Harry Potter was alone. He had isolated himself from his friends. He refused to write to them, or have any contact with them. He was done trying to live up to their expectations. Ron constantly shunning him for his fame and trying to outshine him and then refusing to talk to him for weeks when Harry beat him. Hermione for lecturing him about his studies and not allowing him to relax, always Baffin him to do school work. That was funny actually. Harry got straight O's in every class, and was top of the class. He even ranked higher than Hermione. However, since Harry didn't want the attention he convinced the professors to give him fake grades, for the other students see, and hide his true scores.
Harry laughed a bit whenever he thought of potions class. He and Snape had sorted out their differences long ago and the hatred between the two was, simply a farce. Harry would always brew his potions in his free time, and would often be far ahead of schedule for the curriculum. He always presented Snape with his perfect potions and allowed him to give them to the Hospital Wing or sell them, splitting he profit.
Harry could no longer stand his childhood friends. The way they treated him as if he were a toddler was demeaning. He had far too much on his plate to deal with their childish ways and petty arguments. He had to kill off a dark lord, for Merlin's sake, and stop a war. So that is why we now find Harry at the Dursley's, in the middle of July, holed up in his room, trying to studying. He had memorised all the textbooks for sixth and seventh year a year or two ago, and was now reviewing the sixth year books for the upcoming year.
Was Harry at least mildly depressed? Yes, he was, not that that was surprising. He lived in a household of people that hated him and abused him, and he was the bloody Chosen One destined to save the entire world from the infamous Lord Voldemort. Harry didn't think anyone had noticed his withdrawal from those who used to be close to him, well no one but Snape. Nothing could get past that man. He had confronted the teen about it and Harry had explained his reasoning. As odd as it was, Harry trusted Severus more than just about anyone.
They made an agreement to always be upfront with the other and not keep secrets that would damage the father/son bond that had formed over the years. That upfront-ness was how Harry discovered that his mother was not just a witch. Her father's side carried the magic gene while Lily's mother was a Rusalka. That fact alone was only known by four living people, those being Severus, Harry, Remus, and Dumbledore. The situation had never happened before. Rusalka were typically water dwellers and were not known to have children with humans. Ever. But Harry's mother was half Rusalka and somehow her human side eliminated the need to live in the water. She did still possess the abilities and a few traits though. She had a bit of control of water and could somewhat hypnotise others with her voice. Rusalka were also known for their vibrant green eyes, a sign that the gene was passed to Harry. And now with the boy's sixteenth birthday coming up, they were about to see what being a one quarter Rusalka would entail.
So here Harry sat, awaiting his birthday, and studying, occasionally getting the shit knocked out of him by his obese uncle. Harry was about to run. Vernon was a very violent man. But that aside, Harry was anxious. He hasn't done much research on his inheritance yet and he only had two weeks. Suddenly feeling extremely rushed he set the textbook he was holding to the side and got out his Rusalka reference book. There was very little written on this specific creature, but he dove in anyways.
Two hours later, at 4 o'clock, Harry resurfaced. The only thing Harry had found was a vague reference to a mate and other than that it was just a book with a lot of speculation. Harry stood and made his way downstairs. He knew it would infuriate his uncle if the man had to holler for him.
Petunia was scrambling around the kitchen when Harry entered. She was grabbing various ingredients and it appeared she was making two meals. She looked up and their eyes met. Harry was shocked by the sheer terror on his aunts face. "Boy! You need to leave! He is mad! Furious! He was mumbling about 'killing the freak for this'! He will be home in an hour and you can't be here!" She kept rambling, but Harry had caught the gist if what she was saying. Something happened and Vernon was blaming Harry. Vernon was going to kill him.
Harry turned and ran back up the stairs. He rushed into his room, pulled out his trunk, and began to pack. He haphazardly threw everything he owned into the trunk, then let Hedwig out. He then dragged his trunk down the stairs and into the hall where he was stopped by his aunt. She handed him a full backpack, which he immediately swung onto his back. "It is full of food. I don't know where you will go but, there might be some where in London. There is enough money in the front pocket for a bus fare, and there is a small dolly on the porch for your trunk. Now go. He will be here soon."
Harry simply nodded and headed out into the evening air. The last half of his summer was going to be interesting.