Glancing at my badly fraying calendar on my wall, I sigh thinking that I only have two more days, and then I'm finally out of this hellhole forever. It's been two weeks and some days since my fight with Dudley. I still have this horrendous pain in my ribs, but it's not like Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon is going to take their resident freak to the hospital. No, instead, they've locked me in my room. They check on me every now and then. Sometimes they bring food. Sometimes they let me out to go to the bathroom. For the most part, though, they just see if I'm still breathing and shut the door once more. It's rather stupid but I'm enjoying the solitude from them. There's no 'Get this' or 'Get that, Freak.'

Shouting outside makes me glance towards my window. The shouting sounds familiar. I then lean further towards the window in the hopes to make out the individual words. I can't, though. Sighing, I get up and pull back my curtain just slightly. Whoever it is must be right in the doorway to the house.

"NO, SIR, YOU LISTEN HERE! FOR THE LAST TIME, THERE IS NO BLOODY HARRY POTTER HERE!" Uncle Vernon bellows loudly.

I can't help but smile. The person downstairs just has to be from the Wizarding World. It must be an Order member. Dumbledore wouldn't trust anyone else. My excitement increases as I wonder if it's Remus. Maybe they've found out about Dudley or something. Shaking my head, I think how stupid I am. They've come to get me early since it's so obvious that Voldemort would try to attack once the blood wards fall on my seventeenth birthday. I then grab my album from underneath my bed and clutch it tightly against my chest. The rest of my belongings in here can just burn. The album and my trunk really are the only things I need. My wand, my dad's Invisibility Cloak, my Firebolt, and everything else are in my trunk. Hedwig's with Ron so I didn't have to worry about finding spare bit of food for her.

At the sound of the footsteps ascending up the stairs towards my room, my grin widens. They're springing me from this hell early. I can't believe it. I'm practically giddy now. I slowly turn around, not caring what I look like when the person opens the door. I want whomever Dumbledore sent to fetch me to see what those bastards, namely Dudley, have done to me. After all, there's no chance of me ever returning. Not even Dumbledore could force me back here now. I did my time.

I smile waiting for the door to open to smell the fresh air of freedom. I close my eyes and breathe in a deep breath. Soon, I'll be with Ginny again, and we can sneak out late at night to go snog under one of the old oak trees. I can't wait to be free. It's there. It's right there. Faintly, I hear the doorknob to my room squeak loudly as it turns. Once more, I breathe in, reveling in the smell of sweet victory. I can't help it. My mouth just runs wild as I expect it to be Remus. I can't wait to see him.

"About time you showed up," I drawl with lopsided grin plastered on my face as the door flings open. My heart stops. That's not Remus. That is so not freaking Remus! I feel myself to panic as long slender pale fingers latch onto my shirt and yank me upwards so I'm nose to nose with my unlikely rescuer. I gulp as the obsidian eyes pierce mine with the worst death glare I've ever seen from the man.

"You little fool," hisses Severus Snape, the scariest professor and biggest git at Hogwarts. "I bet you're proud of yourself. Aren't you, Potter?" Spittle hits me in the face. On a scale of 1 to 10 on how ticked Snape is, I'd rate him about a thousand.

"I'm sorry, sir," I reply, hoping it'll calm him down. After all, how in the hell was I supposed to know it'd be Snape rescuing me, not Remus? I'm not a freaking mind reader. Snape then releases me as if he's just touched acid before whirling around towards Uncle Vernon.

"I'm taking Potter with me, Dursley. If you have any ounce of self-preservation in you, you'll bring me the boy's trunk that you so stupidly lock up every summer. You have exactly one minute." Snape's tone is deadly and extremely lethal. It's like watching a cobra waiting to strike a mouse. Except Uncle Vernon is a really stupid mouse.

"Now, you listen here, when we took that boy in—"

"I don't give a damn what you're going to say, Dursley. You will do what I say or else."

"I will not be threatened in my own home by you…you freaks!"

If I were anyone else, I'd have winced when Snape leapt towards Uncle Vernon and shoved him against the wall. In my mind, Uncle Vernon was getting his just deserts. Who was I to stop Snape?

