One chilly summer evening Privet Drive was quiet and calm. No one suspected anything out of the ordinary. So naturally, nobody knew what was happening in Number 4.

A young wizard had just finished cleaning up his relatives' dinner remains, and was about to get some leftovers for his dinner, when he heard his uncle's booming voice.

"And just what do you think you're doing, boy?" Vernon Dursley said as he saw his nephew about to reach for some leftovers.

"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon, I don't think I can do anymore chores without food for much longer." A boy in clothes three sizes too large answered, while looking down at his large, scuffy trainers.

"Oh no you don't," answered his uncle. "You aren't getting any food until you finish the list I made. Don't even think about writing to your freaky friends. Your wretched godfather's dead. No one cares." Vernon sneered at him. All of a sudden, he grabbed his nephew by his collar and threw him in the cupboard under the stairs.

Harry Potter was used to this kind of treatment, though. He looked around the small space that used to be his room before he got accepted into Hogwarts. He thought about his friends, Ron, Hermione, and Neville, wondering what they were doing this summer.

His fifth year at Hogwarts had ended with Voldemort's return being publicly announced in the Daily Prophet. During the scuffle at the Ministry Lucius Malfoy had been arrested and his godfather, Sirius Black, killed by Bellatrix Lestrange.

Since the beginning of the summer, everything had gone downhill. His uncle had been threatened by ex-Auror Alastor Moody aka. Mad-Eye, at Kings Cross. When he had arrived home he was instantly locked in his room for two days, only being let out to use the loo.

His cousin had been taunting him all summer, since the letter of Sirius' death. Dumbledore had written to him, informing him that he was sorry and he would make sure Sirius would have his name cleared, and his death would not be in vain. When Vernon and Petunia had found out though, it was hell.

Harry had been forced to do more chores than ever this summer. His relatives were wary of leaving their precious son Dudley around him because of the dementor incident last summer.

His trunk had been locked up in the guest room, which was only used once every two or three years, when Aunt Marge, Uncle Vernon's sister, was visiting.

Harry had been smart enough to keep his wand in his pocket though. If it wasn't for that idea, he would have had no way of defending himself should the need arrive.

After remembering all this he could only recall falling into a dreamless sleep. No visions of Voldemort, Cedric, or Sirius, at all. Just darkness.