Where Blood Runs

It was a late evening, and Harry Potter lay awake in bed. It was only about five o'clock, but he had be outside the entire day. For once, however, it was of his own accord. Harry rolled over and looked at the calendar. He couldn't believe it had been two weeks already, and the Dursleys had yet to make the place a living hell. Of course, he couldn't be completely surprised. At the end of last year, a few members of the Order had threatened the Dursleys with a "visit" should they bother Harry. The Dursleys, complete anti-magic people, didn't like the idea of five or six full-grown wizards paying them a visit.

No, Harry had been outside of his own accord, instead choosing to stay away from the Dursleys, who were pretty much acting as if he weren't there. While this was a definite improvement, being treated as if he didn't exist, he was bothered, and tended to stay away from the house. He usually stayed outside, walking the few blocks to the city park, or weather permitting, go even farther, riding the subway to London and spending his day in Diagon Alley.

His second day back from Hogwarts, Harry had swiped a few dollars from Dudley, and rode the subway down to London. He had immediately gone to Gringotts, and exchanged some of his wizard money for muggle money, so that he would have cash for when he wasn't able to escape to Diagon Alley. Since then Harry had gone there probably four times a week, dining for lunch at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Oddly enough, Harry hadn't run into Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny, or any of his close friends. He had spotted Cho once, and had lunch with Dean one afternoon, but even Malfoy hadn't been seen.

Not that it was at all like last year, when Harry had been trapped with the Dursleys for almost all of last summer, without anyone sending him a decent letter. Ron and Hermione had both wrote faithfully, and were making plans to all stay at the Burrow within a few weeks. What he really need though, was someone he could write to, for advice. Ron and Hermione were great, but they didn't have the experience that only came with age. Harry couldn't write to Lupin, or anyone from the Order for that matter, as they were all very busy, keeping Voldemort at bay. Truth was, the person he really need, was Sirius.

Sirius. Tears still pricked at the edge of Harry's eyes, when he thought of him. Sirius had died a couple of months ago, protecting Harry and his friends from a gang of Death Eaters. Worst of all, Harry couldn't help but think that it was his fault that Sirius had died. If Harry hadn't fallen for Voldemort's trick, if Harry had listened to Dumbledore, if Harry hadn't looked at the pensive, if Harry had practiced when he was supposed to.....He didn't want to think about it. Sirius was dead, and there was nothing he could do.

Racking his brain for someone to write to, Harry pulled out the photo album under his bed. He flipped through the pages, past the pictures of his parents, to more recent ones. Him, Ron, and Hermione. Ginny, just after getting out of the Chamber. Sirius in his dog form, during Harry's fourth year. The twins, Fred and George, just after leaving Hogwarts, already preparing their shop. That was it, Fred and George. They didn't have much in the way of experience, but Harry could write to them without feeling as if he were whining. He walked over to his desk, and pulled out a loose sheet of parchment.

Harry dipped the nearby quill in a well of ink, and began to write.

Dear Fred and George,

How is the shop coming? All is quiet here, on Privet Drive. The Dursleys gave up treating me as a slave, and now I'm just invisible. I've been spending time around in Diagon Alley, probably three or four times a week. Maybe I'll take the full ride down to Hogsmeade one-day, and visit you two at the shop for a day or two. Anyway, I hope to run into you, I'll be sure to get Ron and Hermione to sneak out with me on a Hogsmeade weekend. Wait...that's right, we don't have limits anymore, do we? I'll come down the first week back to school. Are you guys planing on going back to the Burrow this summer? I'm going to be heading over there soon, maybe we'll run into eachother there.

Hope to see you soon,

Harry

There. That was atleast a halfway decent letter. Satisfied, Harry moved to tie the letter to Hedwig's talon. Just then, there was a tap on the window. Harry wheeled round to see Pig, Ron's owl, twittering around the window. Harry walked over to the window, and opened it to let the owl in. Harry felt something feathery hit his stomach full force, and the next second he was on the floor, laughing, as the bird wriggled in his cupped hands.

Finally, Harry managed to get a hold on Pig, and get the letter from him. Harry let him into Hedwig's cage, who set a menacing glare on the younger owl. Harry sat down, then spread out the parchment, and, as he thought, it was from Ron.

