Hello, my name is SJ, and this is my fanfiction. It has been 6 years sine I started it, and I think we are nearly there now!

Considering I started it so long ago, my writing style developed a lot over that time. For this reason I have decided to rewrite all chapters as I would now, in order to give it consistency. If a chapter says "Updated" or "Complete" it means I have made any changes, it has been worked on by my kind beta checker and should be ready for reading. I'm hoping this process will be completed by June 2010, with the story and its sequel being finished some time in 2011. If there is no tag, then apologies for errors, paragraph size etc.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did I wouldn't have written books 6 & 7. What a disappointment. No money is being made. Harry Potter is property of J K Rowling, Warnerbrothers, Scolastic etc.

Harry Potter? The best way to know who he is, is to hear things as they are. First, we need to go back to the start, before that bit, and then a little bit more to the left.

Here

Deep in space, past that smelly bit and past that bit with the funny name, are thousands? No, millions! Of stars and planets swirling round in their own sense, blissfully unaware of each other. Most of them have a rock here or there, some dust, and maybe if they are lucky, a couple of stones.

Some of the special planets however, are teaming with life. Life itself starts off small, but once people become aware of the fact they are alive, they decide they like it, and set about trying to keep things that way. And so it grows.

Some life is big, whilst some is small. There is the big yet dull kind, such as a tree, which may sit there for decades and ponder about the great mysteries of Astrophysics, or more likely, wonder what the weather will be like. Then you get the smaller more exciting kind such as mice.

Mice by all definitions are very alive. They spend their time running round, always on the move. Sometimes running from cats, before they hide behind a corner and jump out wielding a frying pan several times larger than themselves. Whilst others spend their time concocting elaborate cheese thieving plans.

To look at all life would be stupid, and rather boring, after all no one wants to look at a teacher. So Instead it is best only to look at the most important of them. For a hypothetical purpose, let's choose a small planet called Earth. Earth has been around for a while and the people alive there are pretty certain of what they want to be, in some sense. A few wars have happened here and there, a couple of people got a bit angry, but generally things went on

Now Magic, that is the interesting part. Somewhere along the way some bright spark said "Hey, I wonder what would happen if I did this…" and so magic was made. This leads to Harry Potter. He was one of these magic folk. He went to a magic school and had magic friends and, if it had been invented, he would most definitely have eaten magical breakfast. He was sixteen years old today, and lying on his back in a dingy little room in a very typical street in a place not too far away, called Surrey. He tried to mind his business and get along with things but the Dark Lord's people and fat relatives generally got in the way. Such as today.

"GET DOWN HERE BOY!" yelled uncle Vernon from the bottom of the stairs, interrupting what few peaceful moments Harry managed to find as usual. It was Harry Potter's sixteenth birthday and the middle of summer, or the muggle season, as he liked to call it, because essentially that is what it was. He lay for a moment longer, in mild annoyance. He had at some point in his earlier life discovered that by placing a set of stairs between himself and his uncle he could greatly reduce the possibility of an encounter.

It was a well known fact that fat people avoid walking up stairs when possible.

Nonetheless, after deciding that peace would only elude him if he continued to ignore the gruff bellowing of his uncle, he dragged himself out of his bed, hastily pulled on some clothes, and walked out of the room ready to face what was probably going to be his worst birthday ever.

And we don't mean a bad birthday, like those bratty girls on TV angry that someone wore the wrong coloured dress to their "sweet 16". To summarize, Voldemort, an evil, insane and overly dramatic dark lord had made his return known to the wizarding world. Add to this the fact his godfather Sirius had died in some sort of strange dark portal related adventure, and Harry was feeling rather gloomier than usual.

"What am I supposed to have done now?" He asked in exasperation as he rolled his eyes and made his way downstairs. "Blown up something? Magically made you stupid did I?" Harry muttered as he slumped towards the bellowing spit machine of an uncle.

