DISCLAIMER: Let it be known that I do NOT own Harry Potter or Queer as Folk.

A/N: This story is dedicated to the ever-wonderful Otaku (undiagnosedEpIdEmIcXXotaku) for betaing my stories :D

Chapter One: Death Eaters at Privet Drive

Harry yelped in pain when the blinding blue spell hit him on his upper right shoulder. He grimaced, curling his lips with his effort to remain standing as he shot off spell after spell at the mass of black robed Death Eaters currently encircling him. The fact that he was breaking the wizarding secrecy act by using magic in plain view of muggles was no longer a problematic thought in his head. What with at least twenty Death Eaters throwing spells at him fully intent on being the one to bring about his premature death, the only thing he was thinking about was how he could get away from them alive and how many he could bring down before he was given a chance to run for it.

The Death Eaters had apparated in small groups while he was weeding the Dursley's yard and he had had his wmp3 (the wizarding version of the mp3) on full blast, effectively catching him off guard. He'd been stunned and gagged and carted inside the Dursley's house in record time. Voldemort's lackeys then began to methodically raid the muggle house; cutting, tearing, burning, and stomping everything in their line of sight as they searched for Harry's family, leaving Harry feeling eternally grateful that they left to visit Aunt Marge for the day. Harry had been left to clean the house as Marge had refused to allow, 'that freakish delinquent inside her.' He may positively hate the Dursley's for everything they had put him through but he didn't want them killed and especially not because of him.

When they found that the house was empty and Harry was its only occupant they had began to curse and torture the raven-haired hero close to the breaking point. They taunted him, saying that they'd found out about the blood wards on the house and found a way around it. If Harry didn't view the Dursley's place as a home then the various wards on the house would be void. The Death Eaters then laughed at his stubbornness to not give up his effort of showing them how much they hurt him. The leader of the Death Eaters told him that he should give up now as they'd already gotten rid of the spells created to alert the Ministry that he was in trouble and the Order of Phoenix member who was on guard.

When they got fed up with his stubbornness they brought out Hedwig, his ever-loyal familiar and first true friend, and began to ruthlessly kill her. He had slackened in his magical hold.

Hearing her screech in unbearable pain and watching as her beautiful plumage of snow white feathers become tainted with a sickening course of red, he shook in anger. The tears that he always forced back took forefront and cascaded down his face. Her feathers, her beautiful feathers…how many days did I spend just stroking those beautiful feathers? How many days after Sirius' death did I only spend with Hedwig? And they dare to touch her? To hurt her?

What little control he had had snapped; his magic that had always fed off his emotions roared in fury at his agony. The magical bind that the Death Eater had put him under broke. Harry rushed to his feet, his magic whipping through the room in dark, angry waves; upturning furniture, sending Death Eaters crashing into walls, shattering the few unbroken windows, and causing the wood floor to splinter in jagged stripes.

The Death Eaters quickly regained their bearings and the duel began leaving Harry where we first came in, outside in the middle of Privet Drive, surrounded by enraged Death Eaters all wanting his death. His magic with his highly emotional state reacted to his every need and thought.

He took a shaky breath as he realized that he wasn't going to last much longer in his current state. His entire right side was cut open from the blasting hexes, he had a nasty gash running from his left eye to his right cheek that was unpleasantly running into his left eye, slightly blinding him, and on top of everything he'd already been crucioed twice.
So, it shouldn't be a big surprise that he was blinking back the blackness that threatened to overtake him. He didn't want to give up just yet, as he knew that if he did the Death Eaters would have their fun with the muggles that were peeking from their windows in frightened fascination. He had to end this now. He focused all his anger on the masked figures before him that called themselves wizards and thought only of his intent for the wizards that had given him hell for the last 7 years.

They exploded from within in bursts of red and lumps of brain matter and their remaining organs; their demise was too fast for them to scream or even feel anything.

Harry fell to his knees, the power to cast the powerful mass-blasting hex taking most of his energy. He knew he couldn't stay, though; the muggles look of horror was enough to tell him that they'd be calling the police in seconds if they hadn't already. He didn't know where he wanted to go but he knew he had to leave England. He couldn't put his friends or family in danger any longer. The Dursley's house had to be warded to keep them safe and today showed that even the words his late headmasters had made weren't infallible, as they'd probably have met their demise tonight if they were home. His friends…they had been almost killed every year without pause. It wasn't fair. And it wasn't right. He cared about them too much for their incredible luck to suddenly burn out. Voldemort and his remaining Death Eaters would surely follow him wherever he went they'd never stop until they killed him or he somehow killed Voldemort.

He was tired of this game of chase, he was tired of the deaths; his parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Hedwig; he wanted it all to end. He knew what he had to do, go somewhere where no one would think to follow him, train his arse off, then wait for Voldemort and his Death Eaters to find him, and then finally kill Voldemort.

Harry knew the people to go to if he wanted to escape under everyone's noses: the Goblins. They only listened to the people with enough gold to satisfy them and they only respected those who treated them with respect. Harry having known what it's like to be belittled and treated like dirt always showed the Goblins the utmost respect when with them, which is why the Goblins always loved when he would visit.

Willing his magic to allow him this last feat he thought of nothing but his will to be inside of Ragnok, the Goblin King's, office; with a resounding pop he disappeared from Privet Drive and into the head Goblin's office.

"To what do I owe this pleasure Mister Potter?" Ragnok asked with a malicious smirk at his ghastly appearance. Or maybe they like dealing with me because of all the trouble I get myself in, Harry thought sardonically.

"I need someplace safe to train. Someplace no one would think to look for me, preferably unplottable." Harry gasped clutching his side that had begun to bleed faster due to his ill done apparition.

Ragnok hummed in thought, snapping his fingers a folder with his family crest appeared with a poof in his gnarled hands. He leafed through it nodding his head at the things he read before closing it abruptly with a crack and making it disappear with a wave of his finger.

"There is a property that your mother inherited from her Great Uncle, Charlus Browning. Your mother made it unplottable after the first rising of Voldemort. To see the location you would have to drip three dots of blood on this parchment," he held up a blank piece of crinkled parchment for Harry to see.

Harry nodded and the Ragnok handed him a small golden dagger carved in runes to cut himself with. Harry hoisted himself off the wall he was currently leaning on to wobble to the desk the parchment was on. He had to pull his sleeve up to uncover his hand as it was one of Dudley's hand me downs, he winced at the amount of blood that had accumulated on the shirt. He cut a thin line on the palm of his hand and dripped three drops onto the sheet and watched as the blood danced to form an address in neat loopy cursive. It read:
Browning Manor, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, United States of America

He was going to America, Pittsburgh to be exact. He nodded his thanks telling them they were free to take the allotted gold from his vault for their service before using the last of his magic to transport himself to his new home.

He only made one step to the gate of his manor before the blackness that he'd been fighting since the death of the Death Eaters overcame him.

~/~/~/~ 4 hours later ~/~/~/~

"Oh my god! Brian, did you see that?"

A/N: I know I should really be updating Harry's Awakening instead of posting a new story, but I found that I couldn't resist. Rant in your reviews if you feel you must.