Harry had been at Privet Drive with the Dursley's all summer, it being the summer after his sixth year at Hogwarts, and by far the most horrible yet. Thoughts of his godfather Sirius had long faded from their minds and Harry wondered if the Dursleys even believed he existed anymore-certainly they no longer feared a murderous convict popping in to check on Harry's wellbeing. This fear had been all Harry had relied upon in previous summers to keep the Dursleys civil towards him (they knew he was not allowed to perform magic outside of Hogwarts). His uncle had quickly got the notion into his head that Harry should get a job to earn his keep, and had begun sort of contracting Harry out as a lawn boy to his friends and neighbors. Of course, Harry got to keep none of his earnings but had to hand every penny over to his uncle who kept tabs on the hours he worked to make sure Harry withheld nothing. It was almost July. Harry had been so busy and in a constant state of hunger and exhaustion that he had neither the time nor energy to think of anything remotely magical. The lawn jobs his uncle set up were always with Muggles and he was given strict instructions to keep away from any "funny business-or else." The "or else" usually amounted to an even smaller portion of food or an extra job that week. Even more insulting was the fact that Harry's jobs were going to pay for a particularly expensive stint at a weight-loss resort in France that Dudley was attending. It seemed that every week that passed brought another letter from Dudley asking for some new expensive novelty (which Harry knew would be sat upon and squashed before the next letter came), as well as letters from the head of Dudley's camp complaining about his uncooperative nature and food-pilfering habits. Harry's aunt and uncle merely chuckled at their boy's "naturally mischievous nature." And, adding insult to injury, Harry was still made to tend to the Dursley's own yard in his spare time, which no matter how hard he worked at it, he could no manage to completely rid it of weeds. Aunt Petunia never failed to point out a whole patch of prickly weeds he missed, leading him to wonder if the yard wasn't somewhat enchanted after all. So, on any given morning that summer, Harry could have been viewed lugging his yard tools in Dudley's old red wheelbarrow, up and down Privet Drive. As miserable as this existence was, he found it immensely preferable to being at home with Dudley and the Dursleys all summer, and often he found ways to finish a job early and sneak off somewhere peaceful to have a moments rest or a quick nap. Hedwig was locked in her cage again this summer, and new bars on his windows prevented anything but the occasionally- risked letter to slide through. It was then to his great surprise when , on his way to a job a few houses down, a large eagle owl soared toward him and dropped a small parcel into the dirty wheelbarrow. Looking around to see if anyone had noticed (no one was around), Harry picked up the small parcel; he noticed it was wrapped in gold foil paper and tied with a glimmering black bow. It certainly looked every bit like a present, but who would be sending him a present so far from his birthday, by owl in broad daylight, and so grandly wrapped? Harry decided it was best to wait until he was home to open it, in case its contents were some conspicuous magical item. Burning with curiosity, Harry rushed through his job and practically ran home; he had over an hour before he had to be at his next job. He was exhausted and starving but he bounded past the kitchen (where Aunt Petunia had half a lettuce sandwich and water on the table for him) and upstairs to his bedroom. Hedwig had been asleep under her wing and gave him a one-eyed glare before falling asleep again. Harry pulled the parcel out his jacket and looked at it again. 'Well, nothing left but to open it I suppose. I doubt Voldemort would bother to make a curse look so pretty,' Harry thought. He set the present on his bed and squatted to be eye-level with it, then slowly pulled the black ribbon tied around it. The foil paper fell open and inside lay a rather ordinary-looking black bag and a note on a scrap of parchment. In a flowing script was written:

All summer you thought you'd been alone, Far from friends and far from home. Yet an unlikely friend's been at your side, Watching you on Privet Drive. I've suffered as you've suffered here, And I bring you something to hold dear. Reach inside the black bag's depths To get the treat you like the best.

There the script ended and Harry saw nothing written on the back; the note was unsigned. 'An unlikely friend!' Harry thought that spying on him didn't sound too friendly yet it was somehow comforting that someone else was here, watching over him in this entirely un-magical place. Harry's attention now turned to the bag, which he picked up and examined with interest. Following the poem's directions he reached inside the bag. A strange sensation surrounded his hand as something materialized in it. He pulled his hand back out of the bag and saw a flagon of pumpkin juice. 'Perfect!,' Harry thought as he emptied the flask's contents thirstily. He reached back into the bag, again felt something materialize, and his hand came back holding a whole plate of food-spice ham with caramel sauce, Yorkshire puddings, fluffy salmon mousse, and sweet potato muffins! A veritable feast to the starved Harry Potter, who could barely keep from choking as he quickly downed the delicacies. Whoever had sent this present was truly a friend indeed. He had heard of bottomless bags before but they were usually extremely expensive as it took a very powerful wizard to perform such a lasting enchantment. Harry smiled as he became drowsy with fullness, and contentedly lay back on his bed for a nap, feeling happier that he had all summer.