Nothing belongs to me. Except a large student debt. Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I am merely borrowing her toys. I will return them with little damage.

Chapter 1 Summer after 4th year

Harry walked slowly down Privet Drive. He had once again been kicked out of the house for trying to hear the news. Uncle Vernon seemed to take his new interest in current events as a personal insult. For the past week, since he got back from Hogwarts, it had been a battle to borrow the paper or sit in the living room at 7.

Harry was just attempting to figure out what Voldemort was up to. Since his friends were of no use. Harry scowled and stopped. He thought he heard someone behind him. He waited, no, he didn't hear any more steps. He could have sworn someone was there. Now the hair on the back of his neck was standing up.

Death Eaters. Harry took off at a run, down an alley, through a park. He spent 10 minutes jogging around in circle though areas of Little Whinging that only a native would know. Eventually he went into a bush in the play park where he had hid from Dudley years ago. Who knew that Harry hunting would come in handy. After a couple minutes of silence he heard a loud crack. Like a car backfiring, or a capgun. Or like the sound Dobby made in the hospital wing in second year.

So, someone was following me. And only one noise so only one person. Why didn't he just curse me? Or grab me before I realized he was there? Maybe it wasn't a Death Eater. Could just be come nutter who wanted to get a look at the Boy-Who-Lived. Or someone from the ministry trying to get dirt on me. Maybe Dumbledore is having someone check on me to make sure I am dealing with Cedric's death. No, don't think about Cedric. Whatever, whomever it was is gone now.

Harry crawled out of the bush. He noticed a girl watching him. She looked just a bit older than him, maybe 16 or so. Her hair was dark brown and straight. She smirked at him.

"Nice hiding spot. Cops after you?"

"Err, Yeah. Just can't stay out of trouble." Harry was thinking fast for a decent explanation. This one might not hold.

"I thought school was supposed to fix that. St Brutus's has a high 'cure' rate."

"Do I know you?" Harry wondered just how many people had his aunt and uncle told that stupid story to.

"We went to primary together. You sat in front on me in 3rd grade." The girl explained. "You stopped your cousin from putting gum in my hair once. I'm Sheila Hamilton."

"Right, I remember now." Harry had forgotten about most of the people he went to school with. Dudley kept anyone from being his friend. He only really remembered her because she was one of the few kids that had been held back a year in school.

"Why are the cops after you?"

Thinking fast. "Not really sure, if its not one thing, its something else."Dodge the questions, try not to lie.

"I like a bad boy. Got so much trouble you don't know what to do with it." Sheila smiled widely at Harry. He wasn't really sure if she was believing him or not. "Where is your school anyway?"

"Scotland."No lie there.

"Is it fun?

Harry said, "Not as much fun as you'd think." He got an odd look at this. Really, who expects a school for criminals to be fun.

They talked for awhile. Harry missed his friends less when he was talking to someone who wasn't afraid of him. She didn't seem concerned that he was widely known as a criminal. Eventually he noticed it was getting dark so he said he had to get home. He was shocked when Sheila gave him a kiss on the cheek and a warm smile before she turned and left.

Dudley was already home when he got there and that night he got in trouble for being out so late. Seems Dudley's arrival was the standard he would be measured by. I'll keep that in mind.

The days passed slowly. More letters arrived from his friends Harry could tell that Ron and Hermione were in the same place now. He continued to see Sheila. They sat in the park together in the evening. A couple of times she invited him over to her house when her parents were gone. On these occasions they did a lot more than kiss. Sheila was very sure of what she wanted and apparently she wanted him.

Harry had no idea what he wanted. She was pretty, yes. And he was a fourteen, soon to be fifteen, year old boy. His body definitely knew what it wanted. But his mind was so numb, with everything that had happened to him the last month, that he just didn't know. So Harry went along with it.

On his birthday, Sheila decided to give him a present. Her parents were out of town for the weekend and they were going to go all the way. Harry, true to form did not protest. But in the aftermath, his head finally started working.

Why did I just do that?

I don't love her. I'm not even sure I like her.

I just wanted to feel.

Now I'm feeling alright. I am feeling disgusted with myself.

I used her.

She wanted to be used.

That doesn't make it right.

This wasn't her first time.

That doesn't make it right either.

Why did I do that?

Harry made an excuse and left. The Dursleys were already in bed. At least he didn't have to explain to them.

Now that his brain had started to function it wouldn't stop. He felt so guilty for the way he let himself act. It didn't matter that Sheila started it and led him by the nose all the way. He wanted to love the person he was with.

Harry spent the next couple of days avoiding Sheila. He quit going to the park and instead hid under the windowsill, in the Dursley's flowerbeds to try and hear the 7'oclock news.

In truth, he was almost relieved when he was locked in his room after the dementor attack. Now he didn't have to work so hard to avoid Sheila.