Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world. No, I don't own Harry Potter or any other characters, surprising though that may be. JK Rowling owns the characters – I'm simply expanding on what she provides.

Summary: Harry is given a diary by Dumbledore and when he writes in it he receives an unexpected response. His correspondent learns of Harry's less than suitable living conditions and an unlikely bond is formed. Abused!Harry, DrugAddict!Harry.

Warnings: Swearing, drug abuse, references to child abuse, references to sexual abuse/rape in later chapters.

June 23rd - 11.06pm

Leave me dreaming on the bed, see you right back here tomorrow, for the next round.
Keep this scene inside your head, as the bruises turn to yellow, and the swelling goes down.
And if you're ever around, in the city or the suburbs, of this town,
Be sure to come around, I'll be wallowing in sorrow, wearing a frown, like Pierrot the clown.

Thanks for the diary Dumbledore. You're a champ. It's just what I need. It's like Tom Riddle all over again. A sword would be of more use to me now though. Or better yet, a ticket out of this hell-hole. But my welfare doesn't mean shit to you, does it? As long as I am around to be a pawn in your slightly deadly game of chess, then who cares what happens in the meantime, right? Who cares what needs to be sacrificed? Don't worry Dumbles, I have every intention of killing off old Voldie for you, but we both know I'll fall with him. My life doesn't matter though. All for the greater good, of course.

Saw you crashing 'round the bay, never seen you act so shallow, or look so brown.
Remembered all the things you'd say, how your promises rang hollow, as you threw me to the ground.
And if you're ever around, in the backstreets or the alleys, of this town,
Be sure to come around, I'll be wallowing in pity, wearing a frown, like Pierrot the clown.

What a joke. I'm sick of this shit. So much for blood-fucking-protection. Fuck you and your so-called 'good intentions' Dumbledore. Your blood protection won't mean shit when my own family kills me. Will it? I know that you know what goes on in this god-forsaken place. I know that you know what I go through. I know that you know what he does to me. It builds character, right? Makes me strong enough to kill. I don't want to kill. But it's okay, I've come to terms with it. I have to kill. Can't wait.

When I dream, I dream if your lips,
When I dream, I dream of your kiss,
When I dream, I dream of your fists,
Your fists,
Your fists...

You should send one of your aurors to check on me now, Dumbledore. Preferably one trained extensively in the healing arts. Poppy would even be okay. Or perhaps Moody – at least he would be more than willing to knock off my loving family. Not Remus though, if he found out what happens here… Gods, he would hate me. He can never know how filthy and broken and weak I really am. He has enough to deal with, anyway. He doesn't need another burden. Send Tonks, or Kingsley. Hell, I'd even welcome Snape right now! I'm sick of this humiliation and violation every fucking day. It's getting tiresome.

Leave me bleeding on the bed, see you right back here tomorrow, for the next round.
Keep this scene inside your head, as the bruises turn to yellow, and the swelling goes down.

This muggle-drug is the only thing keeping me sane right now, and my sanity is probably questionable. I don't know what I'll do at the end of the summer. How will I ever cope at Hogwarts without shooting up every few hours? It's only been about half a day since my last hit and I'm already craving the high. I'll never sleep tonight without another hit. Unless I'm unconscious by nightfall - which is actually quite probable - I'm sure you could guess why Dumbles. Merlin, I hate this place. Get me out.

And if you're ever around, in the city or the suburbs, of this town,
Be sure to come around, I'll be wallowing in sorrow, wearing a frown, like Pierrot the clown,
Pierrot the clown,
Pierrot the clown,
Pierrot the clown,
Pierrot the clown.

June 24th – 10.12am

I should have been much more suspicious when the headmaster gave me this diary; he's always meddling in the affairs of others. Always thinking he's doing the right thing. Had I known that this was, in fact, a two-way diary linked to none other than our resident Golden Boy, I'm sure it would have been thrown back in his face without delay. Needless to say I had never written in here before now. In fact, I'd forgotten he had even gifted it to me. So to see it chiming and flashing on my desk was rather absurd.

Not a bad entry, Mr. Potter. However, if you tone down the angst and vulgarity you may be surprised with the revelation that you can still get your point across. And perhaps more eloquently than you would believe. But then again, perhaps I am holding you in much higher revere than you may amount to. You never were particularly articulate. Prove me wrong, Mr. Potter.

June 24th – 6.47pm

I am as surprised as you are to see my new diary (also courtesy of headmaster Dumbledore) chiming and flashing on my bedside table. Good thing I got to it before anyone else noticed. I don't even want to imagine the consequences if that had happened. It find it rather perplexing, however, that you were so quickly able to assess identity and conclude that I am, indeed, Harry Potter, while I am still at a loss as to your identity. As you can see, I have stepped up the language in order to prove you wrong, however keeping this up for an entire entry could be tiring. I will do my best. I've never been one to back down from a challenge.

Taking into account the implications of my diary being not so private, I will refrain from writing my innermost thoughts and feelings onto these pages as I had previously done. If your chosen title for me – 'Golden Boy' – is anything to go by, I believe you are not a person I am particularly close with. If I guess who you are, will you inform me? Or will you continue this ruse regardless? I do have a few suspicions, but I'll bide my time.

