It was raining heavily outside number 12 Grimmauld Place and Harry was sat on the windowsill staring out at the flooded pavements. The trees were swinging hard and seemed in danger of being pulled up at the roots by the great claws of the wind. Despite the weather, nothing had really changed. Two Death Eaters still roamed the small square, constantly staring up at Harry. Unknowingly of course, for number 12 Grimmauld Place was protected from all eyes trying to look in by a Fidelius Charm and only those in the Order or those told personally by Dumbledore knew where it was.

Harry got up and left the window and the drenched-to-the-skin Death Eaters behind and dragged his feet slowly down the stairs, spiraling down and down. He passed two different floors, although the resemblance was uncanny. You couldn't tell the difference between the two, both floors were coated in a thick layer of dust and the once luxurious tapestries were now moth-ridden and dull. The whole place was dull and not to mention boring, there was little to do when he was confined to one place and all alone. The only thing better here than at Privet Drive was he wasn't constantly treated like something smelly on the bottom of your shoe.

As Harry reached the ground floor he heard something down in the kitchen and with a leap of joy he ran down into the warm, spacious kitchen. Harry's joy was short lived when he saw that it wasn't Sirius, Ron, Hermione or anyone else from the Order. It was Kreacher, Harry had forgotten he actually lived here. He only saw him once every few days. Kreacher was a house-elf bound to serve the House of Black until his dying days.
"And here comes the half-blood boy now, making enough noise to wake the dead." said the house-elf as he saw Harry clattering into the kitchen, "What ever would my mistress say if she could see me now. Oh how we would weep for poor Kreacher," All of a sudden Kreacher began to weep uncontrollably, but stopped as suddenly as he started, "She would rid the Noble House of Black of such filth!" he finished.
"Kreacher," Harry began in a polite voice, "Have you any idea when your master will return?" Harry refrained from saying Sirius' name because whenever Kreacher heard the truth about Sirius being his new master he would rage and curse under his breath, and Harry knew an answer wouldn't come easily then.
"Kreacher knows not," croaked the house-elf, "But mast- he said the Mudblood and the red haired blood-traitor will be back before he is."

Harry had to stop himself from bursting out with something horrible at the insults of his two closest friends. Instead he walked over to the polished, oak kitchen table and took a seat closest to the warm, red glow of the fire. This was Harry's favourite spot in the whole house, he enjoyed being next to the fire, it warmed him up instead and for some strange but wonderful reason it reminded him of his parents.

A rumbling like thunder came from Harry's stomach and it was then that he realized that he hadn't eaten in over a day! His last meal being a bacon, egg and sausage breakfast with Sirius, Hermione, Ron and the rest of the Weasley clan apart from Bill and Charlie, they had important Order business abroad. Shortly after that meal they had all left, Sirius being the last to leave and, to Harry's dismay, being the one to tell him he couldn't leave the house with them because it was too dangerous.
"I'm sorry Harry, I don't like to leave you alone like this but it's the only way you'll be completely safe," he had said, "I wouldn't ever be able to forgive myself if something happened to you and I could've done something to stop it. You're the closest thing I have to a son and the only living part of James and Lily left and you mean more to me than you realize," Sirius had finished. After giving Harry a hug he turned and departed through the front door.

Although he was moved by Sirius' words and could understand he wanted to keep him safe but did they think him weak and not able? Did they assume that now, after four years of Voldemort trying to kill him whilst he was unprotected, he couldn't look after himself? Harry also wasn't happy about being left all alone with just the company of an ill-mannered house-elf that disappeared, not to be found, for days at a time. Harry decided to get up and make himself some dinner, he could've asked Kreacher but knew he would've had a better chance getting blood from a stone.

