Chapter 1

The light glared in through the windows on Number Four Privet Drive, from the street lamp outside. Casting creeping shadows over the sleeping faces, it came to rest on the upstairs window where a curious black haired boy was tossing and turning. His pillow thrown hastily onto the floor during his dream filled fight, Harry Potter was once again having a restless night.

"I-t's almost done...My..my Lord." Came a squeaky voice through the dark hall. It seemed to echo off the dingy, damp walls in a chilling force.

"Excellent Wormtail. And don't spill it this time!" A second voice rang out, hanging in the air longer then the previous one. Clinking of glass and hurried scuffling were heard down the hall, as Harry made his way silently too them. He would pause every now and then when everything went still, as to not be heard himself.

"Here you are M-my Lord" Wormtail spoke with fear. His back hunched over in an akward attempt to hide his face from his Master.

"Come closer fool! You know I am not strong enough yet." Hissed Lord Voldemort. Harry crept closer to the doorway and peeked through the gap. His breath caught.

Voldemort was sitting limply on a half-moth eaten chair, his head rolling loosely around on a pair of mismatched shoulders. His neck seemed to be bent at an odd point and an ominous cracking sound was coming from it with every head roll. His face resembled nothing more then a skull with bits and pieces of hanging flesh and two milky white eyes. Harry tried hard to pull himself away but something about Voldemort kept him looking for more. He swallowed hard, and gently repositioned himself against the wall to get a better look.

Wormtail was slowly shuffling toward him, whimpering under his breath as he tried not to look at Voldemort. Holding out a small, smoking cauldron, he nervously reached out his hand and tipped his Lords head back. Face quickly growing green at the cracking sound and sudden smell, Wormtail carefully poured the potion down Voldemort's gnarled throat. Once he had swallowed it all, Wormtail backed away quickly, dropping the empty cauldron with a loud thud. The noise seemed to rattle through the abandoned house, quickly drowned out by a sudden hacking fit.

The scene following after was a gruesome one as Voldemort's body shot straight up on the chair, his head snapping back into its proper position. The sounds his body was making as it slowly repaired itself, reached Harry's ears and he, just like wormtail, backed away from the door. He lost sight of what was happening but judging from the sounds, Harry had an idea. An eerie screeching seeped through the doorway and Harry found himself being pulled forward again by a strange green mist.

"M-my Lord." Wormtail said in barely a whisper. Harry pressed his ear against the door to hear better. A slow, raspy breath could be heard.

"It has worked." Came Lord Voldemort's voice with a stronger power. "I can feel my power returning." His voice hissed as if an air tank was leaking. "And I will finally destroy you." He laughed as he pointed to the door and somehow pulled Harry through it. "I've been waiting, Harry." And all went black.

Harry sprung awake with a start and began to panic when he couldn't move his arms. Glancing around for any sign of Voldemort, he relaxed when his room came into blurry view and he ripped himself from his tangled sheets. Falling off his bed in a heap of limbs and sheets, he secretly prayed that the Dursley's had not heard him. A loud snort had confirmed that the other residents were still fast asleep. He debated wither to get up and back on his bed or just simply stay on the floor when a tap...tap...tap caught his attention. Groaning deeply to himself, Harry pushed himself up from his floor and reached for his glasses. Stealing a glance at his watch, he groaned again at the time.

"Four in the morning." He grumbled as he crossed his small room in a few steps and threw his window open. A light brown tawny owl swooped into his room, followed closely by Hedwig, who was clutching a dead mouse in her beak. "'Ello Hedwig" He said in a sleepy tone and turned his attention back to the other owl. A letter was tied neatly to its stretched out leg and Harry instantly recognized the hand writing. Taking the note from the owl and shaking it open, he wondered to himself why Hermione would be writing him this early.

Dear Harry,

I hope this letter doesn't reach you too early in the morning but I was afraid I couldn't wait. I am currently at Ron's right now and the strangest thing happened during dinner. We were all sitting around the table when I could have sworn I heard you call out my name. It was so loud I thought you were right behind me but when I looked you weren't there. It scared me Harry and I'm only wondering if your okay. Please write back as soon as this reaches you. I miss you and Ron's starting to be to much to handle.