"Dursley," Snape says in his deadliest soft voice that I've ever heard. "I may not be able to kill you, but I assure you that I can make your miserable Muggle life hell. If you keep pushing me, you'll see just how 'freaky' I can be." Snape's dark eyes glisten menacingly. "Is that understood, Dursley, or must I do some MAGIC on you?"

Uncle Vernon's face instantly turns violet. He hates that word, and I'm sure Snape definitely remembers that from our doomed Occlumency lessons. After all, the wizard's positively gleeful himself at the sight of Uncle Vernon turning violent shades of purple. Between the two hated men, I'm definitely cheering for Snape in this death match.

"Tuney told me all about you," Uncle Vernon says with a sickening smirk as if he thinks he has some sort of advantage over Snape. "You're that creepy bloke who used to follow Petunia's sister around begging for handouts like the poor reject you are." Snape takes a step back from him and relaxes into a very eerily calm pose. "Oh, yeah, not so tough now, are you?" He then glances towards me before scoffing. "Why don't you just take your bastard son already and get out of here? Unlike Petunia's parents, I don't run a goddamn welfare place." Snape remains perfectly still as a statue, which really isn't a good sign for Uncle Vernon. "You know, if you probably washed your hair every once and awhile, I bet she wouldn't have—"

CRACK!

"You should consider yourself lucky, Dursley, that I only hit you," Snape hisses as blood streams from Uncle Vernon's nose. Snape then whirls towards me. He looks almost as feral as he did when I saw his memories. "Come, Potter," he commands as if I'm a dog. "We'll get your trunk on the way out." He then turns around and briskly heads out of my room to the downstairs area.

I follow him silently hoping and praying he's not going to kill me once we leave. Something has upset Snape badly, but he hasn't let it on what exactly, though. I mean, it definitely can't have been my stupid mistake of thinking he was Remus. If it were that, he'd be over it by now. And I doubt Uncle Vernon could have annoyed him that quickly. My mouth drops seconds later when Snape roughly pushes me away from him before drawing his wand. Has he finally lost it and decided to kill us all? Seconds later, the door to my former room, the cupboard under the stairs, shatters as I recognize a blasting curse hit it. Snape says nothing before yanking my trunk out of it.

"Is that all of your belongings, Potter?"

"Yes, sir," I reply trying desperately not to set Snape off. He only nods before shrinking my trunk and putting it in his robes. He then whirls around once more and starts heading towards the front door. I quickly follow after him not wanting to spend another night in this hellhole again. Aunt Petunia who steps in front of Snape with a nasty look on her face, however, blocks our exit.

"Sixteen years we've had to put up with your bastard son—"

Snape waves his hand at her, effectively silencing her with a wandless spell. He then leans towards her in the same intimidating manner that he did earlier with Uncle Vernon. His eyes darken again. Obviously, my relatives bring the worst out in Snape.

"Listen here, you old hag," Snape snarls. "He's not my son! And if you continue to slander your sister's name, I'll have you and your bastard husband brought up on charges of neglect and child endangerment. I wonder what the ladies at the beauty parlor would say about that, Petunia. I bet they wouldn't be very sympathetic to you and Dursley." His glare deepens. "Dumbledore gave you one job, and you both screwed that up royally." Very briefly, his eyes dart towards Dudley. "I see that all of the gracious money Dumbledore gave you went to your swine of a son's goal of being as big as a house. Congratulations, Petunia. I believe he's accomplished that." With another effortless wave, Snape quickly sidesteps Aunt Petunia and motions for me to follow again.

I glance at my relatives very briefly. Dudley looks utterly horrified by Snape. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon are downright furious. I shake my head and follow Snape out. I'm not going to say goodbye to them. They don't deserve it.

"Thank you, Professor," I quietly say as we stand side-by-side on the front porch. Snape's eyes dart towards me, but he says nothing. He's still rather angry about something. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch my reflection on the glass of the front door. Bruises cover my entire face. Maybe he's angry about that? Nah...this is Snape, not Remus.

"You can stare at yourself later, Potter," Snape snaps before grabbing my arm. Without even giving me a warning, a feeling of a tube squeezing me sweeps over me. Snape is apparating us away from Privet Drive. The only thing I can say is good riddance.