A/N: Year 2 has now begun! Welcome back all those who have read "A Different Road." If you have not read the first one, you will not understand this story. Read the first story before reading this one.

Keep in mind that I consider this story a Dark fic, as well as an Alternative one. If that doesn't bother you, read on.

Anyway, enjoy the first chapter in the second installment! New and interesting things will happen, and yes, someone will die before the year is over. You'll just have to wait and see…

Disclaimer: All characters, except Professor Oliver Parish, belong to J.K. Rowling's. She owns this wonderful world of Harry Potter.

"You can never get enough of what you don't need to make you happy."

-Eric Hoffer

1

Professor Parish

Harry has been at the Dursley's for two weeks now, and has so far gotten no letters from anyone in the magical world. He felt completely closed off from everyone. He would just walk around outside in the Dursley's garden for hours, it seemed, waiting for someone to contact him.

During the day, he has taken to sitting on the one swing that hadn't been broken by Dudley's fat arse when he was younger. The air was a bit hot, but as Harry lightly swung, a small breeze would rustle through his messy hair and too big muggle clothes. Clothes that he hated, but had to wear since Uncle Vernon wouldn't allow him to wear his cloak ("Someone might see!" exclaimed Aunt Petunia.).

But as Harry sat there on the swing, Hedwig flew up to Harry with a letter, and landed on his lap. "Hiya, Hedwig! I was wondering where you went," said Harry, more cheerfully, now that a letter had finally arrived for him. "Come." Harry put out of left arm, and Hedwig jumped on.

Harry walked though the back door into the house. He made sure there was no one in the kitchen and sat down at the dinner table, putting Hedwig on the back of his chair after taking off the letter. Harry opened the letter to see small, tightly-spaced handwriting.

Harry,

I asked my father, and he said that you could stay at my house. We'll come to get you soon, most likely before the week is up. For now,

Draco

Harry looked away from the letter, happy he would soon be away from this wretched place. But then he realized Draco had no idea where the Dursley's lived. How would they find him? Harry realized he didn't have any other parchment or a quill, but looking around the kitchen, he found a simple ballpoint pen. Harry turned over the parchment and began to write.

Draco,

I'm so glad that you and your father are going to come get me. Just so you know where to find me, the Dursley's address is 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging in Surrey. I'm not sure how your going to get me, but the Dursley's don't like wizards, so when you do, be careful what your father and you do and how you get here. But the sooner I'm away from them, the better. See you soon,

Harry

Once Harry had finished the letter, he attached it to Hedwig's leg, and she flew off out the partly open back door. No sooner did Hedwig fly off, did Uncle Vernon—

"Boy! Where are you?" called Uncle Vernon, as he walked heavily down the stairs and then into the kitchen. Once he saw Harry sitting at the table, with a pen in his hand, he stopped. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," said Harry. Uncle Vernon eyed him suspiciously.

"Why do you have a pen in your hand?" asked Uncle Vernon. Harry had completely forgot he was holding it, and dropped it to the table.

"Oh. Well, I was just holding it," said Harry, quickly. Uncle Vernon walked further into the kitchen and took a seat across from Harry. He unfolded The Times to read, completely ignoring Harry. Harry started looking around the room, trying to find something to occupy his time.

Harry didn't know it, but Uncle Vernon was looking at him over the top of the newspaper. Ever since he had returned from Hogwarts, Harry realized that Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had tried to stay far way from him as possible, as if he was contagious with some horrible disease.

Harry had come back to the Dursley's thinking that he would have to stay in the cupboard under the stairs like he had before he left. But to his surprise (to say the least), he had his own room; one of the rooms that Dudley had used to store his mass amounts of unused and forgotten toys.

When Harry had gotten back for the first time, Uncle Vernon told him to go upstairs to the first room on the right. He saw a bed, wardrobe, and table; it even had a window to look out of. Harry was overjoyed to finally have a room of his own, but it didn't change the fact that he was still with the Dursley's.

Uncle Vernon reminded him that he wanted to see no signs of magic… at all. So Harry had done nothing to do with magic for two whole weeks. But of course he couldn't, since Uncle Vernon took his trunk and locked it in the cupboard under the stairs.

Harry, realizing that Uncle Vernon was watching him, got up from the table. "Where are you going, boy?" asked Uncle Vernon.

"To my room," said Harry, as he began to walk out of the very clean kitchen. But he stopped, remembering something. "By the way, my friend Draco Malfoy from Hog—from school is going to come sometime during the week to get me. He didn't tell me exactly when, though."

