After a terrible fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry had to come back to the Dursley home on four Privet Drive, where he has lived since he was a year old, under Albus Dumbledore's instructions. Dumbledore was the headmaster of Harry's school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry really appreciated Dumbledore, but also thought that deciding to send him back to his Uncle and Aunt hadn't been his finest hour. Aunt Petunia was Harry's mother's sister, and she loved him as much as she had loved her sister – apparently nothing at all in Harry's opinion - after all, Aunt Petunia always pretended she didn't even have a sister. Aunt Petunia despised her sister for being a witch, and now Harry was treated just the same because he was a wizard himself– her husband Vernon and son Duddley felt the same way she did, which made Harry's life very unpleasant indeed.
The Dursleys were extremely mean to Harry, and also, they were still feeling a bit resentful about what happened a couple years ago to Aunt Marge, Uncle Vernon's sister. Harry had lost his temper over Aunt Marge's description of Harry's parents, and accidentally inflated her as a human zeppelin. Harry had stormed out of the house afterwards, pointing his wand towards Uncle Vernon's face when he tried to stop him. Harry ended up spending the night in The Leaky Cauldron, the pub Harry and many other wizards living in the muggle world - non-magical people - used as a passage way to Diagon Alley, where all new students bought their school supplies.
Harry had learned not to care over the years, because at this point he was used to be treated awfully by the Dursleys, and also knew, he would be returning to school in no time. Hogwarts had become Harry's favorite place in the world, the moment he received a letter asking him to join them, and Hagrid now teacher of Hogwarts, had come to collect him to start his education as a wizard. He has learned so much already, although not always from a class, and is eager to learn more.
His parents were James and Lilli Potter, who sadly died when Harry was only a year old. Harry had had the chance to find out more about them in school, and about what happened to them as well, giving him a reason why he lived with the Dursleys in the first place.
Before he returns to school however, Harry will be staying in Ronald Weasley's house, one of his very best friends and classmate along with Hermione Granger, so he is really looking forward to get out of Privet Drive.
Harry tried time and time again to forget what happened last term at the Triwizard Tournament. The competition had not taken place for almost a century, and last year it had happened at Hogwarts. In Harry's opinion… everything happened the past year. Ron had been angry to him, Rita Skeeter - the nosiest woman alive - had written horrible lies about him in the Daily Prophet, someone forced his name into the deadly competition, and Lord Voldemort came back to his full strength once again.
Harry tried to continue his life as normally as he could, concentrating on the good things, trying really hard to stay positive, which for now seemed near impossible. He couldn't help being afraid of what Lord Voldemort would do to him if he showed up at the Dursleys home. He was sure that without any help from the wizarding world, he was an easy target. Even though, he had escaped Voldemort a couple of times… four actually, but who's counting? He still feels that without anybody on his side, he wasn't going to be able to defend himself. No matter how many times he had escaped, he didn't even have his wand now. It was locked in the cupboard under the stairs along with his other wizarding possessions as Uncle Vernon always demanded every summer he went back.
Every night, Harry remembered every piece of it. The images inside his brain hadn't stopped playing since it happened. He could see how Voldemort killed one of his fellow students, Cedric Diggory, who was also participating in the Tournament; he could see how Voldemort came out of a steaming cauldron and into this world again; and also, he could vividly remember his mother and father's ghostly echoes helping him to escape a horrible death once again. The nights were unusually long, and almost every night, he woke up sweating with a silent scream that stopped his breath, feeling a painful knot in his chest. He couldn't tell this to the Dursleys, he was forbidden from talking about anything in the Wizarding world knew they wouldn't care even if he did, and also would be very angry knowing he could be dead now, and wasn't. Harry thought in telling Sirius, his godfather, but every time he started the letter, he suddenly found out he didn't know how to explain what he was feeling in words that made sense. Harry had tried to call Hermione for some advice, but Uncle Vernon unplugged the phone and took the cord with him. Harry was being extremely careful around him this days, he was furious at Harry - a natural, common thing. Last week, Harry had tried to reach for his wand in his old dormitory. He had been feeling increasingly unsure about walking around the muggle world without it. Who could blame him, Voldemort was out there and his most powerful weapon was put away. The Dursleys just didn't understand. When Uncle Vernon had tried to stop him from getting near the handle, Harry reminded him he hadn't sent any recent letters to his godfather Sirius.