Harry-

Harry, guess what? Mum's just got permission from Dumbledore to have you here for the rest of the summer! Anyway- we'll be picking you up in two days, I dunno when though. Mum wanted you to ask your Aunt and Uncle first, so mail me back with your reply.

-Ron

Harry grinned, verified he had read correctly, and tumbled off his bed. Harry walked over to the cage, and let Pig out. He asked him if he was up to dropping by to send the twins a letter, and an eager hoot answered his question. Harry tied his letter to Pig, and sent him out the window. For a moment, harry watched him fall, and then rise back to a cruising height rather quickly. Shaking his head, Harry headed towards his door, as Aunt Petunia's shrill voice announced dinner.

Harry trudged downstairs, to the dinner table. He sat down on one side, directly opposite from Dudley, and placed his napkin in his lap. Dudley sneered at him from the other side of the table then grinned. Harry noticed three red streaks, one under either eye and across the bridge of his nose. While Harry knew the exact cause of this, Aunt Petunia seemed to be oblivious, as she exclaimed, "Dudley, you got sun-burned! Oh, you must keep yourself out of the sun, to protect your delicate skin!"

Now, hearing anything about Dudley being delicate was enough to send Harry into a fit of laughing, which he promptly hid by retrieving his napkin, which had seemed to hall on the floor somehow. He stopped though, when Uncle Vernon entered the room. Harry watched him sit down, oddly enough taking up less space than his son.

Dinner went well enough, for the most part, until it got up to Harry asking to leave. "But they're coming in two days! It's not like I do anything around here-"

"I will not have a gaggle of w- your kind in my house!"

"But-"

Harry could see the wheels in his Uncle's head turning. On the one hand, Harry would be out of his hair. On the other, he would be granting Harry the one thing he wanted most at the time. All Harry needed was one thing to carry him the extra mile. "It'll be safer here..."

That finished it, and Harry knew it. Uncle Vernon stammered in an answer, "When are they coming?"

"Two Days."

"How?"

"I....don't know. I suppose they'll drive..."

Uncle Vernon snorted, and straightened himself out. He dismissed Harry by saying, "You may go upstairs now."

Harry left obediently, taking the time to push in his chair, and drop the dishes in the sink. Harry trudged back upstairs, and sat down at his desk to write a reply to Ron.

Ron-

It's okay, I got the clear. See you in two days.

-Harry

As he walked over to Hedwig's cage, to let her out, Harry caught himself in the mirror. This came to a bit of a shock for him, as he hadn't really looked at himself in the mirror for a while. Grinning back at him was a very tan boy, with long hair that fell just past the ears in the longest section. Bangs fell well past his eyes, which no longer sported glasses. Harry had almost forgotten about this; he had been to a shop in Diagon Alley ages ago, within the first three days of getting back. They had fit him with a special type of contact, and he hadn't thought of it since. They weren't really contacts, the wizard had explained, just spelled plastic. Harry remembered then what it had felt like, when the contacts had melted into his eyes, correcting his vision. It had been an odd experience, but he was satisfied with the effect. No more tape, that was for sure.

Harry then continued on to Hedwig's cage, taking time to make sure the letter was secure. Hedwig nipped him affectionately, just before Harry launched her out into the night. He watched her leave, a sickle floating on the dark seas of the night. When she had faded from view, he walked over to his bed, and fell down on top. Within a few seconds, Harry had slipped into unconsciousness.

*****

Harry woke quickly, his mouth covered. He felt a pang of fear, but this faded as soon as Lupin's face swam into view. The mere expression on his face suggested silence, and he led Harry over to his trunk, gesturing him to get his things together. Harry started to gather various things, spell books and such, but the look on Lupin's face caused him to stop. Lupin brought out his wand with a flourish, sending all his things into the trunk, packed as well as possible. Harry ran over and grabbed Hedwig's cage, before following him out of the room.

They walked a little ways down the street, crossed it, and continued walking, until they were no longer in view of Number Four. Lupin then pulled out his wand, swung it high in the air, and lighted the tip. Within seconds, the bright purple Knight Bus was rumbling down the street, headed towards them.

Professor Lupin helped Harry load his trunk into the Knight Bus, and shove it under one of the various beds in the bus. Within minutes of laying on one of the beds, Harry was unconscious.