Disclaimer: Well, as we all know, JKR wrote Harry Potter. Last time I checked, those weren't my initials. That means that in no way, shape, or form do I own Harry Potter.

Harry Potter stood leaning on the lamp post at the corner of Privet Drive. It was dark out, and Harry was brooding in the little light offered to him. Head down, he wasn't really doing much of anything except scuffing his foot on the sidewalk every minute or so.

Inside, Harry couldn't really think. No matter how hard he tried his thoughts just rolled around. Everything just got so complicated since last year. His fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry proved to be the worst yet. Terrible events happened pretty much all year, only to end with the worst of all. But Harry didn't want to think about that. He had to dream it every night, why keep reliving it during the day as well? Well, at least while he was awake, which was more and more often as Harry dreaded going to sleep at night, he could try and keep his mind off of disturbing events.

The guilt and the hole in his heart, however, were growing daily. Being with people who ignored him didn't help either. At least in previous years they had given him chores and bothered to make a comment or two at him, even if they were always rude and aimed to be hurtful. After a warning by members of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry's family decided that the best way to avoid getting visits from 'those people' was to ignore the problem, namely, Harry.

This would normally have been alright with Harry, but this year he needed something to take his mind off of past events. He tried everything. Only two weeks into the summer he had already finished his homework for the next year. He had read all of his school books. He thought about maybe reading them again for good measure, but in the end decided that he had enough of that. He couldn't stand to think too much and he was doing entirely too much of it in his opinion.

That was why Harry was outside at the moment. He had to get away from Number Four Privet Drive, if only to go to the end of the street. Maybe he was getting claustrophobic, but he was starting to suffocate if he was in that house for too long. There was only so much a person could take being around people who ignored you, or if forced to, treated you like you didn't deserve to lick the dirt off their shoes.

Harry had promised Dumbledore that he would stay on Privet Drive at all costs that summer unless informed that he was allowed to go anywhere. This was another puzzlement for Harry to think about. He didn't know how he should react and treat Dumbledore. He didn't think that he was angry anymore. But he was hurt that he had put so much trust in a man who was deceiving him.

So, Harry now was still standing on the corner. As far as he could get without someone rushing forward to escort him back. Harry hated it, hated it more than anything else that had happened so far. He wanted to run so much. Just wanted to run as far as he could and keep going and never come back. He wanted to forget the prophecy and how everyone in the wizarding world expected him to defeat Voldemort again. At least they didn't think he was crazy anymore. Although, this thought often annoyed him more than anything.

How did all those people think that they could just switch their minds like that? He was a human being! He didn't want to deal with all this. The public, or at least most of it, spent over a year, as well as various other times, claiming he was insane and how he should be locked up. Then all of the sudden, he ends up being right all along and overnight everyone is trying to get his autograph again. It was disgusting, really, and Harry wanted no part of it.

The more Harry thought, the more he was getting frustrated and hurt. He knew it was a bad idea to think. It had become a sort of nightly ritual for him, though. At least he could breathe a little bit better when he stood next to the lamppost. It didn't really matter all that much, though. He always had to go back to Number Four.

Harry never stood by the post during the day. He had done it once and found himself ready to hex all the stupid muggles who were staring at him with distrust in their eyes. He knew that he shouldn't really blame them, as they thought he was some crazy criminal kid, but it was tiresome. Dudley and his gang were the bad kids in the neighborhood. Hadn't anyone in their area ever noticed that Harry never actually did anything to anybody? How could they not tell that Dudley was the bully who ran around terrorizing younger kids? It was a complete mystery to Harry.

Life in all, though, was getting pretty tiresome and dull around that place.

For the first time in a long while, the mischievous glint came back to Harry Potter's eyes. Well, if he had to have people following him at all times he might as well make the most of it.

With that thought in mind, Harry stepped out of the light of the street lamp and off of Privet Drive. He could already breathe better. Almost immediately three order members leaped out at him to try and take him back to his aunt and uncle's house. Well, he wanted to run. This certainly was his chance.

Harry did run. In fact, for a person who hadn't had that much physical activity in a long while, Harry was very fast. Faster than those order members, for sure. How did Dumbledore plan on defeating the Death Eaters if the order members were out of shape? 'Well, I always wanted to do something to contribute to the cause,' Harry thought nastily, 'Far be it from me to not bring my aide when it is so obviously needed.' Harry began sniggering to himself with that thought.

Briefly, Harry wondered who was on duty that night. Maybe it was Moody. No, Moody wouldn't be able to run even as fast as they were going. Perhaps Tonks? No, she knew Harry pretty well and He was sure she would have found some way to stop him by now. Besides, if it was her he might feel remotely bad about putting her through this. Well, it wasn't like it mattered all that much anyways.

