CRASH.

Harry Potter awoke with a start, hands instinctively flying to his eyes to blearily clear his vision. Still in a half-dazed stupor, he glanced over at the bedside clock, only seeing a reddish smudge with a thinner, blacker smudge underneath. Groping his hands across the desktop table carefully, he felt the thin frame of his glasses, hastily placing them on the tip of his nose to glare back at the clock, the cause of his awakening momentarily forgotten.

3:27

Harry swore softly to himself, knowing he would never be getting back to sleep now anytime soon. Looking over his room at number 4 Privet Drive, the usual scattering of robes, school supplies and owl droppings were conspicuously absent, Harry's school things still packed in his trunk and Hedwig, with forced persuasion, out hunting. There were a few more dubious pieces of detritus in the dusty corners of his room, most likely from previous summers spent away from the Dursleys. Harry had been keeping Hedwig out and flying as much as possible and avoiding even a glance at his Hogwarts trunk, these small connections to the wizarding world more then he could bear. Any small link between himself and the world he knew he'd have to return to once he turned 17, or when wizards come of age, would bring on memories of Ron, Hermione, Ginny or Dumbledore. Any of these would make his throat close up and a great veil of sadness to follow him until he forced the memories to go away.

CRASH.

While the first one woke him up, the second crash brought Harry to full alertness, his head swinging to look at the window, as the small owl looked quizzically into the room, the closed window proving too much for it to wrap its head around. After the second attempt of entry, Pigwidgeon finally settled down onto the window sill, giving a small hoot of puzzlement, followed almost immediately by a cry from the other room,

"That ruddy OWL…!"

Harry slid quickly out of bed to scramble over to the window, his fear of re-connecting with the wizarding world much less then the fear of uncle Vernon imprisoning him within his room as had been hinted at more then once in just the first week of summer. Grabbing an owl treat on the way, Harry threw open the window, with just enough force to not make the Dursleys have more reason to yell, silencing Pig's next hoot by shoving the owl treat down its beak. Grabbing the letter from Pigwidgeon's leg, the owl leapt out the window with its boundless energy, looking relieved to be rid of its burden, which as Harry noticed, was bigger then the owl itself. The tightness in his chest slowly unraveled, recognizing Ron's rough scrawl along the outside, the first time since the end of school he had been truly happy to think about his friends and not been reminded of the horrible murder he had witnessed. He walked softly back to his bed, unraveling the letter with shaking fingers, seeing not one, but 2 sheets on top of each other. Licking his dry lips, he turns on the light and begins to read…

Hey Harry,

How's your summer going so far, not bad I hope? The wedding is going to be on the 23rd of July so we'll be around to pick you up a week before hand…

How could he be so cheerful, Harry thought irritably, before the meaning of the message sunk in. He'd be gone from the Dursleys even before his birthday and get to spend at least a happy week with all the Weasley's before… Turning back to the letter, he continued to read

And Hermione is going to be coming around the same time… I think her parents are driving her over, dad's awfully excited about getting to talk to muggles and he's been reading a muggle studies book he got from Diagon alley. Anyway, we're lending a ministry car to pick you up…

Harry gave a small snort, laughing softly to himself at Rufus Scrimgeour's probable expression at knowing one of the ministries cars were driving Harry Potter to the Burrow.

And should be there around 10 am. Please send back Hedwig to show you got this… Mum'd tear her hair out in worry if you don't.

-Ron.

A brief smile crossed Harry's face as he finished Ron's letter, placing it carefully into the drawer in his bedside desk, turning back to survey the other letter underneath. It was much shorter and the writing seemed oddly familiar,

Dear Harry,

I know what you said at the end of last term, and knowing how stubborn you are, it's going to take some coercion on my part to change your mind. I may have not known Dumbledore as well as you did, but we all loved him and all of us WANT to come with you and do whatever it is you have to do, please don't push off those who care about you most. See you on the 16th.

Love,

Ginny

As he read her name, the words came unbidden to his lips, "Ginny…." The tightness in his chest was returning, though now not from sadness but longing. "Ginny," Harry repeated, a single tear forming at the corner of his eye only for his hand to hastily brush it away.

I must not think about Ginny! He commanded himself, stowing her note above Ron's, albeit with more care, as he reached over to turn out the light. Lying back on the bed, he stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, listening to the snores of his adopted family and the cars on the distant motorway. Closing his eyes at last, he slipped peacefully into a deep, dreamless sleep, more at peace than he had been for as long as was remembered.

"WAKE UP YOU LAZY LAYABOUT!"

Same old, Harry thought as his uncle pounded on the closed door, a quick peek at the clock suggesting nothing but his Uncle being his normal self. "I'm coming!" Harry called as he grabbed a pair of trousers and a ratty T-shirt a few sizes too large. Pulling them on quickly, he skidded across the floor to open his door with the purple faced uncle Vernon looking just about ready to yell again.

"You better get to work on the garden soon, it's going to be a scorcher today," Uncle Vernon gave a smirk as he said it, adding in a falsely nice voice. "Oh, and you better keep that ruddy owl of yours quiet or we'll be serving it as your special birthday treat."

Biting back a retort, Harry nodded grimly, knowing all to well that one of his uncles favorite past time's was Harry-goading. I'll be the last one laughing when I'm out of here... Just try and take Hedwig from me after my birthday. He thought with a grin at the mental picture. Regarding Harry with puzzlement under his bushy mustache, Uncle Vernon turned back towards his and Aunt Petunia's room, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'nutter' under is breath.

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The early summer sun beat relentlessly down on Harry's exposed neck, the only thing to quench his thirst a distant memory of a Florean Fortescue's ice cream. His hands were swollen and scratched from Aunt Petunia making him tend her roses without gloves (You'll bruise the stalks!) and even bleeding in places, though the moist, loamy soil was keeping his legs and hands out of the sun, so he dared not go mow the lawn.

Only a few weeks to go, no more, he thought, a grin returning to his face at the thought. As long as they didn't keep it up like this... No, they couldn't keep it up like this, could they? Harry frowned at the rose bush, trying to find more branches to trim and not go any closer to his aunt and uncle on the porch, iced drinks held leisurely in their hands.

Harry gave a faint sigh of relief as a shadow crossed his neck, giving a brief wish for rain, not really caring what caused the respite from the sun, however brief. Hedwig seemed relieved as well when she landed on his shoulder, giving his earlobe an affectionate peck.

"Ahh!" Harry cried, quickly stifling it so not to alert the Dursley's but the ominous clink of a glass on a table indicated it was all in vain.

"What...have...I...told...you...about...that...OWL!" Uncle Vernon's rapidly purpling face appeared over the top of the rose bush. "In the house. NOW."

Knowing the futility of an argument Harry stood painfully to his feet, brushing off the soil and grass covering his pant leg. Uncle Vernon's pointed finger and puce face only increased the command, making any hope of a friendly request thrown out the window. As Harry trudged up the walk towards the house, he could hear the whistling from his uncles flared nostrils, the look of disgust from his aunt enough to tuck Hedwig carefully under his arm. This isn't going to end well, was his last thought as uncle Vernon shoved him through the back door, a sickly sweet leer directed right at Harry.

I think that should be the end of chapter one (though I wanted to make it a bit longer(oh well)) Please Review as feedback is the best thing I can get now : ). If you see any grammatical errors (changing of tense), it's because I learned to write in first person, and that occasionally shows through. I'm about halfway through the second chapter and any/all feedback is appreciated!