"Don't play silly buggers with me. Look out THERE!" uncle Vernon roared as he roughly pointed one of his fat sausages like fingers towards the kitchen window that aunt Petunia had her bony face squashed against.

"So come on then, what did I do his time? Glued her face to the window?" he asked as he freely let the sarcasm hang in the air.

"Don't act stupid with me boy, look at the weather! Look! This is all your fault! You have been doing IT haven't you!" He said as his anger reached such a peak that it caused him to go into the raspy whispering he normally only achieved when choking on something, like the big lump of ham at dinner last night. Harry, who was now interested in what he was supposed to have done, walked over to the window to look.

As he stared outside he ran a checklist of things which would definitely be worthy of remark. Wizards? None. A spooky house appearing where one had never appeared before? None. Dudley doing exercise? Definitely not. It was just a typical boring day, a rainy one at that. Harry turned back to face his uncle, who had managed to appear right next to him without being heard. He guessed it had something to do with cushions of fat on his toes allowing him to walk quietly.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" Harry asked hopelessly. Uncle Vernon's face seemed to inflate like a purple party balloon in indignation at what he obviously thought was Harry's impertinence.

"Are you blind? It never rains! Never! This is all your fault. Rain in July? I don't think so. Not in my neighbourhood. Not if I have anything to say about it. You had better stop whatever it is you are doing right now…"

"Breathing?" Harry interrupted.

"I'm not playing here!" Uncle Vernon hissed as he got a level up in anger.

"No you're just spitting on me." He used the momentarily silence that followed to contemplate the absurdity of the entire conversation. "And of course it rains in July" He added. "This is England!"

One good thing he had to say was that, whilst this year was like any other in the sense that he got shouted at, moaned at for the speed at which the grass grew, and blamed for the fact dogs kept pooing on the front lawn, he couldn't possibly miss the change in their behaviour. They seemed almost afraid to actually punish him or make him do chores, and so it was for this reason he didn't mind being "a sarcastic git" or so the phrase was.

There was a good reason to this. Around a month ago a team of wizards happened to make it apparent that if the Dursley's enjoyed their lives, then they would have to treat Harry better. Their new program of Harry treatment became apparent on his second night back. They had ordered some Chinese food in celebration of Dudley breaking someone's jaw.

Whilst Harry lay in his bedroom trying to calculate how many cheese slices he could fit into his bedroom, he was called downstairs. According to his aunt, they had finished dinner and had apparently ordered too much food. Thus some of it would need to be thrown away. And Harry was the man for the job. After an exchange of understanding from his aunt, he waited for them to excuse themselves into the living room, before hastily tearing open several containers of Chinese food and shoveling it down it a manner which could best be described as Dudley-esque.

After licking the last scraps from the containers, he did indeed throw the rubbish away. His aunt was also careful enough to make a whisper that said this would be the beginning of some sort of contract, with his side of the bargain being that he wrote at least every three days to his friends at the Order, informing them of his good health and treatment, and thus ensured the Dursley's a magic free lifestyle. Or at least as magic free as you could get with Harry around.

The new-found plan worked fine with Harry, and his only regret was that someone hadn't threatened them sooner. All this, however, couldn't make up for the loss of Sirius. Nothing probably could, unless of course it turned out that his late father James had another hairy ex con best friend who was looking for the company of a young boy. On second thought, Harry actually hoped that wasn't the case.

As he lay in his bedroom, ticking away the seconds in his mind, he couldn't help but feel anger arise in him. When he was younger, a lonely birthday was ok. It was all he had ever known. What other type of birthday could there be? Now however, laying on his own when his friends, Hermione, Remus, and everyone else he cared about were so far away, he felt bitter. He had tasted what things could be like, and without even so much as a "Happy Birthday Harry" in a letter, he felt abandoned like yesterdays jam.

