A step. And two. She stopped. Turned around quickly. Held out her arm. Spoke two words. He fell to the ground. A lifeless body. The life swiped away. She grinned to herself and blew on the end of her wand as cowboys did to their guns in the old movies.

"Wonderful, my child." Said a sly, slithering and hissing voice. She grinned.

"Thank you master." She said quietly.

"You are ready. Ready." He said. The man in the chair facing the fireplace laughed sadistically, the girl joining in.

* * * *

Harry Potter yawned and sat up slowly. The Dursleys had moved him back to his room under the stairs after he came home from school after his 7th year. Harry Potter was a wizard who had attended the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry taught by possibly the greatest wizard who ever lived, Albus Dumbledore. His 7th year was his last year at Hogwarts, much do his dismay. Great. Another day at the Dursleys, he thought miserably, At least they let me keep my wand and broomstick and such, this time. He crawled out of bed right as Mrs. Dursley knocked on his door.

"WAKE UP YOU LAZY BUM!" She shouted, "AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD PRESENT FOR DUDLEY. WAKE UP AND COOK SOME BREAKFAST."

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes at the door, secretly thankful that she couldn't see that action, "I'm awake!" He shouted back, And I'm still being forced to wear Dudley's old clothes. Too bad they won't let me wear stuff from when he was only half of what he is now... He thought, smiling to himself as he remembered how much Dudley had grown in the past few years -- more out than up.

Harry slowly pulled on a ratty blue sweatshirt, more than ten sizes too big, and a pair of jeans, about seven sizes too big. He searched madly around for a belt, finally finding one under his mattress (the Dursleys had taken away his bed after he came back from his 5th year of Hogwarts). In the past few years, Harry had grown considerably. His messy hair now hung below his ears. His green eyes still sparkled brilliantly, and possibly shone even brighter as of 6th year, the year he had begun to date Hermione Granger. Hermione had been his friend, along with Ron Weasley, since his 1st year, but a romantic interest hadn't grown until Hermione dumped Viktor Krumm in their 5th year of school.

"Hello Auntie!" Harry said cheerfully to his Aunt Petunia. He had grown braver since his hooking up with Hermione, and now had no problem speaking to his Muggle guardians, "How's that large son of yours doing?"

"Take that back you miserable excuse for a nephew!" She shouted angrily, pointing a wooden stirring spoon threateningly at Harry. Harry smiled cheekily and began cooking bacon, secretly adding fruit flavorings, Dudley's least favorite flavors.

"Breakfast. . .is served." He said, as Dudley came stomping into the kitchen. Of course, he wasn't really stomping, but each step he took shook the house, and stomping was the word to best describe the walk. Dudley immediately spotted the presents sitting on the table. He was now eighteen years old, but had the IQ of a ten year old.

"Mommy! I've got presents!" He shouted merrily, beginning to count them, "Forty-five. That's better than last year, isn't it? Last year I had Forty-nine!" Mrs. Dursley glanced at Harry as if warning him not to say anything and smiled at her son.

"Yes, Dudley! That's an excellent number of presents! This large one here is from your Mommy!" She said sneering at Harry. He took the hint and waltzed back into his room under the stairs. He pulled out a piece of parchment and quill and began writing.

Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,

I am very pleased that you wish for me to teach this coming year. I was very saddened to think that this past year was my last year at the great Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I enjoyed Hogwarts very much, even my adventures that wounded me and my friends. Sorry if that sounded sadistic. I would very much love to teach, just as long as it's not a partnership in Potions with Snape. I'm sure you understand my reasoning for not wanting to teach with him, my 6th year wasn't exactly pleasant. Hermione and Ron give their best wishes. I hope to hear from you.

Yours truly,

Harry Potter

He paused and sighed, reading over the letter. It was poorly written, but that didn't matter. It got his point across. Harry pulled his owl, Hedwig, out of her cage and attached the letter to her leg, "Take this to Dumbledore, Hedwig." He said as the owl hooted and flew out the secret hole Harry had dug a few years back.