"Fine," said Uncle Vernon. Harry probably assumed he didn't hear his minor slipup just then. Uncle Vernon paused, looking down at the paper once more. Harry moved to leave, but then Uncle Vernon cleared his throat, so he stopped. "Exactly how will they be coming to get you? I don't want anything to be seen that could be associated with your kind."

"I don't know. He didn't tell me," said Harry simply.

"Well, tell him no funny business," said Uncle Vernon, turning, once again, back to his paper. As Harry was walking up the stairs, he heard Uncle Vernon call to him saying, "I want you back down here by six for dinner, boy."

Harry walked into his room and closed the door, thankful to get away from Uncle Vernon. When Harry had come back two weeks ago from Hogwarts, he had found, in the corner of the room, an old baseball. He would throw it up and down to keep himself occupied and to keep up his reflexes for Quidditch.

Harry picked up the old ball from his bedside table, sat on the side of his bed, and began to throw it up and down. He did this for about five minutes, when the sudden sound of Dudley slamming his door and shouting, caused him to lose control of the ball. It fell to the floor with a thud and rolled under his bed.

With a sigh, Harry got up and then laid down on his stomach to reach under his bed for the ball. When Harry had grabbed the ball, he noticed a small gap around one of the floorboards. He picked it up, and saw that there was room under the board for a couple items. Well, this could be useful.

Harry re-covered the floorboard, and moved his body to get from under the bed. When he picked up his head, he noticed that Hedwig was sitting on his bed, as well as another owl Harry didn't recognize. Harry wiped off the dust from his shirt and took the letter from Hedwig first.

Harry,

I'll be sure to tell my father that we have to be careful what we do. They're only Muggles, so I'm sure you don't have to worry too much. My father can handle it. My father told me that we'll be coming to get you tomorrow at eight pm. Be ready,

Draco

Harry looked over what Draco had written to him. 'My father can handle it.' His father can handle it? How? Harry put the letter down and looked at the other owl. He was small and brown and seemed a bit out of breath. Carefully, Harry took the letter from the small creature. Harry immediately recognized the unorganized handwriting.

Harry,

My mum and dad said they would be thrilled to have you come over. I know that you don't like staying with the Dursley's, so just tell me when you want to be picked up and my dad and I will come to get you. Hope to see you soon,

Ron

He put the letter on his bed and then exhaled loudly.

Since Draco and his father are coming to get Harry tomorrow night, he'll have to tell Ron that he can go to his home later in the summer. Should I tell him that I'm going to Draco's house? Harry decided against it, and wrote back saying that the Dursley's wouldn't let him leave the house yet because he had to do chores and such like that. And that he would write back when he could go to Ron's home later in the summer.

Harry gave some water to Hedwig and Ron's owl and sent the latter on his way with the letter attached to his leg. As it was slowly starting to near six, Harry put away the letters, and went down for dinner.

Later, while they were having dinner, Uncle Vernon told Harry that they would all be going to London tomorrow because Dudley wanted an extra present. He didn't like the idea of having to spend the entire day with the Dursley's, but Harry knew there was nothing he could do.

----------------------------

The air was humid, and unluckily for them, there was no breeze. The Dursley's and Harry had arrived in London and parked on one of the streets. Harry got out of the car and saw Uncle Vernon already putting some change into the meter. He looked at the road sign: Vauxhall Rd.

"I want to go in there!" shouted Dudley, pointing to a small store. Harry saw that it was a variety store.

"Dudley-kin's, you don't want to go in there. There's nothing in there you would want," said Aunt Petunia, as she held her small purse tightly.

Dudley turned to face Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. "I want… to go… in there."

After checking there were no cars, Harry watched as Dudley waddled his way across the street to the store with Aunt Petunia following awkwardly behind him. The sight made him chuckle, but then Uncle Vernon grabbed him hard by the shoulder.

"No funny business, or you'll be in the car with no air conditioning. Got it?" asked Uncle Vernon. Harry nodded.

A chime jingled as they opened the door to the variety store. Harry walked in, feeling the cold air of the store and was relieved to get away from the heat. He saw that Dudley was over in one of the aisles with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and so he began to walk around.

They had been in the store for a while. Dudley couldn't decide on which one item he wanted, so he had gotten many. Of course, Harry was the one to carry the bags. He had looked down a couple aisles, but always ran into Dudley.