Love, Hermione

P.S. I think Ron's gonna write you this morning to ask about the World Cup.

He stared blankly down at the piece of paper and thought about Hermione's words. 'She heard my voice' He thought as he took a seat at his desk and pulled out a piece of paper. Laying down her letter, Harry searched for a quill before he began his reply. Sitting for what seemed to be hours as the sun slowly began to rise, Harry finally folded up his letter to Hermione and attached it to Hedwig right as his Aunt screamed for him.

"Get down here. Vernon wants a word with you." Her voice slid up to him. Patting Hedwig goodbye, he pulled on a loose pair of jeans and t-shirt, then headed downstairs. His foot had barely reached the bottom step when his Uncle pulled him roughly into the Living room. His hand clutched tightly on the front of Harry's shirt, he forced him into the nearest chair and threw a crumpled letter onto his lap.

"Well, don't sit there and stare at it." Vernon bellowed at him causing Harry to jump and smooth out the letter. "Would you care to tell me why I was woken up this morning to a horrible, wretched, bloody owl at my window!" He yelled again, turning a violent purple color. Harry shrugged his shoulders at his Uncle and read the handwriting. It was Ron. And Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he had sent the same energetic owl Sirius gave him. "Well, what does it say?" Vernon walked closer to him. "What do the freaks have to say now?" He had gone too far.

"If I were you, I would stop right there unless you are forgetting who my godfather is?" Harry replied with a cool tone. His uncle stood in silence, the gears grinding in his head as he thought about Harry's threat. Taking the silence as an escape, Harry tore the letter open and started reading. It was filled with the usual complaints of Hermione nagging and random questions about his summer until he reached the last paragraph. Hermione was right, Ron had indeed asked him to come and stay for The World Cup. He folded the letter back up and was just about to leave the Living room when his Uncle caught him.

"Where are you going boy?" The only thing threatening about him was his voice.

"Up stairs to pack. And possibly write a letter to Sirius about how my summer has been going. After all he would want to hear about how great the Quidditch game was that I'm going to." And he chuckled all the way back up to his room.

He had been a nervous ball of jumbles all day while waiting for The Weasley's to arrive. His trunk already packed and his room surprisingly clean, Harry was laying on his bed once again thinking about Hermione. Scrunching his eyes up in concentration, he saw her image pass before his eyes and a warm feeling passed through his body. That was until his Uncle rudely brought him back to earth.

"They're late boy!" His booming voice reached his ears. Letting out a mild groan, Harry rose from his bed and began pulling his things downstairs. Stopping to set his stuff at the bottom step, Vernon was just about to start in on him when the fireplace erupted in green flames. Jumping back to protect his family from any unwanted visitors, Vernon set his angry face on the three figures emerging into his Living room.

Arthur, Fred and George Weasley each stood up from the ash covered floor and started dusting themselves. Sending more ash around Petunia's perfectly cleaned room, her face went into a scowl but she held her tongue. Vernon looked at the three like something you would find on the bottom on their shoe and hastily ushered his family out of the room without another look.

"Harry Potter." Arthur said holding out his hand. Harry stepped forward to shake his hand with an eager grin.

"Mr. Weasley, Fred, George." He cracked both the twins another smile.

"Got your things Harry? I'll send you along with the boys then I'll apperate after." Harry nodded at the Oldest Weasley and followed the twins back to the fireplace. They each took a handful of floo powder from Arthur and shouted their destination. Harry was the last to leave his horrible summer home and took glory in the fact that he wasn't returning anytime soon. Taking one last look around the Living Room, Harry stepped into the fire place and shouted his destination.

"The Burrow!"

Closing his eyes against the fast spinning and numerous fireplaces, he felt himself starting to slow and braced for impact. When none came, he opened his eyes in surprise and found Hermione holding him upright. Her scent of vanilla filled his nose and he suddenly felt at ease.

"Oh Harry, I've missed you so much."