It was early noon, the  warmest day of the summer so far just beginning, the natives of Surrey frequenting ice cream parlours or sitting stretched out in front of their pools, nursing cold drinks or reading the books that quite ordinary people reads.

The only inhabitant left inside was a small youth with the slightly scrawny look of an already skinny person in a growing spur, unkempt raven black hair that almost reached his shoulders, incredibly bright green eyes and a most distinctive scar.

Despite his size – by which some people judged him – he radiated a sense of power everybody in the same room intelligent enough to outwit a kowakian monkey lizard – according to one of his books a remarkably stupid creature – could sense, if not know for what it was, that had nothing to do with muscles: sometimes even the mere force of his presence, made people stay still and hear him out even though they did not really want to.

His name was Harry Potter.

Any other day he would be appalled by the situation and the people enjoying themselves outside, but finally this day long working plans had born fruits.

Harry currently sat in front of the television, quite enjoying the fact that the house's other inhabitants were currently out in an amusement park, nursing a cold coke and a chocolate bar from his cousin's expansive personal storage.

Right now, he was quite enjoying himself, perhaps for the first time of the otherwise loathsome summer holidays and he thought he ought to be congratulated on his sneakiness for he had, in a way, set up this situation himself.

For several days now, - in the presence of his aunt, uncle and cousin - he had complained – very loudly – about the heat, of course sparking the same course of action in his cousin's stupid little mind, then he had proceeded to 'correct' the house's heating system to most unbearable temperatures and – in his eyes the most clever deed of all – left several small brochures for tempting water worlds and air-conditioned amusement parks.

So, very early in the morning this particular Saturday, he could watch from his bedroom window a fully loaded car wheel of from Little Whinging, go downstairs and laugh at the hastily scribbled note on the dinner table.

Do not touch anything!

Now, after watching the news for nearly a hour and a half, with several empty bottles next to him and his pockets full with candy wrappings, he was sitting curled up in a chair in the corner, reading Do it yourself Dark Arts Defence, a rather thick volume he had received from Hogwart's excellent librarian Ms. Pince, along several other on the same subject, though he didn't exactly know why.

There was a lot of interesting stuff in there, – many charms he would absolutely love to try on Dudley – yet his thoughts strayed, becoming introspective,

For nearly a month now, Harry had pretended to ignore what happened in the magical world – his real world – and so far no news had arrived to make him worry over much, but of late he was finding it increasingly difficult to look himself or others in the eye.

The problem was that the, perhaps, most powerful, evil wizard of all time was out there, maybe killing of his friends and wrecking havoc on the defenceless, whilst he, Harry, the only one who could ultimately defeat him, sat here safely on his arse and did nothing.

For nearly a month Harry had excused himself by the knowledge that the situation he was in was exactly the one Dumbledore wanted him to be in, but he felt he no longer could hide behind that weak shield for the signs of Lord Voldemort's increasing power was becoming apparent even in the Muggle – totally non-magical humans – news.

Different people had disappeared, several had later been found dead without a single mark on their body, – or inside, for that matter – only a look of abject terror on their faces and the lack of pulse showing them to be actually dead and several were not found whatsoever. Harry wanted to be out there, fighting what - in his own eyes, at least - was his own battle, but most of all he wanted to escape from the door less prison that was Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

Also, he sorely missed his best friends – Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley – and for some reason, Ron's sister, Ginny, was often on his mind of late – but Harry knew his real drive was to get away from the Dursleys for his situation was becoming unbearable.

Of late, they treated every chair he was in as empty, the food he ate simply disappearing and the space he took some sort of paranormal anomaly: he was used to this approach for it was one of their favourites and, considering the alternatives he had been through, he didn't mind overly much, but the lack of intelligent conversation and sheer boredom was killing him as surely as a bullet between the eyes would.

The only conversation he had had of late was with himself and his old neighbour, Mrs. Figg, the only one in the vicinity who had contacts in the Wizard world, though she was not allowed to tell Harry anything of importance so their conversations often died before they even started.

As for boredom, he now had most intimate knowledge of the back alleys and streets of Little Whinging and the nearby areas as walking them was his favourite – and only – pastime; also, the material Ms. Pince had sent him on the Dark Art had and the defence against them had been devoured long since and reread several time and nearly learned by heart now.

Unwittingly, Harry's mind raced those dark paths and his mood fouled, until he found himself unable to take it anymore.

Resolving himself not to think anymore, Harry went to his room, his hither good mood utterly spoiled, and went to sleep, swallowing a dose of the Dreamless sleep potion Dumbledore had given him at his departure from Hogwart and looking forward to the day that he had mastered the art of Occlumency and no longer needed to take this foul potion.

Author's notes: So, what do you think of my first accomplished Fic?

Any thoughts should be written down in a review *cough, cough* or submitted to me at Snakebite@whitetower.org, please.

Flames are most welcome.

Oh, and I'll answer all reviews/questions asked to me in the Author's notes section.

DarkFlamer: Not quite sure what you mean there, mate, but I'll try to correct it.

BonerGram: Great Idea, if you don't mind if I use it?

7eleven: Whaat du yew meen may Eenglish sukk?

Ginnylover8: Yeah, it'll probably be a Harry\Ginny fic, but it depends.

On what, you ask?

Whether Ginny or Harry lives that long. ( I guarantee NOTHING.) Whether Ginny loves him and him her: I'm co-writing this you know. Whether Cho Chang will surrender him that easily. Whether Harry will allow himself to get together with her.

Snivellus Snape: Yeah this is set after the OotP and in collaboration with it.

MasterOld: the next chapter will be up in a couple days, though I will not have time to write much (School is a bitch™.) and will be called A Silent Departure (You heard it here first.)

Disclaimer: I do neither own Harry Potter nor do I make any money on this.

No copyright infringement intended.

A short chapter this one, but even though the others will – probable – be longer, they won't be much longer – i'd rather update more often.

Any CC/and/or/flames should be put into a review – if you're clever, you make it a signed one so it can't be removed J