Since he had seen Dudley had seen on the left side of the store looking through the stuff devouringly, he had decided to quickly go to the right side. In the very last aisle, Harry saw there was a man but he was on the other end. Harry pushed the handles of the bags further up on his forearms. The items on the shelves served no interest to Harry, since they were things like dolls, batteries, and wigs. On the wall, there was even more useless stuff that Harry knew he would never need during his lifetime.

Harry was closer to the man, who was looking at an object. As there was nothing of interest in this aisle, he decided to go looking in the next one. Harry turned to the side, so none of the bags would hit the man and carefully went by him.

"Odd objects, yeah?" asked the man. Harry stopped, turning to see what the man was holding. It was a figurine of a witch flying on a broom as she wore a black pointed hat. Before Harry could answer, the man continued, "Do you think there could be real witches and wizards out there… Harry Potter?"

As he said Harry's name, the man turned to look at him. Harry meanwhile was looking at the man with utter shock. "How do you know my name?"

The man put the figurine of the witch back onto the shelf next to the figure of a black raven and turned to face Harry. "Oliver Parish," said the man casually. He quickly looked behind him before adding in a whisper, "I'll be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." He held out his hand.

Harry shook his hand, the shock now gone. "Nice to meet you, Professor." He looked at the man he was shaking hands with: average height, somewhat thin, short light brown hair, and light blue eyes. He looked rather young; perhaps a couple years shy of thirty.

"You're going to be in your second year, is that correct?" asked Professor Parish, as they released hands.

"Yes," said Harry with a nod.

"Good, good," said Professor Parish. "If you don't mind me asking, why do you have so many bags?"

"They're my cousin Dudley's. He's…the rather large kid on the other side of the store," said Harry. He jabbed his thumb in the direction of Dudley.

"Hmm… anything in those bags for you?"

"No, Professor. It's all for my cousin."

Professor Parish picked up the little figurine of the witch again. "Likes a lot of things, doesn't he?" It was more of a rhetorical question, but Harry nodded anyway. "Come. Let's see if we can find something for you."

"Professor, you don't have to." But he didn't hear Harry.

Professor Parish started walking to the cash register, which was in the front of the store. Harry followed. Some of the bags hit his knees as he walked.

"Professor, why are you in a muggle store if you're a wizard?" asked Harry, not bothering to lower his voice.

"I'm Muggle-born. Sometimes I find it easier to be around muggles than wizards," said Professor Parish, turning to Harry. He got to the counter and took out his wallet.

"This all, sir?" asked the woman behind the counter politely.

"No." Harry saw Professor Parish grab a journal, which was next to the cash register. "This too."

After he bought the items, Professor Parish turned to Harry, holding the journal to him. "Something for you. Its not fair that you're cousin gets everything," said Professor Parish nicely and with some sympathy. Harry took the journal. "Write your thoughts in it." Professor Parish smiled at him cheerfully.

Harry smiled back at him. "Thank you, Professor."

"Well, I have to go. See you at school then."

"Bye." Harry heard the chime on the door sound as it was opened and closed. Suddenly, behind him he heard loud footsteps. "Boy!"

While his back was still turned to Uncle Vernon, he quickly stuffed the journal into the waist of his trousers and then covered it with his large shirt. He turned to face Uncle Vernon who was closer. "Where have you been?" asked Uncle Vernon. Harry noticed there was a bag in Uncle Vernon's plump fingers.

"Looking around," said Harry innocently, as he stepped away from the counter and towards his uncle.

"We're not getting anything for you, so don't bother looking. Here," said Uncle Vernon, as he thrust forward the hand that was holding the bag. Reluctantly, Harry took it and put it onto his arm. He could feel the handles of the bags digging into his forearms, but tried to ignore it.

After a half hour of staring out the large window watching as cars passed by, Harry finally heard Dudley say he wanted to leave.

When they got to the car, Uncle Vernon took the bags from Harry and put them into the trunk as he gave Harry a look. Harry looked at his forearms, which had red lines all over them from the bag handles. He rubbed his arms with his hands.

"Get in," said Uncle Vernon forcibly. As they turned off Vauxhall Road, it began to rain heavily and they decided they should head home.

A/N: How did you like the first chapter? Already you got to meet a new character. Sorry but Lockhart won't be the professor in any year. The next chapter goes straight to the time when Draco comes to the Dursley house. Just so you know. Thanks for reading!