more cigarettes. It was secure in this quiet suburbia, and most of the well-respected citizens were asleep by now, not peering out their windows as they did in the daylight. Cops rarely patrolled these streets due to the lack of crime and white-washed charm.

As Harry shuffled down the streets, a few blocks from the Dursleys', he heard something new. Something loud. Loud rock music? Curiosity getting the best of him, Harry turned down a new street, following the music and lights until he reached a very large home with all the windows and doors open. There were kids, about his age, maybe older, all milling around the front yard. He could see even more inside, dancing to the music.

Unsure of what to do, Harry loitered for a moment, lighting another smoke, feeling out of place and lonely.

"Oi, mate!" A voice rang out from someone close by and Harry's head shot up. "Yeah, you. Why aren't you joinin my party?" A slightly older guy was waving at him while yelling, and Harry felt compelled to walk towards him. The shadows cleared from the other guy's face and Harry could tell he was attractive, with kind brown eyes and an excited grin. "So, you party?"

Harry nodded, still confused.

"Right on. M'names Nick. I'm inviting you into my house to get loaded. But, first, what the fuck are your clothes?"

Harry looked down. His battered hand me downs were swarming him as usual. A blush crept over his cheeks and he shrugged.

"Not to worry. I'm feeling generous. Follow me and I'll have you properly outfitted in no time."

Nick grabbed Harry's elbow and led him through the crowds and inside, where it was even more congested with bodies and smoke. Nick grinned over his shoulder at Harry and led him up a flight of stairs, through another door, and deposited him in an enormous bedroom. Nick turned to the walk in closet and left Harry staring bewildered around him. The room was painted black, and trimmed in gold. Even the bed covers were black, but pillowcases shimmered in gold. There were posters of muggle rock stars all over the walls, and a small sitting area with two wing-back chairs and a table made of a mirror.

"What's your name, mate?" Nick called out, throwing a shirt and jeans at Harry, "And what size shoe are you?"

"Um, Harry, Harry Potter," he said, happy as usual that no one knew him in the muggle world. "And a 9.5, I suppose."

"Ai'ight. Let me look around for some that size."

"Are you sure its okay I'm here? You don't even know me. I mean, I'm grateful, and I live just a few blocks away, but, um," Harry trailed off nervously.

"Yeah, o'course. The more the merrier. My parents are gone for the week, like usual, so I thought a rager was in order. Might as well abuse their power and money if they can't sit still for two days. Now, Harry, put on those clothes."

Harry, in spite of his nervousness, grinned at the animated boy. Nick was still rummaging in the closet, so Harry turned and shed his baggy clothes and put on what was handed to him. He was gifted a black, sleeveless tee with "Led Zeppelin" printed across the front, some skinny jeans with zippers at the pockets, and black and gold Vans. The pants were a bit big for him, but Nick threw a gold belt over his shoulder at him.

Harry glanced at the mirror. The shirt exposed the bruises left on his upper arm from Vernon tossing him in his room a few days ago, but Harry felt… confident, for this first time in ages. It felt good to be in clothes that fit, with someone who could maybe be a new friend, muggle or not.

Someone slammed the door open then, making Harry jump. It was a girl with wild bleached hair, facial piercings, and tattoos leading up her arms. She peered at him casually and shrugged.

"Nico, I brought you gifts," she said in a teasing voice.

"My Mav, darling, thank you!" Nick replied dramatically, coming out of the closet with a bong in his hand. "Meet our new best friend, Harry." Harry nodded at Mav, and grinned at him.

"You like marijuana, Harry?" She asked in that same teasing voice.

"Um, yes. I have a little bit if you'd like to share," Harry tentatively said, figuring it was the least he could do.

Nick and Mav started laughing as they walked around to the table; Mav sitting in a chair while Nick took the floor. Nick rummaged around in a drawer connected to the table, and pulled out a massive ziplock bag bursting with weed.

"How about we smoke all of yours, then fill your bag back up with this, ay mate?"

"Fuck yeah," Harry breathed, eyes wide. They laughed again and Nick patted the other chair. Harry tossed him his mint can and Nick immediately began packing the bong. Mav pulled a small bottle of tequila from the bag she had slung over her shoulder and took a long pull from it before offering it to Harry.

"You have to drink for at least 8 seconds or we'll throw you out," she teased. Harry grinned back, enjoying this challenge, and threw back the harsh liquor gladly, enjoying the painful warmth as it traveled through his body.

"Look at you, Potter, I knew you were a good one when I saw you," Nick laughed before taking a huge rip from the bong. "Now smoke this shit."

Harry had not smiled this much in weeks. Nick and him traded alcohol for weed, while Mav rummaged around her bag again.

"Nico, do you love me?"

"Of course," Nick smirked after licking his lips of liquor, "Please tell me you've got white and blue." Harry glanced up from the pull he was taking on the bong to see two very small baggies laid out. He took his hit, coughed a bit, and then peered curiously at the new additions.

"Mav. Mav. Where did you find all this love to share?" Nick exclaimed gleefully. Mav rolled her eyes.