For no reason other than hope he sat up and looked out the window for a moment, wondering if someone was out there now, standing guard over him. All he saw was the rain and the neighbour's dog doing another poo in the flower bed. "Great" he thought as he slumped back onto his bed. "My birthday and even the weather is celebrating!"

After a mind numbing twenty minutes had passed, the shouts from downstairs gradually faded until they reached their normal daily level. This meant that Dudley had started breakfast and Petunia had found something to be nosey about. He eventually pulled himself up off his bed and sat staring at his glum reflection in the mirror, as if asking it, what he should do. Something seemed a little different, although he couldn't place his finger on it. The furniture was in the same place, it wasn't his reflection in the full-length mirror that was different; he was still scruffy, slightly scrawny, and short sighed. Then he spotted it: It was the four owls that were bobbing outside his window waiting to be let in.

Harry pulled himself up off his bed and reached over to the window to let the owls in. They all immediately flew over and landed on his bed, where they had a brief argument over who would be seen by Harry first. The first one, which was a snowy white that he knew as his own, gave the two owls to her left a hard push and nudged her way forward right next to Harry, probably so he could give her some treats and tell her she was good for killing mice.

The one he saw rolling on the bed, having been apparently disorientated, was called Pigwidgeon, or Pig, and belonged to his best friend Ron Weasley. He hoped it hadn't obtained any sort of brain damage, although after thinking on this he realised it probably wouldn't make much difference to the overly excitable owl. The last two which looked more sensible than either Hedwig, or Pig, were barn owls, which Harry guessed came from Hogwarts.

In the end, Harry reached for Pig's letter as it was very large compared to the owl, and did actually run the risk of suffocating or squashing its carrier if left unattended. He untied the letter and it gave a small hoot of thanks before rolling to rest on its back, where it tried to gets its breath back from the long flight. He tore the letter open and took out the parchment. He read it through twice, looking for any hidden meanings about Voldemort.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday mate. Me and Hermione are here at the you know where. I'm writing to say that we are coming to pick you up tomorrow at about 11:00. I will give you my present then. I can't really tell you much at the moment with things as they are. You know how it is. We should get our O.W.L results any day now. They said July and it is the end of July so you might actually have them by the time my rubbishy owl finds you. He probably got lost again. Last week when I sent a letter it took him three hours to even find the window. You should see Hermione, She's mental! Running all over the place and looking out the window for owls. That girl's bonkers. She practically had a party when a blackbird landed outside her window. She thought the results were here. Anyway I will see you tomorrow

From

Ron

Harry put down the letter and took a deep breath. O.W.L. results were just about the last thing on his mind, other than what Snape would look like in a hula skirt. He had wondered that once, and straight after wished that he hadn't. He made sure that it was always the last thing on his mind. Also, to his disappointment, there hadn't been any information on any dark doings, but at least this time they had bothered to say when they were coming to get him. Last time he had just been left with the frustratingly vague date of "soon".

He cautiously reached for the first of the two barn owls. Unless the O.W.L results were late, and he had suddenly become very popular then the chances were that one of these contained the information as to whether or not he would be able to pursue his career as an Auror. He took the letter from the barn owl that had hoped up onto his leg. As soon as it was untied, the owl flew back off, telling him this was going to be the kind of letter that didn't need a response. As he turned over the yellow parchment in his hand he could see the Hogwarts crest sealing it in crimson wax.

He suddenly found that his throat had gone very dry. It wasn't that he was scared; it was more anxiety and worry that he would disappoint everyone. He had to calm himself for a minute as he realised his hand was shaking slightly. "Don't be stupid. You're not Hermione, you don't care" he said to himself. "It is just a few words written down. It won't hurt you. It is insignificant. It is only what you have spent the last five years of your life doing… Oh dear" he thought as he failed to trick himself. If he was this nervous, then he felt genuinely sorry for Hermione. She was probably on a tightrope, wobbling over the void of insanity below.