By the way, the Tom Riddle mention in the previous entry? That was purely coincidental – I did not actually expect this to be a two-way diary! Knowing what happened to Ginny at Hogwarts, I should be more careful. However, I have found that I really don't care anymore. Besides, I doubt the aforementioned headmaster would give me a diary linked to none other than his archenemy, unless he was unaware of such a thing. I may just be a pawn in this war, but I'm currently his most powerful pawn – he wouldn't let Voldie feed off me. He's too careful for that.

Your own entry was rather disappointing in length – only a few lines. Surely you could write a little more than that? But then again, you weren't planning to write anything at all, so I suppose it was more than expected. How is my level of vocabulary? Up to your high standards? I have a few questions on your identity, as you have me rather intrigued. I do not expect that you will answer them all, but a few clues would be appreciated:

1. What is you gender? I would guess male.
2. Do you go to my school, Hogwarts? I assume you do, due to your chosen title for Albus Dumbledore.
3. How do you take you coffee? My guess is black with no sugar.
4. Are you afraid to say the dark lord's name out loud? I doubt this one.
5. Who are you? Wishful thinking that you may put me out of my misery?

For now, I bid you farewell. I have no idea when my next reply shall be as I am sure I will be tied up very shortly. Please do reply to me though; anything to keep my mind off of the present. Only 10 weeks until school is back…

June 24th - 10.20pm

Mr. Potter, although there was a vast improvement evident in your vocabulary, it still requires much improvement. For example, your word choice is poor, at best. 'Nemesis' is a far better word than 'enemy' in this instance, and 'considering' would be more effective than 'taking into account'. It is, however, more than I had hoped for from the likes of you.

I will attempt to decipher the full meaning of the rest of your jumbled mess in order to answer your questions.

If you do happen to, by chance, deduce my identity then I may, perhaps, inform you of such a fact. Also, as much as the headmaster is firmly entrenched on the side of the light, you should never trust anyone. Don't assume that the headmaster wouldn't give you a diary linked to the Dark Lord simply because he's fighting on the same side of the war as you. I'm sure he has implemented plans that appear far dafter than that in the naïve belief that he's doing what is best. For fear of sounding like Alastor, you must always be cautious – constant vigilance. As to the length of my entry; I shall write as much as I see fit, do not question me on it – you should consider yourself lucky that I'm even writing at all.

1. You are correct in your assumption.
2. I suppose you could say that.
3. I prefer tea to coffee; however, on occasion I take it white with no sugar.
4. Fear does not factor into the equation.
5. Do not waste your ink.

As I conceded to answer your questions, I now require that you answer a few of mine. As I was, you may be vague about your answers if you do not wish to answer them, however the depth of my answers will reflect your own. If you provide me with ample information, I may return the favour in a similar form. Unlike you, I will not speculate on the answers, I will simply wait for your response.

1. Why do you take muggle drugs?
2. Do you think you will triumph over the dark lord?
3. Excluding quidditch injuries, have you ever broken a bone?

That is all for now; three simple questions. If you lie in your answers, Mr. Potter, I will simply lie in my own.

June 25th – 3.58am

Interesting answers, very interesting. I am quite sure that I have narrowed down my suspicions on your identity to a select few, however, I am still unsure. Firstly, as per your request, I shall answer your questions.

1. Because I can, and because it feels good.
2. I do not see how a teenager can win against a deranged, power-hungry psycho.
3. Yes.

Your questions were slightly odd. Why would you care about broken bones? Maybe not care, I guess, but why would you ask? And nobody has ever asked me if I think I will win, they just expect me to. I don't have a choice. I have to win. The first question was rather predictable though, I can entirely understand that a wizard would not understand my need for drugs. I wouldn't expect you to understand it, whether I explain or not.

If you can't read my writing, it's because I'm shaking really badly right now. I ran out of heroin yesterday and won't be able to get any more until later today, at least. I last shot up at about lunchtime, so it's been almost sixteen hours. Can't believe how quickly things go downhill now that I'm addicted. My stomach is cramping and my bones hurt. FUCCCKKK. This sucks. I can't write like this. I have three quick questions before I curl up and try not to think about this fucking drug.

1. What house are you in at school?
2. Have you ever done muggle drugs?
3. What is your opinion of half-bloods?

Merlin, this is worse than hell. What the fuck am I going to do when I have to go back to Hogwarts? I won't survive. That is, if I survive the summer in this house anyway. Laughable, isn't it, that I can beat the darkest wizard of the age multiple times, but may not be able to survive a summer at home with my family? Fuck I need a shot. I need something, anything, I'm so cold, but I'm burning up. This is worse than the cruciatus curse. Fucking hell.

A/N: The lyrics in the first entry are being written by Harry into the diary. He is using this song to express his feelings. The song is not mine; it is called 'Pierrot The Clown' and is by the band Placebo. I do not own any of the lyrics written into my fan fiction.