"I found it in your bloody bathroom yesterday, you dolt." They both snickered together for a moment.

"Um, what is it?" Harry asked softly. He waited for them to make fun of him, maybe throw him out. Instead, the two got gleeful looks on their faces.

"You've never had powder? Sugar? White? Yayo? Cocaine?"

Harry shook his head no. Cocaine. Holy shit. That is definitely new. Harry had never seen any hard drugs around Hogwarts, muggle or otherwise.

"What are the blue pills?"

"That, my dear, is Adderall. It's a pharmo for kiddos with ADD and shite. It's also an upper. Coke is the best, but addy does the job too," Mav grinned.

"Line it up for us Mavvy. Give Harry some little lines to start. Don't want to break his heart yet," Nick laughed. Harry wasn't quite sure why Nick wanted this stuff since he was already so hyper. He nervously took another bong rip, coughing a tad after, and traded again with Nick. Tequila was feeling good, but Harry was getting interested in Mav making little lines with a student ID from the pile of white powder she had poured onto the table. There were two very slender ones, presumably for him. Nick pulled out his wallet and began rolling a £100 note tight.

Mav grabbed it from him in an easy familiarity and leaned over, seemingly vacuuming her thick lines right up into her nose. Once finished, she rubbed her finger over the table, gathering the lingering cocaine from her area, and rubbed it into her gums. Shit. Can I do this?

"You next Harry," Mav said, taking the bottle from his hand and placing the bill in replacement. Just do what I did. Close one nostril and snort it up."

Harry did as instructed, his nostrils tingling as the powder plowed through. It took him a minute to hold in a sneeze, then gathered the remaining with his finger, rubbing it into his gums just like Mav did. He handed the note to Nick, and waited for something to happen. He took a few more sips of tequila as Nick finished snorting, a wild grin on his face.

"Ready to rejoin the party?" He asked brightly.

"Let's have a few more rounds with the bong, then go down and get some mixed drinks," Mav replied, her voice a pitch higher and faster than before.

They repacked it, and passed it around the table along with the tequila. Harry started feeling…loose. Not the tense, aching feeling he had been carrying around for months now. He felt light and joyful with these new people. He even felt okay talking to them. Not that he said anything particularly important, but he had barely talked to anyone since summer break began.

"Alrighty, angels, lets go party with the masses, eh?" Nick asked, standing and stretching his long limbs. Mav stood as well, followed by Harry, who felt a bit lightheaded. After all, he'd only had a piece of toast today, followed by liquor and drugs. He fumbled with his cigarette pack and lit one up as he followed the other two back downstairs to the party.

1:48. They were taking a break from the crowd on Nick's back porch. They had danced, smoked, and drank their way through the past two hours. Harry was drinking a large glass of water and smoking another cigarette, while Mav was rolling a joint. Nick was spread out on the floor, staring at the sky, occasionally taking sips from a new bottle of tequila.

"So, Harry, where do you go to school?" Mav asked. She was definitely the most sober, though she had partied just as hard. Harry suspected she was older than him, but hadn't asked.

"Um, private boarding school in Scotland. Scholarship." Shit, that sounded drunk. At least it wasn't the whole truth.

"Right on. When do you leave this shite town?"

"September first. Can't wait."

Nick suddenly stood, excited for some reason. "Guys! Harry needs to join our summer adventure plans!" Mav rolled her eyes. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Nico says plans, but really its just what we always do. Party, skate, get tattoos, make a trip to London, travel to the country for a day and trip, also deal lots of drugs."

"C'mon Harry. Do it!"

"Sure, yeah, mate. I'm up for it. My relatives are arses, but I can usually get away at night anyway." Mav looked up.

"Relatives? Parents?"

Harry blushed for some reason. Most people knew his parents were dead, so he rarely had to say anything. "Yeah, Aunt and Uncle. The Dursleys. Number 4, Privet Drive. Parents died when I was a baby."

"Shite, sorry about that. Well, anyway, we should get a tattoo soon. Be thinking what you want Harry. Make it simple bc I'm probably gonna do it."

Harry nodded at Mav, pulling on his cigarette, thinking of all the tattoos he could get. He had enough people he cared about that were dead to get names all over. But, maybe something simple for the first one. Harry checked his watch, realizing he had four hours before he should start breakfast.

"Nick, is it okay if I shower here before I head back? I have to be up to make breakfast for my uncle at six." Shit, Harry. Why'd you say that? That's weird. Other people aren't slaves for their relatives.

Nick looked at him curiously, but said sure. His eyes, however, trailed to the handprint on his arm. Harry ignored it. The less said, the better.

Mav passed Harry the joint, and he gratefully inhaled, calming his sense of fear about getting back to the Dursley's on time.

The swarms of people had lessened by the time they went back inside, and many that remained were asleep on sofas and chairs. Nick escorted him upstairs and showed him the shower. Harry valiantly attempted to scrub himself awake, but was feeling drowsy after so many hours of drinking. Finally, resigned to a long day ahead, he tilted his head back and let the water beat into his face.