Chapter One: Dreams and Letters

Hermione Granger was a highly intelligent straight-A student. She did not attend an ordinary school, but an extraordinary one name Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She did not have many friends, but she loved being with the ones she had. She also loved being with her family; unfortunately they have not been with their daughter for most of the summer and won't be coming back for quite some time.
As she lied down on her bed, Hermione thought of all the fun she could have if her parents were still here; she missed them deeply and desperately needed someone to talk to. It was real late or real early, depending on the way you look at it, but for Hermione, it was real late. It was 4:30 in the morning and she hadn't gotten an ounce of sleep. Still awfully lonely, Hermione decided she would invite her friend over later that day. Whilst pondering the thought, she drifted off into an unusual dream.
Grass covered every inch of the land and flowers mingled within. They were blooming everywhere, roses, lilies, and every flower you could imagine. Trees pushed their way up through the ground and vines climbed their branches. It had become pleasantly warmer and the bright sun embraced the flora. It suddenly became colder and stripped the trees of their leaves. It then became even colder and snow gently caressed the bare branches. The gentle snow turned into wicked shards of ice and sliced the trees. The trees started bleeding and the blood stained the snow, turning it deep red.
Hermione had awoken with a scream and looked around the room nervously. After calming herself, she lied back down trying to recollect her memories of the dream. Afterwards, she just stared at the ceiling. Hermione had gotten up to see what time it was. She walked down the stairs and glanced at the grandfather clock, it read: 8:47. Hermione yawned as she realized she had only gotten 4 hours and 17 minutes of sleep and drowsily trudged back up the stairs.
Hermione entered her pink and yellow room and sat on her big, comfy bed. She really didn't feel like sleeping right this moment, so she just lied down on the bed and fiddled with the lace and fringes of her pillows and blankets. She closed the gossamer curtains of her canopy bed, her eyes brimming with tears, and hugged her little fuzzy stuffed bunny. She wiped the tears away and remembered her earlier thoughts, so she jumped off the bed and headed for her desk.
She had taken out a roll of elegant parchment and her favorite bottle of rose-colored ink. She reached over for her favorite quill, ignoring all the fancy pens and mechanical pencils; she preferred writing with ink and feathers. Hermione unrolled the parchment, dipped her quill in the rosy ink and wrote at the top: Dear Harry. After several minutes, she prepared the letter to send to her friend.
A desolate and lonely boy named Harry Potter sat all alone on his bed in his minuscule room. After almost dying of boredom, he reached for his book bag when he heard a sickening scream. His plump cousin Dudley Dursley had burned his finger on the hot stove while cooking up a pound of bacon.
His parents had put him on a diet, but while they were out, Dudley would stuff his face and drink liters of cola. While hearing the crackling bacon, Harry became very hungry; the Dursley's hadn't fed him for weeks.
Harry slipped his hand in his bag and pulled out a giant book. Harry bought this book at Flourish and Blotts. He finally gave in to buying the book after hearing countless stories from his friend. When the sun hit its golden cover, the light lit up the whole room. Harry could barely make out the title. After moments of trying to see, it finally came clear. On the cover, inscribed in sliver, it read: Hogwarts: A History. Harry laughed and remembered Hermione.

"I read it in Hogwarts: A History."

An enchanting owl with lovely metallic feathers swooped in through the window and Harry hastily tore the letter from its talon. He saw his name written in rose-colored ink on the front. He recognized the hand-writing and immediately opened the letter.

Dear Harry,
How has your summer been? Mine hasn't gone to good. My parents
have left for most of the summer and no one is here with me. Well,
the reason I wrote this letter was to ask you if you would like to
spend the rest of the summer with me. You can come over whenever
you feel like it or if you can't that's alright. Are the Dursley's
treating okay? I hope they are. I wouldn't want to see you in bad
condition. Well, have a good day and I hope to see you soon.
Your Friend,
Hermione

After he was done reading, Harry slipped the dainty letter in the equally nice envelope. All he had to do was wait for his Aunt and Uncle to get home and he would be on his way. Harry decided he should start to pack, so he gathered all his clothes, school supplies and his necessities. After he had finished, Harry waited patiently again for his Aunt and Uncle to get home. He waited and waited and waited. All he heard was the loud smacking and popping of cola cans from Dudley. Harry kept constantly checking his watch and then he heard a vehicle pull up in the drive way.
Dudley hurried up and got rid of the evidence of him off his diet. The front door swung open and a corpulent man and his thin wife entered the house. The thin woman rushed into the kitchen to make her rotund husband and son dinner.