Sirius was accused of murder and was on the run, of course, he was innocent, but Harry always chose to forget about this last detail. Harry told Uncle Vernon his godfather would be checking up on him by owl post. He told him Sirius would come to his rescue at once. Uncle Vernon had turned a nasty shade of yellow and had told Harry off to his bedroom. However his voice had been more like a request than irritating. Harry knew some of the fear from the Dursleys towards Sirius was wearing off because he had never actually been in the house, but they still fussed when Harry mentioned him.
One morning, Harry woke up to see a particularly beautiful shiny day. Without even noticing it was his birthday again. As usual, the Dursleys were planning on not paying attention to this whatsoever, so he wasn't really expecting them to say anything about it at all. He was used to it by now, every birthday he had seen in this house had been a complete mess. He tumbled up, and said good morning to Hedwig, his pet owl. Hedwig seemed really eager to fly, so Harry let her out of her cage. She flew out the window, and Harry said to her just before she left "Have a nice day!" in a tone also meaning "Thanks for remembering my birthday!" then went downstairs for breakfast. Harry he had always been small for his age, skinny even, with jet-black untidy hair which made Uncle Vernon go berserk, a free bonus of life he often chuckled about. He had brilliant green eyes, his mother's, which in turn drove his aunt up the wall. Harry sat down at the kitchen table, straightening his spectacles, while Aunt Petunia moved around the kitchen finishing breakfast.
"Morning" said Harry raising his voice over the click of the dishes. There was no answer. Sometimes, Harry thought the Dursleys were obviously aware when it was his birthday but intended to be as particularly nasty as possible. But then again, he thought this would be paying too much attention to him, a thing they tried to avoid more than anything else. Anyway, he wasn't expecting much food either, because Duddley, his cousin, was on a diet and everyone had to eat the same food, and in Harry's case, the crumbs Duddley didn't eat. Even the very particular behavior from the Dursleys towards him, was something good to distract his mind, for at least a second, of bigger problems.
"Good morning" said Uncle Vernon behind the newspaper, while reaching his own chair in the kitchen table in a not-now-I'm-busy voice. He stared around the table, touching Harry lightly with his peripherals and even such a tiny contact made him frown over his moustache.
"Where's my breakfast?" said Duddley just behind Uncle Vernon, with his detestable tone of every morning. Duddley was still overweighed making his bottom fill at least two of the tiny kitchen chairs. It looked like he had doubled himself during his last school year at Smeltings. With Aunt Petunia sending food over the holidays, plus the food Duddley managed to get from other students by beating then up, he had been far more than well fed. However, the school nurse had added a letter along with the next year's supply list, saying he needed to follow the diet chart she attached.
"It's coming, sweetums" said Aunt Petunia in a sugar-coated voice, pouring some porridge into a small bowl in front of him and his pig-like face, which hadn't changed a bit over the years, only expanded, like a pug pup, somehow smashed wide. Duddley's diet had changed from "only vegetables" to some "milk products and grains." Almost immediately after Aunt Petunia settled the bowl, Duddley snapped into a red-face, refusing to eat it. "What is this? I want some real food and I want it now!" He threw the blue bowl out of his reach, hitting Harry on the shoulder and spilling all its contents on the dining room floor.
Uncle Vernon stood up and yelled at Harry. "What, are you stupid boy? Look what you've done!" Harry answered calmly but firm. "I didn't do anything." Aunt Petunia covered her mouth with her bony hands as if the unthinkable had happened. She mouthed speechless for a second, then turned around rapidly to see Uncle Vernon's reaction. Harry looked at her and instead of feeling sorry, he though "Why don't they all stay speechless more often? That way I wouldn't have to listen to so much nonsense all the time!" Uncle Vernon simply rolled up the paper and pointed upstairs. Harry looked up and raising his voice a level or two said once more "I didn't do anything" But Uncle Vernon, this time, took a deep, deep breath and said in a deeper voice "Up… stairs." Filled with indignation, Harry got up from his chair and walked furiously towards the stairs.
Once in his room, Harry crossed out another day on the calendar he had made for himself, a little bit harder than he had intended to, making a hole on the parchment. He was counting down the days for his return to Hogwarts on September first. Harry had a whole lot of things going on inside his brain: getting away from the Dursleys would be nice, after all, another huge worry was Voldemort and Harry didn't feel neither safe with them nor calmed. Hagrid had been telling him he shouldn't worry until things came to happen, but with the Dursleys he didn't have a lot of things to distract him from the problem. He believed once inside the castle he wouldn't have to worry so much about being attacked, or not at all with Dumbledore by his side. Apart from trusting him, Harry knew the only known wizard Voldemort feared was him.
