Disclaimer: None of this is mine. I take no credit for the following.

Well, guys, I'm back. In a different story. If you've been reading "To Wish one Could Forget", well, there's kind of a problem there. You see, I have serious writer's block, and cannot come up with an ending to save my life. Then, I had this great brain storm for another story. So, I figured to start it before I forgot, which sometimes happens. So, tell me what you think. I look forward to reviews on this one. It's like a lot of other stories you might have read, but it's mine, so it will be original. (Cross your fingers).

Warning: Graphic scenes of abuse. No slash.

Here goes nothing.

Chapter 1: Sadly Mistaken

They thought he was safe there. There was no reason to believe he wasn't, after all. His aunt, a blood relative of Lily Evans Potter, was there, making a barrier that Voldemort and his loyal followers should never have gotten through. Shouldn't have, but did. That is where the mistake was. Dumbledore overlooked, as impossible as that may seem, one very important factor. And that was the undoing of the whole thing.

But let's begin at the beginning, shall we...?

For the first two or three days upon his arrival home, no one wanted to talk to him. He was glad, though, since he really didn't feel like talking to anyone anyway. He avoided his relatives constantly, not even eating. He wasn't hungry, anyway. There was no use eating if you weren't hungry, in his mind. Peace and quiet never seem to last for the person who appreciates it the most, though. And in Harry's case, it didn't either. It started on his sixth day back from Hogwarts. He would never forget, because he had just sent his second letter to the Order since his seeing them at the platform.

Vernon came thundering into his room just as Hedwig flew out. "You!!!" Vernon barked. "It's all your fault!"

"What's my fault this time?" Harry asked more calmly than he felt. He could feel anger radiating from Vernon Dursley. It was suffocating. Still, he couldn't show any fear, just as you couldn't show Voldemort fear.

"My job!! I'm going to lose it, and it's all your fault. I know that your kind can curse us whenever you wish! But I'll teach you!" Vernon took his right hand out of a huge pocket, and Harry saw that there was a long belt in his hand. But what was worse was what had been added to that belt. On the end of it were small shards of metal that could tear into flesh. Harry stood up from his desk quickly and backed up. He reached into his back pocket for his wand, and his eyes grew wide when he realized it wasn't there. It was on his bed, behind Vernon. Vernon's eyes cut to the bed, where he saw the wand lying. Thinking quicker than Harry could act, he snatched up the wand and threw it out of the window. Harry gasped when he realized his only defense was gone. He shrank away from the towering uncle, who was menacing enough without the belt in his hand. No one could be prepared for what happened. He had known it would be painful, but just not to what extreme. Vernon didn't leave until long after Harry had fallen unconscious.

That was when it happened. That was when things got out of hand. The Dursleys left the house when he was still very much unconscious. His magic couldn't keep the wards up alone; not with him being so weak. With Petunia gone, the wards fell.

Miles away, Voldemort's eyes began to flash the terrible red. He smiled softly to himself, and summoned a few of his deatheaters in a matter of seconds, telling them of his plan. The whole time, he was grinning like a fool. The Deatheaters nodded, and quickly left. There was no time to spare. It wouldn't be long before the wards were up again, knowing Dumbledore, and how he kept close watch over such things.

When they arrived at the house, it appeared deserted. There was no ward to hold them back. They simply blew the front door open. Fletcher was supposed to be watching again. But he had been drunk the night before, and the potion he had taken for the dreadful hangover had caused him to grow sleepy. Harry was left without defense. He was unconscious, and his guard might as well have been.

By the time the Order found, it was beyond too late. There was no hope to stop it. Dumbledore realized that the wards had fallen only because he had been alerted by Mrs. Figg. She had seen the house collapse into ruins, and the Dark Mark fly into the air. She had flooed Dumbledore. It was the last thing she would ever do. A deatheater knew where she lived, and had gone after her. They destroyed her, as well as her house. Many of the cats were inside when the building collapsed on the wide-eyed body of Mrs. Figg. Some escaped though, and were left wandering in the streets. Muggles would later say that five men dressed in completely black and wearing masks just disappeared in the middle of the street, carrying a figure that looked to be dead with them.

Dumbledore knew that they only had a matter of time before Harry would be dead. He had no choice. There was only one thing that could be done. "Severus," he started, sounding more tired than anyone had ever heard him. "Please, I know I have put you in Jeopardy so many times. But if we lose him, we lose the war. He needs to be saved. You are the only one who can."

Snape didn't meet the eyes of the wizened old wizard. He knew what would happen if he failed. He knew of the torture that he would be given; a traitor to the Dark Lord. Not a very safe title. Still, he nodded. He knew what lie at stake.

"Bide him time, and maybe we can help. Only rescue him when it is safe. It will do you no good if you get caught. You are our only hope of ever seeing Harry alive again."

"I understand," Snape said.

Dumbledore closed his eyes and a tear fell. "I was so wrong. I was sadly mistaken.

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Tell me what you think. Hope you like it so far.