Hi, and welcome to my story.  I really hope that you'll A: Enjoy this fic, and B: Read AT LEAST to Chapter 2.  I wanted to stay as close to J.K. Rowling's setup, so I went ahead and added this first chapter.  Really, it isn't needed.  Oh, anything you recognize here is property of J.K. Rowling, anything you don't is property of moi.  Oh, and if and when you review, please tell me how far you've read in the story!

Violet Eyes

Chapter 1:  A Return to the Usual

Harry lounged uncomfortably on his lumpy, sheetless mattress, sweaty from the abnormal temperatures.  Outside the window, heat lines radiated off the blacktop and a small dog panted in the shade of a small front porch.  While Number 4 Privet Drive usually had a blue BMW Z3 convertible parked in the driveway, a birthday gift for Dudley, the rubber tires had been melting, leaving dark spots on the concrete, so even it retired to the grass.  Harry's head, which often worked like a human barometer, was reacting to the weather with horrible pressure headaches.

While known for its balmy winters, it was generally accepted that the English summer thermometer would not pass 26°.  However, the last two weeks the temperature resided around 38°, making the entire Dursley household, not to mention most of Great Britain, fatigued and irritable.  Very few days passed where the news did not report accidents caused by drivers shooting others over minor incidents.  Even the trees and flowers gave up, bowing under the intense atmosphere.

Harry had been sure to bolt the bedroom latch before he lay down, as the aforementioned maladies had not neglected Dudley's temperament.  Harry could hear him through the floorboards, downstairs at that very moment, yelling at his mother.  "Why does Harry get to sit upstairs when I have to do the dishes?!  It's so unfair!  Just because some stupid wizard-"

"You will not use that kind of language in this house, young man!  It is inappropriate!  You know not to talk of Harry's… afflictions.  Besides, Harry has done enough for this family over the years.  It's time he gets a break."  Harry sighed and shook his head, displacing his already unruly hair.  Aunt Petunia would never have stood up for Harry had it not been for Tonk's, the Weasleys', and Mad-Eye Moody's threats.  He was pleased to have this simple protection, though he would be grateful to perform such a mindless task as the dishes, just to relieve the mental anguish he was experiencing.  It would be a long time before he saw any of the aforementioned again, and longer still before he saw Sirius.

He startled at a disturbance by the window, but was calmed to see only Hedwig, rustling her snowy-white wings.  She didn't mind the exhausting weather, and in fact, relished sunning herself in the piercing rays.  An idea of something to pass the time came to him.  He refused to stare at the pile of letters on his scratched desk, opened but unanswered.  "Hedwig, would you mind delivering something for me?" Harry asked, and the owl just cocked her head and hooted softly.

'Ron,'  the letter started,

'How's your summer going?  Mine's the same as usual.  Just spending too much time in my room, avoiding the Dursleys.  Thanks so much for the riding gloves.  They will really help me out this year, especially with my grip on my broom.  I'm sure Slytherin will have the best in equipment (surprise, surprise) so any advantages I can gain are appreciated. 

'I recently received my O.W.L.s results in the mail, how about you?  I have to say, I had quite a range of grades.  I got an O in Defense Against the Dark Arts and an E in Charms, but I got an F in Divinination (at least I was able to predict that grade).  I got E's in both Transfiguration and Herbology, and an O in Care of Magical Creatures (I told Hermione that Hagrid was a good teacher.)  Of course, I got another F in Astronomy, but after what happened with Hagrid during the test last year, could anyone get any higher? 

'Amazingly I got an A in History of Magic and, get this, I GOT AN E IN POTIONS!!  How did that happen?!  I'm sure when Snape got the O.W.L. results he left a grease spot on the ceiling from jumping so high.  I know my score isn't high enough to get into his N.E.W.T. Potions class, but McGonagall knew I needed it to become an Auror, so she helped me out a little.  I can't imagine ever sweet-talking Snape, but she must have done a lot of it to get me into that class.  I'm also taking the N.E.W.T. levels of Defense Against the Dark Arts (like I wouldn't), Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, and Herbology.  I know that's one more N.E.W.T than I need, but I figure I might need an extra one in case I fail one of the other classes.  Bravery can only get you so far, right?

