Hello all! I decided to write this Harry Potter fanfiction. I hope you like it and I always love reviews. I need a beta, if anyone wants to email me about the job. This is my first Harry Potter fic. Oh, the italics are Harry's thoughts and the italics with stars on the outside are articles in the Daily Prophet.

Story Summary: When Snape's son comes to Hogwarts, Harry discovers secrets about his Potions Master that he never imagined and Snape learns a few things about Harry as well. Or at least that's what it's going to be about, it may be a little hard to tell now.

Warnings: This fic is rated PG-13 for now and I will try to keep it that way, although it could go to R. If anyone thinks at any point that this fic should be rated R, then I would like it if you could inform me. I don't want to remove this. This fic will contain cutting, violence, mild language, mention (not description) of child abuse, incest and rape. You should also know that there is the slight possibility that it will contain slash, very far in the future. It's a very slight chance at this point, I don't think that it will happen, but I haven't ruled it out. This fic contains spoilers for books 1-5. This chapter contains cutting, violence, child abuse and maybe some language (I can't really remember).

Disclaimer: I did not invent Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling did. All credit to her, she's a genius. And I'm sure there are all kinds of people who have the rights to Harry Potter, but I really have no idea who they are. Ladeedaa. Please don't sue me.

Chapter 1: What I Deserve

Harry Potter sat on his bed in his room at Number Four Privet drive and frowned down at the newspaper in his lap. He was truly grateful that his aunt, uncle and cousin had went to lounge about at a friend's pool for the day, leaving Harry to read his newspaper in relative peace. He had fully expected to be locked in his room when the Dursleys announced that they were going out, but instead, his Aunt Petunia had given him a long list of chores to complete commenting viciously that it would be a shame to waste such a lovely summer day doing housework.

Harry certainly felt less than sunny as read today's headline in the Daily Prophet.

Another Death Eater Raid Leaves 2 Dead

The home of Richard Summers, 36- a well-respected muggleborn wizard and his wife, Gina Summers, 35- also a muggleborn, was targeted last night in what is believed to be yet another Death Eater raid. Mrs. Summers and her 3-year-old son Bryon were both killed. Mr. Summers was not at his home at the time having gone to pick up their 8-year-old daughter, Eliza from a friend's house.

Harry stopped reading. "Great," he thought dully. "Two more deaths because of Voldemort. Because I couldn't stop Voldemort."

Harry couldn't bring himself to read all the grisly details of the Summers' murder. He knew what they would be anyway. He had read the same story over half a dozen times since the beginning of the summer. Always the same story, only the names were different. Some poor muggle or muggleborn was tortured, raped, killed by the Death Eaters, the Dark Mark glittering in the sky above. There would be few if any clues as to the identities of the ones responsible. Apparently Voldemort's lackeys were rather good at covering their tracks.

"How could I have wanted news of Voldemort last summer?" Harry had assumed that with news would come action, that they could find out who those Death Eater's were and that then someone– the Ministry, Dumbledore, someone, would be able to take care of Voldemort. "But I'm the only one who can take care of Voldemort," Harry thought bitterly, "a bloody teenager. A silly little boy who loves to play hero. If I were doing my job then that woman and her son wouldn't have died last night."

Harry breathed deeply and turned the paper over to search for any other stories that might be related to Voldemort. One caught his eye immediately.

Lucius Malfoy Escapes From Azkaban

Lucius Malfoy, 41 escaped from Azkaban prison on Friday. Malfoy, who was awaiting trial on various charges, including being a Death Eater, was widely reported to have a number of contacts in wizarding governments throughout Europe. It is believed that one of these contacts helped him escape the infamously well guarded prison. Malfoy is said to be highly dangerous and should not be approached under any circumstances.

Harry stopped. "Well happy birthday to me," he thought bitterly. "Two more deaths that only I could have prevented and Voldemort gets his most sadistic servant back. Wonderful way to turn sixteen." Harry put down his paper and looked down at his arms which were covered by the sleeves of his red turtleneck even in late July. He slowly rolled back his left sleeve and looked at a forearm riddled with cuts half in horror, half in longing.

Should he do it again? Would the physical pain make this horrible, dull pain in his heart go away? It had worked the other times, at least somewhat, but it was never enough. Harry always needed more, needed to cut again. "No! I won't! I don't need it. I'm stronger than this."

Harry blinked away tears and looked determinedly back down at the paper. He skimmed through the rest of the article about Malfoy until he came almost to the end. "The jailbreak is only the second since Azkaban prison was opened in 1970, the first being the escape of the infamous murderer Sirius Black who is still at large," Harry read to himself.


Harry flung the paper away from him. Sirius. That was the worst thing. That was what kept Harry from sleeping at night. Not only was his inability to do his to do his job costing a couple of people their lives nearly every week, but he was directly responsible for the death of the one person who had every tried to be a parent to him.

He had tried blaming Dumbledore– and indeed, some of the blame probably rested with the old coot. "If I had known all the facts..." Harry still held a lot of anger toward the headmaster whom he had once considered infallible, invincible, and completely trustworthy. He had even tried blaming Snape. After all, Snape had goaded Sirius mercilessly. But when it came right down to it, the person that Harry really blamed for his godfather's death was himself. Harry Potter.