Suddenly, something broke the silence making Harry jump to his feet. He heard the crash of some sort of glass against the kitchen floor. Dudley must have finished with the bowl. He tried to listen more carefully for details, pressing his ear against the door. The voices were loud, but so babbling he could hardly understand them. However, they belonged undoubtedly to his Aunt and Uncle, which made Harry feel reassured about his bowl theory. For a moment he had gotten a bit edgy and thought of making a run for his wand though.
"What are we going to do?" said Aunt Petunia in a voice that could only mean trouble.
"Calm down, Petunia, we'll find the way out of this" answered Uncle Vernon in an angry and extremely loud voice even for him.
"I demand to live up to what I deserve, father. You better do something!" added Duddley in an exasperated tone and Harry was able to hear him rushing upstairs, shutting the door to his room in such an angry manner that the windows of the whole house trembled. As far as he what he deserved, Harry had his very own opinion.
Harry couldn't hear anything more, aided by the growling in his stomach, and decided to move the loose floorboard under his bed and eat some of the food he had hidden. Mrs. Weasley was the one who kept sending food to Harry, afraid he might be underfed. He was more than grateful, because if it wasn't for her cooking, he would probably starve.
After eating enough Corn Cake staring at the darkening sky for what felt like a couple hours, he heard a cracking noise near the house. He put the food back in the box, and hid everything under the bed as quickly as he could and got off the floor, opening the window, and leaning through it, but his room was too far from the front door. It was impossible for him to see anything from that angle. He felt very aware, vulnerable. He slowly pulled the door open, walked downstairs as quietly as his step would allow, trying not to catch anybody's attention, but just as he was about to reach the door knob...
"Just what do you think you're doing?" said Uncle Vernon, who was standing behind Harry, purple faced, clearly still heated about the long discussion with Aunt Petunia.
"I...I...nothing" answered Harry, thinking about what story to make up, but he couldn't think of anything fast enough. His mind was on the other side of the front door. There was something about Uncle Vernon's large purple face which made Harry feel distracted. He couldn't just say he was there to see if there was something wrong or strange outside the door -or that he wanted to know about their fight- they could be seconds away from dying for all he knew.
"I don't believe you!" said Uncle Vernon pulling Harry by the front of his shirt.
"I...needed to...drink water!" said Harry as fast as the words came up in his head. He needed to have a go at getting his wand. Nothing had happened so far so that was a good sign, but still…
"Very well" said Uncle Vernon dragging Harry all the way to the kitchen. "Drink and then go to your room!"
"Alright" said Harry. He thought if he took long enough drinking a glass of water, he would be able to see through one of the windows if there was anything odd just outside at least, when...
Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock.
"I'm coming! Could you just hold on for a ruddy second!" said Uncle Vernon in an exalted tone rushing towards the front door - which was being banged as it never had - and pushing Harry out of the way, closely followed by Aunt Petunia. He remembered his keeping positive resolution. Maybe it was the Weasleys coming to collect him once again, although that was a really unlikely idea. Last time they had shown by Floo powder, and got into the house through the chimney, that is of course after they managed to unstuck themselves from inside it; possibly Hagrid, coming to tell him he miscount the days and he should be in Hogwarts right now, or maybe…
"Hi, my name is Tatum. I'm looking for Mr. Harry Potter" exclaimed pleasantly a girl with strange glasses, a deep purple coat, black high heeled boots, a really funny hat with peacock feathers on top and bushy red hair standing at the entrance, holding her hand in the air trying to shake Uncle Vernon's. Apparently, almost knocking the door off its hinges was normal behavior for this woman He ultimately took a deep breath and slammed the door right on her face. Harry saw her from the kitchen, and instantly realized she was from the magical world, and apparently Uncle Vernon had too, for the way he had reacted.
All of a sudden, before Uncle Vernon turned around to yell at Harry once again for something he didn't have any fault of, the door slammed him in the face getting out of its frame altogether in a million pieces with a soundless implosion. The girl outside let herself in stepping over the wreckage taking off her lavender long gloves.