After Harry had made himself a generous proportion of bacon and eggs he sat down at the table and began to eat. When he looked up from his food, to his surprise he saw a face he not only recognized, but he was also very glad to see. It was Hedwig! Harry's snowy owl was outside on the windowsill, pecking at the window trying to get it's owners attention. Harry rushed his way over to the window, a bacon rasher hanging out of his mouth looking like the long tongue of a huge, panting dog. He opened the stiff window with a great tug and let Hedwig bound across the room to land on the kitchen table. Next to Harry's plate of food, Hedwig stuck out her leg and it was then that Harry noticed she had a letter for him. Better yet, there was two! As Harry untied the letters, he gave Hedwig a piece of bacon and with an affectionate nip on Harry's finger she flew over to the fireplace to dry her feathers.

Harry recognized the first of the letters easily, he got one every year on the same day. It was his Hogwarts letter, giving him the details of what he would need for his fifth year and a list of the new books he need to buy. It read:

Dear Mr. Harry Potter,

A list of your Hogwarts essentials is listed below. As you're now in your fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a few changes have been made to your book collection.

An Intermediate Book of Spells - Grade 1 by Joanne Rowling

A Guide to Worldwide Herbology - Grade 2 by Epiniko Mandra

Time for O.W.L Transfiguration? by Barbara Changes

Defend Yourself Against the Dark Arts - Grade 5 by Lapodium Bagshot

Advanced Spells of the Modern Age - Grade 5 by Joanne Rowling

Yours Sincerely,

Deputy Headmistress, Mrs. Minerva McGonagall.

Harry didn't notice anything out of the ordinary there, he just knew he would have to go to Diagon Alley to purchase them. He was glad no one else was here when he got this letter otherwise they would all fall over each other offering to buy them for him. Harry had visited Diagon Alley every year and wasn't about to change that. His first visit there had been incredible, Hagrid had taken him on his eleventh birthday. Even after he had been there over twenty times previously, new things always caught his eye. Not to mention everyone was wearing witch and wizarding apparel, Harry loved it there and couldn't wait to get back. He would mention it to Sirius in a letter or face to face as soon as possible.

Harry gulped as he looked at the second letter and recognized the writing as Sirius', he just hoped this letter wasn't about to shun his ideas of going to Diagon Alley. Unfortunately the letter didn't hold good news, it read:

Harry,

I know you must be feeling very lonely and isolated from the Wizarding world at the moment. But all this is for good reason. I'm with Dumbledore now and he had much to tell me about the goings-on at the Ministry. It's becoming less safe by the day, Voldemort has Cornelius Fudge under the Imperious Curse personally and now has full control of the Ministry. The workers are being hoodwinked by Voldemort. He is using Fudge to tell the Ministry workers that you are a sham, you're lying about Voldemort being back and you're doing this for publicity and fame. Soon enough people are going to start believing this, then you'll be gaining more and more enemies by the hour and soon we will have to act. Otherwise our world will be in real danger of being taken over by Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Hermione and Ron should be with you shortly, they will have your new Hogwarts essentials to prevent you risking your life out in Diagon Alley. Rumour has it that only a few people outside Voldemort's league of Death Eaters want you dead and silenced... But it's better to be safe than sorry. Even with a guard from the Order might not be enough. That's all I can write to you now Harry, I hope you are coping on your own. I, of all people, know how it feels to be alone.

Your Godfather,

Sirius.

Once a disgruntled Harry had finished the letter he had so many emotions he didn't know where to start. He was angry at the fact that only a small handful of people believed that Lord Voldemort was back and he was gaining enemies by telling the truth! But for the fact that he would be seeing Ron and Hermione soon, he wasn't at all happy with the letters contents.
"No Diagon Alley trip for you this year," he cursed to himself.

Harry threw the letters down onto the kitchen table and began to pace the room, he couldn't stop thinking about the negative things. He paused, took a deep breath and tried to take things in from everybody else's point of view. But that lasted the length of hair on Kreacher's bald head and he became more frustrated by the minute. Suddenly there was a loud banging coming from above. Harry raced to the bottom of the stairs and pulled out his wand for caution. He began to silently climb the stairs, his wand ahead of him, straining his ears for further noises. Before Harry knew it, the door at the top of the stairs flew open and two faces came into view. Hair plastered against their foreheads and grim expressions on their faces. It was Ron and Hermione.