He decided that the best thing to do would just be to get it over with quickly. Once it's gone it's gone. Quick and painful or slow and painful… the former made more sense.

He tore open the seal and slid out the paper that was inside. It had been folded into three, and as he unfolded it he was met by the official Hogwarts seal, this time printed on the top centre and bottom right hand corner. Anyone clever knows that the more official seals it has, the more important it is. It was quite short, but Harry spent some time reading it and re-reading it. Just to check… No matter how many times he went over it, it wasn't what he hoped for.

Dear Harry James Potter

We are writing to you in regards to you Ordinary Wizarding Levels. We would like to thank you for taking your time to sit the examinations. Please find listed below your examination results. Should you have any questions or complaints regarding the grading, please contact the official wizard grading and examination board.

Yours Sincerely

Graham Tufflethrump

Ordinary Wizarding Level examination results for Harry James Potter.

Astronomy……………………………………………Acceptable………

Care of Magical Creatures…………………..……..…Outstanding………

Charms………………………………………………..Exceeds expectation………

Defence against the Dark Arts…………………………Outstanding………

Divinations……………………………………………Troll………

Herbology…………………………………………….Exceeds Expectation………

History of Magic…………………………………...…Acceptable………

Potions………………………………………………...Exceeds Expectation………

Transfiguration………………………………………..Outstanding………

Harry couldn't believe what was he saw. "Outstanding" in C.O.M.C. He couldn't wait to show Hagrid this. It would prove once and for all that he wasn't a rubbish teacher. At least Hagrid would have some students passing with high marks. Maybe Ron got Outstanding as well. Hermione undoubtedly did. D.A.D.A wasn't that much of a surprise, but Harry was still relieved that having rubbish teachers in second and fifth year hadn't bought his final grade down. He considered sending this to Professor Umbridge to show that she was wrong, but decided against it in case she somehow applied to have it changed. Just because she was disgraced and mentally disturbed after the centaur incident, didn't mean she couldn't pull a few strings. T! A "Troll" in divination's. Well it wasn't exactly unexpected. Still, Harry thought, it would make Fred and George proud

"Wow" He said as he scanned further down. I actually passed in History of Magic!

Potions? He couldn't believe it, he got an E! There must have been a mistake or something. He was certain he was going to fail. But then, the more Harry thought about it, the more obvious it seemed to become. If the greasy-haired git of a teacher didn't think very much of Harry, then it wouldn't have been difficult to "exceed expectations." Indeed, Harry likely exceeded Snape's expectations every time he managed to dress himself properly.

Harry couldn't believe his luck when he got an outstanding in transfiguration. He remembered the exam going quiet well but for some reason suspected that his butter dish wasn't still meant to have bat wings…

Overall, Harry was quiet please with the grades he got. He didn't get what he had hoped, for which was all outstanding, but hoping for something and expecting it are quite different. Then it hit him. Like a tidal wave of disappointment. If his memory served him correctly then he had needed an Outstanding in Potions. An Exceeds Expectations, though better than he had thought possible, wasn't as good as an Outstanding, and without the grades he wouldn't be able to become an Auror.

"At least my grades aren't bad enough to deserve some verbal ear punishment from Hermione's constant comments of disappointment." He said as he tried to look on the nonexistent bright side. Being a professional Quidditch player would be ok… But what if they wouldn't accept him? He could imagine it all vividly. Standing and smiling, having just won the Quidditch world cup. Youngest ever. But then Rita Skeeter would come over and snatch it off him in the middle off his glory. She then pulled out a copy the daily prophet which was titled "Pitiful Potter." And everyone would hate him because he failed.

"That's ridiculous." He thought once he came to his senses. "Rita is banned from attending the Quidditch world cup."

After putting down the letter and trying to take his mind of it, he turned to the one remaining owl. He could guess that it was going to be about the new school year and new books, although it didn't stop him sulking. He opened the envelope to find a piece or parchment and another smaller, slightly fatter envelope inside.