"I'm the one who has to have a stupid scar on my forehead and a bloody link to Voldemort. I'm the one who thought that Occlumency wasn't worth my time. I'm the one who had so much confidence in my own abilities that I believed my visions to be truth. I'm the one who wanted to play hero, just like always. I'm the one who didn't try other ways of contacting Sirius. I'm the one that Sirius came after. Me. It's all my fault. I'm pathetic. Useless. A freak. I don't deserve to go to Hogwarts. I don't deserve to have a normal life or to be around normal people. Anyone who bothers to care about a freak like me will just end up dead like Sirius and my parents. Uncle Vernon is right about me."

By now Harry had worked himself into tears and was rocking slowly back and forth. "Oh God, make it stop! When will this all just go away?" Harry needed relief, release. Needed to feel the cool blade of his razor cutting into his flesh. Needed to see the rivulets of blood trickling down his arm or leg. Harry lifted himself up off the bed and stumbled over to his trunk. He lifted the lid and went for where he knew his razor was hidden, wedged between his school books. He pulled the razor out and stared at it with an expression of deep longing.

Four hours later Harry was slumped on his bed gently touching his freshly cleaned cuts. He was okay now, well sort of, he just felt very tired and empty. He glanced back down at his arm. What would people think if they knew that the Boy-Who-Lived was into self-mutilation? Harry sneered. "I'd love to see the look on Dumbledore's face."

But then Harry frowned slightly. What would Ron and Hermione say? His friends wouldn't understand, that much he was sure of. They would probably be horrified and then worried and they would probably try to tiptoe around his feelings, something they had been doing a lot of lately. Hermione might tell a teacher and Ron would just be totally confused. Would they think that he was suicidal? Harry had never really considered suicide, after all, he couldn't save the world if he was dead. But he knew that people who cut themselves often are suicidal, and he knew that if Ron and Hermione knew that they would both probably jump to that conclusion. "I'll just have to make sure that they don't find out then."

Harry was torn from his thoughts by the sound of loud footsteps in the hallway. "Brilliant, the great walrus is back." He hastily rolled down his sleeve before Uncle Vernon flung the door open.

"Boy, have you been fiddling around up here all day when your aunt expressly left you a list of chores to do?"

"Yes, I guess that I have," Harry snapped back. Vernon moved closer threateningly. "You remember that I'll be writing to my "friends" again tomorrow, right Uncle Vernon?"

Vernon paled visibly, but held his ground. "And I suppose that we're not even allowed to give you chores now are we?" Well I wouldn't expect your kind to know the value of hard work, but as long as you're living under our roof, boy, you will earn your keep. I won't be told how to run my own house, you ungrateful brat!"

Harry flushed and clenched his fist.

"You're just like your freak parents. Your father was a drunk and a womanizer, always running about with a different woman, he was. Served your mother right though"

"WHAT!" Harry jumped up.

"You heard me boy," said Vernon with a satisfied look on his face.

"You're lying!" But there was less conviction in Harry's voice than there would have been at this time last year. Harry wasn't sure what to think of his father after witnessing him bully Snape in the pensieve last year. What if Vernon was telling the truth?


Vernon's face was very close to Harry's , but he almost immediately drew back in alarm. The lights in the room were flickering, a sure sign that Harry's magic was about to get out of control, as Vernon knew from experience.

"No! I can't let this happen again! Another episode of underage magic and I'll be expelled for sure." Harry slowly forced his magic back inside him. Uncle Vernon relaxed somewhat.

Harry still hadn't mastered his anger though. "I may not be able to use magic, but I am going to kill Vernon Dursley!" Harry threw a punch at his uncle, smiling in satisfaction as his fist connected with Vernon's nose. Before Vernon had a chance to recover, Harry lunged at him. Vernon Dursley, however, outweighed Harry by a good 250 pounds and was no shoddy fighter. Once he collected himself, he was able to knock Harry to the ground easily and kicked him in the ribs a few times for good measure.

"You little animal!" Aunt Petunia shrieked from the doorway. The noise had drawn her and Dudley to Harry's room. "Are you alright Vernon?"

"Fine dear, the little freak just up and attacked me." Uncle Vernon's eyes narrowed. "Boy, I think that I'll be writing to those "friends" of yours myself. I've had you endanger my family quite enough."

Teaser: Chapter 2

Harry blinked. "What? So you mean the protective bonds was reinforced two weeks ago and Dumbledore was just going to leave me here anyway? You were all just going to leave me here anyway?"

Lupin sighed. "Harry, it's complicated. The bond does become stronger the longer you stay. And I'm sure that Dumbledore wants you to get along with your only family..."

"I'll never get along with them Remus!"

Okay, I know that the whole Harry cuts himself, Snape helps him thing has been done quite a bit. I just wanted to let you know that it's not going to be the main focus of this story. It'll be a part, yes, but there will be a lot more going on.