A/N: Hi there! This is my very first story ever - so be nice :) In addition to that I am not a native Speaker of English.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world do not belong to me but the wonderful J.K. Rowling!


Letters at Privet Drive

Harry Potter, 'the Boy who lived', the hero of the wizarding world, was sitting on the floor of his room at Number 4 Privet Drive sorting through his school trunk. It had been nearly three weeks since he had returned to Surrey from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Three weeks of his usual miserable life at his only living relatives, the Dursleys, and so far he couldn't be bothered to unpack his school trunk.

Looking up from his task, Harry Potter looked around his quite untidy bedroom. To his right on the floor was a stack of school books he had just taken out of his trunk. In one corner of the small room was an empty cage which was normally inhabited by Harry's snowy owl Hedwig, who was out hunting or delivering a letter at the moment. Old editions of 'the Daily Prophet' were scattered around the desk on which lay a parchment with a half-finished potions essay, the homework by Hogwart's evil potions master, Severus Snape. "He would have to finish that one later", sighed Harry. Potions was definitely not one of his strong parts.

Next to the parchment was a stack of letters from his two best friends at Hogwarts, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Ron had started writing those letters to him right after their return from Hogwarts and even though he read every single on of them carefully, he couldn't find it himself to respond to their letters full of compassion for the death of his godfather. Days passing without a reply from his best mate, Ron Weasley had stopped writing to Harry after two weeks. Hermione however was a lot more persistent. She, on the other hand, seemed to be even spurred on by his lack of response and during the last view days her letters had arrived on a nearly daily basis pressing him to answer her.

In fact Harry was quite surprised that she hadn't yet shown up at the front door of Number 4 Privet Drive in her typical Hermione-like fashion to make him answer her questions in person. Thinking about the Dursley's reaction to Hermione appearing at the front step of their house in order to speak to Harry made a very small smile appear on Harry's face. This smile however disappeared immediately when he recognized the thing that was lying next to Hermione's latest letter. It was the small mirror Sirius had given to him last Christmas, the present he hadn't even opened because he didn't want to endanger his godfather's safety. How well that plan had gone! Now Sirius was dead and this was all his, Harry's fault. Dumbledore could tell him over and over that he should not blame himself for Sirius' death, but Harry new better. If he had just been more careful, practiced Occlumency more eagerly as everyone had told him to, then Sirius could be alive now and he would be sitting at the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place at the moment joking with Sirius instead of sitting in his bedroom alone. But his godfather was dead and this was his fault only …

Harry was brought out of his daydream when he heard a soft knock at his window. He looked up and saw Hedwig with a letter in her bill. Slowly he rose from his uncomfortable position on the floor and went across the room to open the window for her. Hedwig flew in, landed on his shoulder and dropped a letter at his feet. From the neatly writing on the envelope, Harry could see that it was yet another letter from Hermione. Bending down, he grudgingly picked up the envelope. In his momentary mood however he didn't even want to read Hermione's words of sympathy and consolation, so he put the letter on the desk … or at least he tried to as Hedwig immediately started picking at him to make him read the letter's content. "Yeah, that is so totally Hermione corrupting my familiar to help her" Reluctantly he opened the envelope and started reading:

Dear Harry,

Are you OK? Why don't you answer my or Ron's letters. I know you must be devastated about what happened at the ministry at the end of last year, but Sirius wouldn't want you to blame yourself.

Harry, I'm really, really worried about you. So please just answer this letter so that I know that you are fine.

Love. Hermione.

PS: Don't make me come and get my answer personally because believe me, Harry James Potter, I will if you don't answer me immediately!

At that moment the sound of the doorbell could be heard wavering up the stairs, followed by the sharp bellow of his uncle "Boy! Come down here this instant!"

Harry knew that if his uncle used that voice, he'd better hurry up or else it could and definitely would end badly for him.

"Strange", he thought as jumped down the steps taking two at a time "I haven't even heard a car pulling up the driveway"

He first thing he saw when he entered foyer was the massive form of his uncle blocking his view of the open front door. But then His uncle turned around, his face as read as a ripe tomato, and finally Harry could see the visitor standing on the threshold. It was a witch he knew pretty well … and it was not Hermione.