'I've been talking to Hermione about Sirius, but it's not helping much.  He was… well, the closest thing I had to a dad, but now he's gone.  It's like a dream, and I keep expecting to wake up and find a note from him, or a late birthday cake, or maybe a book on Quidditch: anything to tell me that he still thinks of me.  But everyday nothing comes, and inside, I know it won't.  I'm sorry to get all sappy on you like this, but it's something that weighs heavily on my mind.  I wonder if I'll ever find a real family, someone to come home to, to spend the holidays with.  But it seems I never will.

On a livelier note: your gloves are definitely the best birthday gift I got this year.  You should see what Hermione sent me.  It's a cleaning trunk!  I mean, it's useful and all, but it's like getting… well, a cleaning trunk for my birthday!   At least I can finally wear some fresh laundry..  And it'll be bloody useful back at school. 

Well, I won't bore you with any more small talk, but I do hope I'll hear from you before school starts again.  I hope you're having fun this summer and…'  Harry paused here and gnawed the end of the quill.  Ending letters was never his strong suit.  '…that Fred and George aren't playing too many tricks on you.'  There.  Funny and a good wrap-up. 

'Your friend,

Harry'

Harry sealed the letter using red wax and a generic "P" stamp and tied it gently to Hedwig's leg.  "You know where to go," he told her, and she hooted, then rubbed her beak gently on his cheek in reply.  "Just make sure you get back before I have to leave.  I'd hate to see you have to stay with the Dursleys all year."  The owl ruffled her feathers and looked annoyed, but indeed flapped away from the window at a faster-than-usual gait.  He watched her grow smaller on the horizon, until the glaring light left cobalt ghosts when he closed his eyes.  He was interrupted by a horrible rumbling from his stomach.  He hadn't eaten in hours: strangely he couldn't remember the last time he had.  He lifted his secret floorboard to find only the birthday cakes that Hagrid had sent.  He knew that, even if they were fresh, they still hardly qualified as edible.  He resigned to having to make a trip downstairs.

While sneaking across the living room, Uncle Vernon was the first and only to notice him.  He turned away from whatever mindless drivel he was watching on the tele to look Harry over.  "Tired of lazing around that mess you call a room?  I have half a mind to move you back into the cupboard."

"Actually, I was avoiding you," Harry retorted angrily.  "But I've obviously failed miserably."  He no longer feared the retributions of the Dursleys.  Now he had the upper hand.

           "You don't deserve a room in this house, boy.  I've half a mind to throw you out on your-"

"That sounds like a wonderful thing to put in a letter, don't you think?"  Harry grinned slyly.  "A letter to my wizard friends?"  Uncle Vernon turned a strange shade of red and turned back to the dancing pictures without commenting.  Harry found the kitchen void of Dursleys, and was pleased that he could make himself a sandwich in peace.  As he spread mayonnaise over the bread, he caught a quick glimpse of the scar etched deeply in his hand: 'I will not tell lies.'  He remembered the cruel teacher that gave him that scar, and silently prayed that this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would be capable, unlike most of them.  'Isn't it ironic that most D.A.D.A. teachers are supposed to protect us from evil, yet are irrevocably evil themselves?' he thought.

As he made his way upstairs with his sandwich, he noticed a pair of beady eyes watching him from behind a cracked door.  "Hello Dudley," Harry called nonchalantly, and the eyes quickly disappeared, leaving only a strange whimpering sound coming from inside the darkened room.

***

Harry waited restlessly on the corner, hoping that the Weasleys would not be late.  Harry didn't need to pull Ron's folded, crinkled letter from his pocket to ensure the time, but did so anyway, out of both doubt and boredom. 

