"Were It Nothing But a Dream"

Summer's previous, the summer in-between sixth and seventh year.----

For Harry Potter, the summer of his sixth year was to end with a bang. Quite literally, as the imploding watermelon was to point out. That would be Fred and George's fault, of course, but Harry didn't see it that way…not really. After all it was he who put the watermelon on the pick nick table at the park for all the non-magic guests to partake of. Fred and George only provided their all-magic, no- mess Imploding Powder. No mess…who were they kidding anyway?

But the watermelon had been fun, practically the only highlight of the summer anyway….

…

Aww, who am I kidding? Imploding watermelons? You bet your ass there was more than imploding watermelons in Harry Potters' seventeenth summer on this earth. There was much more. Much much more. And most of it came in a beautiful shade of black.

Chapter 1

or

Why Blowing Up Your Aunt Won't Get You Kicked Out

But Other Stuff Just Might

Harry smiled, a dreary sort of smile that could get you kicked into jail if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. His eyes circled the ceiling, counting myriad imaginary circles in the plaster as he thought of all the things he'd rather be doing right then instead of lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, making circles with his eyes, listening to the Dursleys.

Wouldn't they just shut up already?

They had been at it for a week, talking, yelling at each other. When one would start to lose their cool, the other would double their efforts, scream, carry on the fight. When will it bloody end? Harry thought as he stuffed a pillow over his ears for the third time that week. He didn't really even know what it was about. Car payments? Groceries? Big bright bananas dressed up like parakeets given to the lady down the lane on a Sunday afternoon? Harry really didn't know! And to tell the truth, he didn't care either. He just sat in his room, poured over his books, studying for his exams that he knew he would someday have, or finishing his homework in a way more creative than the last.

Some days the Dursleys would let him out.

Harry hoped that today would be one of those days. They usually let him out once a week, to 'rid the dratted house of your dratted smell' or something silly like that. But Harry didn't mind the insults. He loved to be outside, to wander around the streets, look at the people, pick out the houses he liked, and things like that. And Harry liked it for another reason to. Harry had a secret.

You see, for weeks now, every time the Dursleys let him out of that pathetic little room that every summer Harry deigned to call home (sad as it was when compared to the Slytherin dorms) Harry had visited a little shop in desperate need of help whenever they could get it. Slowly, he began to work up a reputation. Slowly he got to know the people, and eventually they offered him a job. "Whenever you can come in is good, Lord knows we need the help."

And so it was that Harry got himself a job. And with a job came other responsibilities, and liberties. He amassed money, he bought small things for himself, smuggled them into the Dursleys house in some of his roomier pockets. Harry was good at that, all that sneaking around. Quite Slytherin-ish, Harry would sometimes think with a smile.

Harry's mind began to drift again. He thought of nothing at all, and everything. He thought of inky blackness, the soft simmering of cool cauldrons. Wispy hair falling over a pale shoulder draped in heavy black material. The soft hum of a low voice. Whispered words.

"You! Potter, boy!"

Harry jumped up as Uncle Vernon invaded the room, bringing a sniffing, high cheek-boned Aunt Petunia with him. Her face looked down on him with haunty aplomb, and Harry found himself thinking once more that he would rather be anywhere than here. His wish was soon to be granted.

"I want you out of here right now boy! Go do—" He sputtered and his mustache poofed out like a walrus, "—whatever it is that you do!"

Harry bounced out and sidled out the front door. He never liked this place much anyway.

If anyone is reading this who hasn't recently read the prequel (Magazines and Bubbles) then...um...then...

wait, I'll think of something...

er

ur a big fat poopie head! Yeah! What now, huh?

...O yeah, read the prequel first. Or now. Whatever. just as long as u read it. And pay attention to the damn authors noteies, they're important! I need reviews, people! Remember that each review feed the author three Fabulous, Wonderful, Absolutely Marvelous Grade-A Patent "Ego-Points!" Now yours (or mine) for the low, low price of only 9-thousand, 9-hundred, and 9-ty 9pounds! Or dollars!Or whatever!Justgimmie the dang review already, whaddu I gotta do, beg?

Luvies!

Copper