A/N: Hello there! Thank you for taking an interest in my story, this is my very first fanfiction and I hope you all like it, please feel free to leave any suggestions in the form of a review thanks ;)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K Rowling, I am writing this story purely for the entertainment of Harry Potter fans everywhere.
Chapter 1: A Dreadful Summer and a Letter
The weather was surprisingly out of place for the twenty-fifth day of July, the sky was strangely downcast and an ominous mist hovered over the tidy arrangement of streets that was Little Whinging.
In previous years large groups of children could be heard squealing with delight as they played with each other at the park, a stone's throw from Privet Drive. But the park was strangely empty, for though the children did not know it, this year was to be unlike any other…
A tall, lanky boy made his way through the empty park, unaware of his surroundings as he strolled seemingly aimlessly towards the street. He started at the sound of a distant car, pulling out a thin strip of wood from a pocket of the old, baggy jeans he wore, bright green eyes peering cautiously around for signs of danger.
'I shouldn't have come out here' thought Harry, it was a stupid idea really, with the recent state of panic that was sweeping the wizarding world. He had pointedly ignored the purple flyers from the Ministry of Magic stating that no witch or wizard should leave their house alone, especially after dark. But Harry didn't think he could stand the thought of being stuck in his Uncle's house all day long with only Dudley for company.
It seemed even the muggles had noticed something, or maybe it was just another case of overprotective mothers being worried about their children playing in such dreadful conditions.
'Overprotective…' Harry mused, his Aunt certainly didn't care what happened to him, the idea of her asking him where he had been all day was laughable, Harry chuckled lightly before sobering up again.
It was the same routine everyday; Harry would wake up at the crack of dawn, down a slice of toast, and be out of the house before anyone was up. He spent his days roaming the abandoned park, never straying too far from the house. Though he felt he was being cautious, he knew his friends would never have approved of it.
His friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.
Harry had finally convinced them to return to their families, true, he would have wanted their company over the summer but he couldn't picture his uncle allowing them house space.
'He barely even tolerates me, he'd go nutters if I let those "Freaks" spend a night in his house'.
Of course, the only reason why Harry's relatives even put up with him was the request made by Harry's former Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, last year.
'I ask only this: that you allow Harry to return, once more, to this house, before his seventeenth birthday, which will ensure that the protection continues until that time…"
Harry had not told his Aunt and Uncle that Professor Dumbledore had been killed during his time at Hogwarts, if he had, Uncle Vernon would have wasted no time in chucking his things out. But that wasn't the only reason, though he knew it was true, Harry couldn't bring himself to say 'Dumbledore's gone' aloud once he stepped into the Dursleys' car when they had grudgingly picked him up a week earlier than usual, it was as though saying it in both the muggle and wizarding worlds would make it even more real, and irreversible.
He had reached his Uncle's house now and was about to open the front door, hoping he hadn't been locked out, when he heard a blood-curdling shriek.
His heart raced. 'Death Eaters?', yet, as soon as he thought that he knew it couldn't be true. Dumbledore couldn't have been wrong about the ancient magic protecting Harry. But then, Dumbledore had been wrong about Snape.
Harry felt a surge of anger as the name crossed his mind, Snape the murderer, the Half-blood Prince! Harry felt reckless, hoping Snape was inside, but then he remembered his humiliating defeat that night, he didn't stand a chance against Snape if he couldn't do non-verbal magic. He knew he would be killed the moment he stepped into the house, or at least kidnapped, but that wasn't much better as Voldemort would end up killing him, eventually. Probably after hours of torture.
'Does the magic only work when I'm in the house?' For a few moments he lingered, faced with indecision. He could leave before the Death Eaters realized he wasn't in the house...
'GET AWAY FROM HER!' Growled Harry's uncle, Vernon Dursley from somewhere behind the door, this struck him as odd, he could hear things being smashed, and people stumbling around the living room. He knew his uncle would never have the courage to speak to a wizard like that, more less so a Death Eater.
Mustering all the courage he could, Harry raised his wand and pushed the front door open, he moved quietly through the hallway and peered into the living room, what he saw was definitely unexpected.
Petunia Dursley was being 'Attacked' (For lack of a better word), by a large eagle owl while her husband Vernon was desperately trying to knock it down with what Harry vaguely recalled to be Dudley's Smeltings' stick. The owl was obviously trying to get Aunt Petunia to accept the letter attached to its leg but this fact was lost on Harry's aunt.
'It just wants you to read the letter' said Harry wearily. Uncle Vernon froze and looked round at Harry stupidly.
'What?'
'I said it wants you to accept the letter' replied Harry, 'You know, we use owls to send messages to each other in the-'
'I WILL NOT HAVE YOU MENTIONING YOUR ABNORMALITY IN MY HOUSE! WE HAVE OUR REPUTATIONS TO UPHOLD BOY!'
Harry was about to tell him the neighbours were more likely to find out his 'secret' if he kept shouting about it when Aunt Petunia spoke up.
'I tried to get the letter from it!' she snapped, 'But for some strange reason it kept pecking me and wouldn't allow me to touch it'
The owl had dropped the letter at Harry's feet and was now circling the room calmly as though nothing had happened; Harry frowned, if the letter wasn't for his aunt it should have been delivered to him directly, or at least to his room.
'Well boy?' snarled Uncle Vernon, startling Harry. 'Open the bleeding letter and find out wants it wants'.
Harry picked up the envelope, breaking the familiar Hogwarts seal. He laughed when he saw the address. 'That's why the owl wouldn't let you read the letter… It's addressed to the both of us! His smile slid of his face as he recognized the loopy writing.
'To Mr. Harry Potter and Mrs. Petunia Dursley,
The living room, Number 4 Privet Drive,
Little Whinging,
Surrey.
Regarding the conversation we had roughly a year ago, as you already know Harry will be turning seventeen, becoming a fully fledged wizard, on the 31st of July, I sincerely hope you recall the implications of this fact, Harry's arch-nemesis Lord Voldemort will undoubtedly be biding his time, and will most likely attack Harry the moment he comes of age. I have long foreseen this, and have made plans for your relocation to a more…secure premises outside the country, it would be wise for Mr. Dursley to set all his financial affairs in order before leaving as it may not be safe for you to return for a quite a while. If you wish to decline my offer you may do so but rest assured I have your best interests at heart. If you do accept the arrangements then you should wait patiently as someone will be in contact with you shortly.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
P.S: Harry, you will not be following your relatives to their new home, please do not leave the house in their absence, I have made alternative arrangements for your well-being when you come of age.
P.P.S: I like muggle knitting patterns'