Dear Mr. Potter

Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross Station, platform 9 and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock. A list of books required for the next year is enclosed

Yours sincerely

Professor M. McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry looked down the list of books, which was shorter than in previous years. He was due to be starting his N.E.W.T's this year, which meant he dropped some subjects. He had dropped Divination's, which was good because, looking at his abysmal test results, there would be no point in doing anyway. He would hardly be the next great prophet by any standards.

He also dropped History of Magic, Astronomy and Herbology. This left him with five subjects, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Defence against the Dark Arts, Potions and Transfiguration. The Books He needed were:

The Dark Arts and How to Stop Them by Quentin Trimble

Transfiguration for the Advanced by Emeric Switch

Perfect Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Charming Charms by Adalbert Waffling

Magical Beasts and How to Tame Them by Newt Scamander

Harry then took out the smaller Envelope. This one didn't have a Hogwarts seal on it but displayed a similar looking one with a letter "D" on it. Harry tore it open carefully. Inside it read

Dear Harry

I am writing to you to tell you that I have decided to appoint you as a new Gryffindor Prefect. I am aware that Gryffindor already has two prefects and that they are traditionally assigned at the start of your last school year, but it has come to my attention that there was unacceptable behaviour from a certain Slytherin Prefect last term. As a result, I have had to revoke from them their position as a Prefect. Unfortunately, I was unable to find another suitable Slytherin to fill this place, and so I am writing to tell you that, unless you reply stating otherwise, I have decided that we will have three Gryffindor prefects this year instead, and I would be honoured if you would accept this role. I hope I can rely on your high standard of behaviour and expect you to be a good role model to the new students. Prefects are expected to report to my office at the start of term for instructions. I look forward to seeing you there this September.

From

Albus Dumbledore

Ps. I thought that you might like to know, since I am the headmaster of Hogwarts I am entitled to review the grades of the students and whilst it is not within my power to give you an outstanding grade in potions, I am please to inform you that. due to a lack of interest from other students, in order to have enough people to run the class professor Severus Snape has agreed to lower his grade boundaries so that he will also agree to teach students whom obtained an Exceeds Expectations. I cannot, however, promise that he will alter his unique style of teaching, especially in regards to you. I hope you will continue your pursuit and not be deterred by the fact that you didn't achieve all the necessary grades that you would have needed. Congratulations on your grades. Pity about the divinations though. I would have thought you would get at least an acceptable.

Harry very happily put down the letter and just let himself sit there for a moment and reflect. Admittedly, that was what much of his time consisted of. Sitting, reflecting. But this was the good kind that usually involves self praise such as

"Congratulations supreme master Potter. You truly are a king of men." After he had literally given himself a pat on the back, he returned to the envelope and delicately extracted the shiny prefect badge. Whilst he had seen them everyday pinned to Ron and Hermione's uniform, he had to say, his looked shinier, and more impressive.

He held up the new badge to his old t-shirt and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

"Looking good Potter, The girls can't resist a man with power" Harry laughed to himself as he placed it back down on his bed. He wrote back to Ron and Hermione saying he would be ready for tomorrow. He carefully avoided mentioning the prefectism because he wanted to tell them when he could see them face to face. Once he had checked it over he tied it to Hedwig, who after a quick drink and some food flew off. He sat back down on his bed and thought; perhaps this wouldn't be such a bad birthday after all…

Whilst the day had started off quite nicely for him, (actually it was better than quite nice, it was probably the best day he had ever spent at privet drive), it didn't exactly get much better. However it wasn't bad. As far as Harry was concerned, when the Dursley's weren't shouting at him or threatening him, he should probably be thankful. He spent a good part of the day weeding out the garden. The Dursley's had decided that this was a form of punishment for making it rain.