"HURRY UP! I'M HUNGRY!" The fat man cried

"ME TOO! I HAVEN'T EATEN ALL DAY!" Dudley screamed

Harry winced and wondered how anyone could eat so much. Harry also wondered if he should go down and ask his Uncle if he can stay at Hermione's house. After gathering up enough courage, Harry finally went down the stairs and walked towards the fat man.

"Uncle Vernon,"

"What IS it?"

"Well, um, I was wondering if I could go to my friend's house for the rest of the summer," Harry said bleakly.

Uncle Vernon looked up at Harry with the deepest of loathing, "Sure, anything to get rid of you!"

Harry almost jumped with joy, but he caught himself just in time and pretended to be gloomy after hearing Uncle Vernon's snide remark. Harry raced up the stairs and then fell when he thought of how he was going to get to Hermione's house. Harry silently walked back down the stairs and tapped Uncle Vernon's shoulder.

"DON'T TOUCH ME YOU BLOODY MORON!"

"Sorry Uncle Vernon,"

"YOU BETTER BE SORRY!"

"Um, I was wondering if-,"

"WHAT IS IT NOW?"

"Well, I was wondering,"

"GET ON WITH IT BOY!"

Harry could feel the eyes of Aunt Petunia and Dudley staring at him and he could hear them giggling.

"Well, if you would let me talk,"

"DON'T EVER RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME, EVER!! AND DON'T LOOK FORWARD TO GOING TO YOUR FRIEND'S HOUSE BECAUSE YOU AREN'T GOING!!"

Harry walked up the stairs, dispirited, downhearted, and opened the unsightly door to his room. He threw himself on the bed and sighed when a thought crossed his mind. 'Would I do it?' 'What would happen this time around?' were a couple of questions Harry asked himself, questions pertaining to running away.
Harry had run away before when he was thirteen. He had blown up his Aunt Marge after she insulted his parents and had to flee for his life. Tonight, of course, was a different story. Harry couldn't stand being yelled at and was being malnourished. He had to leave.
Harry gently tossed his suitcase to the ground below and made his way down the trellis with Hedwig in her cage under his arm. He jumped off the rest when he thought it was most appropriate and grabbed his suitcase. He had all he needed and had set off for Hermione's house. Harry took one last look at the Dursley home and hoped never to see it again. He looked at his watch and learned that it was 7:35 p.m.
A few hours later, Harry found a road that should lead to Hermione's house. Harry had never walked so far before and was so tired and felt very weak. His malnourishment was also a big factor in his weakness. He felt like he was going to fall at any moment and couldn't let that happen. He heard something moving in a pitch black forest he, unfortunately, was walking by. He would hear a twig breaking hear and there and didn't want to know what it was. Whatever it was pulled him into the forest and dragged him into what must have been the heart of the forest. The thing pulled Harry into a clearing and the moonlight shone on its face.
It was a man, a really dirty one at that. It must have been a homeless man, because of his ragged, torn, dirty clothes that were hanging off of his body. The man slipped his grimy hand into his pocket and pulled out a gun. The man pointed it at Harry's head.

"Gimme all yo' money,"

"But I haven't any"

"I said gimme all yo' money!"

"Well, um,"

Harry threw the hobo a bag full of wizard money and ran like the wind, running anywhere just to get away.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?!?" The man yelled

Harry heard the man yelling and soon heard gunshots. The man was trying to kill Harry just because he probably wanted cigarettes or booze.
Harry looked back just for a moment, then he had tripped on something and now he was all wet. Harry quickly stood up and looked around for anything. He saw a large two-story house and Harry ran for help. He quickly ran up to the door and started pounding on it.
Up in a very large room, on a very large bed, was a wide-eyed Hermione who was too scared to answer the door after hearing gunshots. 'It'll be alright' 'They'll go away' She thought to herself. The person kept pounding on her door so she silently crept down the stairs and slowly headed for the door. She quickly glanced at the clock in the living room. It read: 11:52 p.m. She slowly opened the door to see a boy with dark hair and emerald eyes.