'Dear Harry,

Obviously, everything here is a bore as well.  I've only been helping Fred and George at their joke shop.  I'm unpaid labor, but I must say, it's given me a chance to learn and avoid all their tricks and jokes.  They haven't pranked me since the beginning of July!

The Order is hard at work to find He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but so far, no luck.  It seems that once again he's gone into hiding.  However, they've become even more secretive than before, if that's possible.  Mum and dad disappear at all hours and keep whispering to each other.  Not even Charlie and Bill know what's going on.

'About Sirius:  I just don't know what to say.  It was terrible to lose him, especially in the way that you did.  Please don't feel guilty, because Sirius loved you and wouldn't want you feeling like his end was your fault.  Instead, consider what good advice he gave you while he was here, and try to follow that.  You need a challenge, Harry, to keep your mind off last school year.  That's why I sent the book of puzzles.  Hopefully it will occupy your time.  I know that this is pretty bad advice, nothing like what Hermione writes, I'm sure, but I'm no good with this stuff, you know that.

'Mum and dad will pick you up the day before we're supposed to leave, so that we can go get all of our supplies.  Just meet us at the corner of Daelia and Persimmon Street on August 31st at 1:30 and we'll be there to pick you up.

Ron'

Harry sighed and did his best to shield his eyes from the blazing sun.  There were no cars coming from any direction, and it was already 1:45.  'Looks like I'll be waiting a little longer.'  The weather was certainly not optimal for waiting: it was the hottest that Harry had ever been in his life.  He was even thankful to be wearing Dudley's hand-me-downs: the oversized, dingy t-shirt was loose enough to let in plenty of air.  The longer he was forced to sit in the intolerable heat, the more irritated he became.  He began to wonder how the Weasleys would react if, when they finally did arrive, Harry had returned to the Dursleys'.  At least it was air conditioned.

  Suddenly Harry heard shrill horn honking in the distance.  A black sedan was speeding down the street, veering crazily from one lane to another.  As it got closer to him, the honking became more insistent and the driving more irrational*.  The vehicle hopped the crumbling curve easily, barely missed the street signpost, and, had he not dove into the road, Harry would most certainly have been clipped.  Screeching brakes left dark tire marks down the sidewalk and the smell of burnt rubber in the air.

The driver side door swung open to reveal a laughing, red-faced Ginny.  "This thing is bloody brill, Harry!  Why didn't you tell me cars were so fun?!"  He grabbed his heaving chest, trying to recover after his almost-near-death experience.  'She's not even old enough to drive a car!'

"I wouldn't know," he finally replied.  "I've never driven one."  'Though I'd like to know why you are,' he pondered silently.  He looked at the rest of the redheaded passengers in the cars, all varying shades of greenish-gray. 

"Yeah, fun for her," Ron muttered under his breath, then scooted over to make room for Harry on the leather bench seat. 

Mr. Weasley got out of the passenger seat and began loading his baggage into the magically enlarged trunk.  "It was difficult, but I finally talked the Ministry into letting me borrow one of their auto-moobiles."  Harry smiled, but did not attempt to correct his grammatical error.  "Now Ginny's going to ruin all my hard work by wrecking it.  She's worse than the twins behind the wheel." 

Although Mrs. Weasley stiffened at the mention of her two sons, Ginny just rolled her eyes and revved the engine impatiently.  "Let's go!"

The trip to London was fast, albeit terrifying.  Harry whispered in Ron's ear if they were using some sort of spell to travel faster, but Ron lifted his queasy head from between his knees and shook it.  Other cars were mere blurs beside them and Mrs. Weasley's hands were white from gripping the door handle so hard.  Once in the city, she careened around the sharp turns, ignoring the honking drivers she cut off.  Harry worried about Hedwig, who was currently being jostled back and forth in the trunk. 