Especially because as Harry turned around to try and get a good view of his pursuers, he wasn't looking where he was going. That was when he slammed into what felt like a wall, albeit somewhat softer than bricks. Groaning as he fell onto his back. He looked up and suddenly wished that he had blacked out from his fall. But of course, his luck never held up, or was never useful when Harry wanted it to be. And at that moment, Harry was definitely thinking as hard as he could; cursing his luck, for standing in front of him with a furious look on his face was none other than he least favorite professor, Severus Snape.


Severus Snape glared down at the foolish child on the ground before him, who was darting his eyes around like a rabbit caught by a hunter. What in Merlin's name was the boy thinking? He had been coming to change the guard when he happened on this lovely scene. He knew that Dumbledore had some fools working for him, but this was ridiculous.

Angrily, he plucked the boy up from his position by the front of his shirt. "Explain." He said tersely and in one of his most dangerous voices. He was in no mood to deal with the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Him at the moment. He watched grimly as Potter searched for some weak excuse.

"Er – I thought they were Death Eaters?" Potter muttered. Severus wasn't a spy for nothing. The child was lying and quite obviously, as well. It wasn't even a plausible excuse. Plus, he was avoiding eye contact. A sure sign of a lie, he should know. Why did he always have to be the one to deal with spoiled children?

Severus forgot all of this, though, when he saw the boy's pursuers turn the corner. For order members, they were uncommonly slow. "Come, Potter, let us go meet your 'Death Eaters'." He said, noticing that the boy grew nervous at these words, 'I wonder why?' Severus told himself, sarcastically. Practically dragging the boy along, he met the order members in the middle of the street.

"Professor Lupin? Mr. Wealey? PERCY?!? You're guarding me?" The boy had the nerve to practically shout out to the entire world to know.

"Potter, do practice some of the common sense that I am told you have floating around in there somewhere and be quiet." Severus told the impertinent little brat, he obviously still hadn't changed over the years.

All five of them began walking down the street quickly; three relieved while the other two were annoyed. They kept walking until they had reached a small house that Harry was sickened that it smelt of cabbages. Entering Arabella Figg's house, Harry was seated in a moldy old lounge chair while the others clambered to find seating arrangements.

"Harry, why did you start running from us?" the werewolf asked the boy sickeningly nicely.

"Won't Mrs. Figg be worried that there are a bunch of people in her house at all hours of the night?" the boy replied. Severus snorted. The boy certainly knew how to slyly change the subject. If they all were monkeys with below average IQ, that is, Potter might have possibly had a chance that they would not notice.

"She's used to order members popping in at all hours. Now, why were you running, Harry?" Mr. Weasley replied hurriedly. At least he wasn't coddling the boy like Lupin was, but still. They should just perform a truth spell and be done with it, everything would be so much easier that way.

Potter squirmed in his seat for a while before giving everyone the same lame excuse that he gave the professor. What was even worse was that the others immediately turned sympathetic and immediately apologized. How naïve could they all be? Potter obviously did not think that they were Death Eaters. He didn't look even remotely panic when he had literally ran into him. The child obviously thought to have a bit of fun and give his guards a little run.

Severus sighed. Why was he always the one who had to deal with these sort of things? Stupid Gryffindors.


Harry couldn't believe his luck. They had actually bought his story that he thought they were Death Eaters. Maybe he should try to play the sympathy card more often. No, he didn't really want people to pity him for the rest of his life, but he did admit that it got him out of a tight spot. Not everyone believed him. He could tell from the beginning that Snape didn't believe a word he said. 'What a surprise,' Harry thought, barely forcing himself not to roll his eyes.

Now they were babbling on around him about how Ron and Hermione missed him and how Quidditch Finals were coming around and England wasn't in the running because of their new players who ended up being horrible. Harry only half listened.

"And we'll be coming to take you from the Dursley's in three days. You can spend your birthday with us, Harry." Remus told him. Harry immediately perked up.

"Great, is Hermione going to the Burrow, too?" Harry wondered. He loved going to the Burrow to see Ron and his family. It was always fun and the days flew by.

"Harry," Mr. Weasley began gently, "you aren't going to stay at the Burrow. We're taking you to headquarters."

"He – Headquarters? Did you find a new place for it?" Harry asked, but he knew the answer without them having to tell him.

"Headquarters is the same place as always." Remus told him kindly.

Harry's blood ran cold and he had gone pale. "No."

"No?" Percy asked. He thought Harry would love to leave his relatives.

"No. I am not going. I guess I'll see you on September 1st at Platform 9 ¾ , I'd rather stay with the Dursley's, thank you." With that, Harry stood up and left Mrs. Figg's house. He heard the others begin to follow him, but he didn't care any more. How could they just expect him to be able to go back to Grimmauld Place? He wouldn't. There was no way that they could make him, even if it did pain him that he would be subjecting himself to another month of the Dursley's. He would rather live with the Dursley's permanently than go back to that place.


A/N: Well, I hope you all enjoyed this. Please review and tell me what you think about it so far!