"So you think a bit of rain will get you out of doing chores do you? It won't! You can go out there and do it in the rain. Looks like your plan has backfired lad!" His Uncle had said to him with a manic laugh.

In fact, it was actually better than working in the sun. Where the typical Privet Drive sun had baked the ground hard for the last two weeks, the rare occurrence of rain softened it, like stale bread in a pond. He did get very muddy, but there was always a personal satisfaction in having small amounts of fun when the Dursley's thought they were punishing him. There was also fun to be had from kicking off his muddy shoes by the back door, flicking mud everywhere in the process.

The remainder of his birthday went past most uneventfully, apart from being invited around Mrs. Figg's house for the second time in the week. She often had him round for dinner these days, whilst the Dursley's were under the pretence that he was going to "do hard work and have no fun what so ever" as she put it. Harry was glad of this. Rather than staying at home, doing nothing but gardening, he got to sit round Mrs. Figg's house and talk about the wizarding world. She didn't really know that much about the Order business, or if she did she didn't let on, but Dumbledore had apparently felt that Harry needed to be kept in touch with so that he didn't get disgruntled and run off, as Miss fig had politely put it.

On this particular occasion He was surprised to hear that she had to go out and do some emergency shopping, and because of this Tonks had to come around and keep an eye on him to avoid a repeat of last year. The good thing about Tonks, Harry found, is that because she wasn't as old as most of the adults, she still had a good sense of what is fun. Therefore, after a few minutes of gentle hinting, she asked Harry if they could order a Pizza. She said she had only ever gotten to do it once because it was the sort of thing her mother frowned upon, and since she left home she had never lived anywhere with muggle telephones.

He sometimes wondered to himself how such a (to put it frankly) weird and excitable girl like her could have strict parents. Half an hour later as they sat round half watching a film and eating pizza, she explained how they were going to be travelling tomorrow and accidentally let slip that Harry was going to have a late birthday party of some sort.

After about another half hour later, her shift finished and Remus turned up to come and keep watch. When Remus asked if Harry had eaten, he had the intelligence to say no, and so half an hour later another pizza was delivered by a vaguely puzzled looking delivery boy.

As they ate Harry decided to ask Remus something that had been on his mind for a long time.

"Last year I saw one of Snape's memories of you and my father just after your exams, and my father was very…unfair." Remus didn't respond to this, but just made a sort of coughing sound and excused himself to get a drink. Harry got the hint that Remus did not want to discuss it, and so did not approach the subject again.

For the remainder of the evening they both sat in silence watching the rest of the film. Just as it finished, there was a sound outside as the front door clicked. In an instant Remus was on his feet, wand in hand. He cast a quick warning glance towards Harry as he mouthed the word "Death eaters." Harry's heart skipped a beat, and then made up for it by beating lots in a short amount of time. He had always known that an attack was possible over the summer, but with Order supervision he didn't expect to have Death Eaters attacking him, let alone sneaking outside an old ladies house late at night.

Remus approached the door with caution, side stepping as he clung to the hall and tried to move in the shadows, so as not to be seen through the patterned glass of the front door. Harry stood behind him. He seemed to feel his senses heighten. He became aware of every sound he made, every movement, and he realised just how fluffy the carpet really was. He gingerly reached out to turn the hall light on when Remus quickly spun his head to face Harry, as if reading his mind.

"No! Don't turn the light on. This way we will be able to surprise them and catch them off guard." Harry carefully edged his way closer behind Remus. He dried his sweaty palms on his t shirt before taking hold of his wand again, bracing himself for the impending attack from the death eaters at the door.

In what seemed like slow motion, the door swung open and Remus sent an impedimenta curse flying toward the dark figure. Harry's mind seemed empty as of what to do, and he racked his brain for what curse he should try. Normally in circumstances like this he just ran whilst shooting spells over his shoulder. Lightning flashed for a convenient second, illuminating the scene. It was just long enough however to change everything. Instead of seeing a small army of highly trained killing machines, he saw Mrs. Figg looking petrified.