They arrived in front of the Leaky Cauldron far sooner than Harry ever thought possible.  Mr. Weasley was sure to tell Ginny that he would park the car, and to meet him inside Diagon Alley.  Once past the complicated brick façade, Mrs. Weasley pulled out the supply lists.  "Well, Harry, you're going to need fire-and-acid-repellent dragonskin gloves for your Potions class and probably some new dress shirts."  She eyed his graying Oxford critically.  "Also, it seems that another dance will be held, as you need dress robes.  Would you like new ones, or would you prefer the ones from the other year?"

"Those green ones I have are just fine." 

Mrs. Weasley pulled out a quill and began marking off items as she named them.  She told him reluctantly "Ron, you'll also be needing some dress robes-"

"Oh, no I won't."  Fred and George, sticking to their word, had bought Ron a stylish set of royal blue robes, though they refused to divulge their benefactor.  They were far nicer than any used robes Mrs. Weasley would provide.

His mother, unaware of this transaction, placed her hand on her hip.  "I won't have you wearing those ones I bought you for the Yule Ball.  They could have been used again, but you positively destroyed those.  Ragged sleeves, uneven hem…"  Potter laughed as Mrs. Weasley continued to name the robe's faults, but also felt a twinge of jealousy.  Despite its annoyances, he longed for a bit of mothering.

"We'll also need some books, and Ginny, you said you needed a new cauldron, didn't you?"  The group set down the alley, stopping in different shops to retrieve the requested items.

They even visited the twins' shop, filled that day with children and adults alike.  It seemed that many people wanted to pull jokes on their friends and get revenge on their enemies.  Harry enjoyed seeing the different items on sale, most of which were original inventions of the two brothers.  However, once Fred and George began arguing with Mrs. Weasley about returning to school, he felt a sudden need to get out of the crammed store. 

Harry searched the bustling street, but saw none of his other classmates and friends.  Hermione would have met them there, but she was visiting Viktor Krum at his summer home and would not be returning until the day school started.  Harry had already received a picture with Viktor flying his broom and Hermione hanging on the back for dear life.  As he watched, Hermione's face would change from horror to nausea, and occasionally beg Viktor to "land this crazy thing!"

When he showed it to Ron, the redhead looked ill.  "Well, they seem to be having fun," he sniffed.  'Did he really sound  jealous or am I imagining it?'  Harry wondered.  'He couldn't like… no, of course not.'  But he still wasn't convinced.

By the time they left Diagon Alley, both the boys were loaded down with more books than ever before and everyone had a huge bag of Droobles Best Blowing Gum, a present from Harry.  "So Harry, do you think you'll be able to read all of those?"  Ginny asked teasingly.  Harry, looked over at her, surprised she was acting so flirtatious.  He thought she'd given up her childish crush years ago.  However, when he looked at her freckled face, he saw no sign of attraction whatsoever, but rather the creases of confusion.  However, as she quickly read him, she raised an eyebrow.  "Just because a girl talks to you, doesn't mean she's attracted to you.  I would think you of all people would know that."

"That wasn't what I was thinking," he lied, checking out her slender physique, then silently reprimanding himself.  "And to answer your question: I bought a few Crag-notes."

"Don't let mom see you with those.  She's liable to send you a Howler." 

Harry laughed.  "I'd rather get a Howler from her than have Filch find them.  He'd probably lock me in the dungeon."

Ron, who'd been walking ahead slowed down and joined the conversation.  "Sounds more like something Snape would do.  How are you going to survive his N.E.W.T. class?"

"What?!"  shrieked Ginny.  "You mean, you had a choice to take that class, and you actually decided to?!"

"I need it to be an Auror!  I thought Hermione was rude when I broke the news to her, and she's taking the class.  But you two definitely beat her reaction!"  He did his best to look offended, but was unable to hide his toothy grin.

"If I were you, Harry," replied Ginny, shaking her head, "I'd pick a different profession."

*Irrational driving experience inspired by trips in my ex-boyfriend's car lol