Harry flicked on the light so as to reveal to Remus a livid Mrs. Figg standing there with cat food on her head, and tins littered all over the floor, some of them still clattering as they tried to find a place to rest. Harry stood stone like for a moment, unsure what to do. Logic would suggest that he should lower his wand and apologise profusely. On the other hand, they had already started, and they might as well finish her off. Eventually he took the logical route, but rather than apologise he creased over laughing at the scene.

Remus stood routed to the spot, flabbergasted. His mouth opening and closing like a goldfish out of water, whilst saying no words. Mrs. Figg however, knew exactly what she would do, and she planned it all out very carefully in the few moments that she stood there in the doorway, her face steadily turning redder and redder whilst she tried to put her anger into words.

"You! You! Why you wait till I get…" she began. Remus finally gathered his senses and, in speed that could only be attributed to natural instinct, he grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him through the doorway, past the livid old woman, in to the street. "Get back here, not running off until…" Mrs. Figg screamed in rage, but by then her voice had died out as Remus and Harry ran away from her. They didn't stop running for a long time in case she was chasing them. They didn't even check to see if she was, because the last thing you want to turn round and see is that she is, and that she is gaining on you!

"That was a close one," panted Remus, as he finally came to a standstill, unable to run any further. He stood hunched over, catching his breath for several moments before he spoke.

"I think she might have been worse than Death Eaters," said Harry, who would have still found the whole incident quiet amusing, had there not been several moment when he had feared for his life. Remus laughed.

"At least it will make a good story. Sirius would have loved to have seen that. He would have wet himself." The laughter stopped abruptly as they both remembered their good friend. They stood there for a moment, while Remus looked as if he was about to say something, but instead changed his mind and simply said. "We'd best get you home now Harry." They walked back along the street towards number four privet drive. As they passed Mrs. Figg's house, they saw she was still kneeling down picking up numerous cans of cat food.

Eventually, Harry reached the front door. Remus had the sense to wait by the corner so as not to be seen by the Dursley's. He gave a smile.

"Remember Harry, eleven o'clock tomorrow to pick you up." Harry didn't reply, but simply nodded his head happily before knocking on the front door and walking in. Uncle Vernon looked at him with a malicious grin on his face and said in the most smug way humanly possible:

"Had fun, did you boy?" Harry paused for a moment before replying.

"No, she made me work really hard. It was horrible." A wide smile spread across Vernon's big greasy face.

"We will have to send you round there more often then, wont we!" Harry smiled inwardly as he made his way to his room. Just before going to sleep, he thought to himself "That this wasn't such a bad birthday after all."

Harry awoke early next morning. The sun was still creeping across the lawn and the dew on the grass was sparkling in the sunlight. He got out of his bed and dressed quickly. Today was the day that he would be leaving, and that fact alone made him wide awake. As he cast a glance out at the early morning weather, it looked like it was going to turn out very sunny and bright. Perhaps if it was permitted, he could play a little bit of Quidditch in the garden with Ron later.

He pulled on a brown t-shirt and some big shorts which had once belonged to Dudley, and as a result came down to his shins. Harry packed away all his old robes and schoolbooks from which he had been revising over the holidays so far. Once he was packed and had managed to fasten the tie on his bulging trunk, he made sure he was prepared, meaning he wasn't naked, and his glasses were on the correct side of his face. The side with a nose.

He looked at his clock. It read six thirty-four, this along with the fact it was a weekend, meant it is unlikely any of the Dursley's would wake up before eight o'clock. He looked out of his window. Since he had woken up the sun had risen several more inches and now covered the entire lawn, and was starting to creep up the wall. The dew on the grass had evaporated and was now looking as dry as it ever did. Harry sat down on his bed and thought to himself, "Why couldn't it be this sunny yesterday?"

And with this thought there was a gentle tapping at the door downstairs.