He had searched everywhere but he could not find them. He had kept in touch with his cousin on occasion, but his aunt and uncle never replied; they just sent back the letters they received. He would be hurt by this, but he would never let that get to him; he was used to it. He and his cousin rarely talked much. They would mostly exchange small talk with the words they wrote on the parchment. Neither had much currently going on in their lives. They were both out of school. Harry was married and his wife was nearly 9 months pregnant. His cousin frequently visited his old childhood home and cared for his parents. Well, mostly his severely overweight father.

Harry squinted behind his circular glasses; attempting to gain a somewhat clear image of his surroundings through the fog and mist. There was no storm, no rain, no lightning, no thundering clap, but there might as well be; at least THAT would provide a clearer image that what Harry was trying to navigate himself through at the moment on his old Firebolt.

Then something clicked in his mind, he remembered the gift that George gave him about three years ago and he always kept with him. He pulled out a circular bottle that was so smooth that it almost looked like wax. It was engraved with a simple shape of a sun and bore the word Sunny Spells, and was sealed with a small cork. He never had any use for it. Then again, the spell could have expired by now, but Harry was desperate.

He opened the bottle. As he removed the cork, a pop rung in his ears. Nothing happened for a second. He was hopeful something at least a little beneficial would happen. Then a shower of sparks erupted from the small bottle and burst most of the fog into nothingness. He teared up slightly at the memory of George's twin brother Fred; how their shenanigans would make everyone laugh; how he bravely sacrificed his own life to save so many more, including his family. When the fog was nearly gone, all of the sparks returned to the bottle. Harry quickly replaced the cork onto the bottle and slipped it into his pocket. He took sight of the square houses that were now visible below him. Harry quickly reacted. He placed his wand directly in front of his face and muttered, "Indespectus," Harry is now invisible to all muggles.

He silently dismounted his broomstick and observed the street sign; Privet Drive. He glanced at the house he landed in front of. Screwed to the door was a brass number 4. He brought his broom stick into the front yard and draped his invisibility cloak over the broom. Harry approached the front door with what seemed like a thousand thoughts running through his head.

Will they accept me? Will they accept my new family? Are they still mad at me because I'm different?

Harry overcame his hesitation and knocked thrice.

A very muscular Dudley answered the door. He noticed no one there and took a quick glance outside. The street was empty. He closed the door and turned around just as Harry was shedding the spell. Dudley seemed surprised, yet happy. "Harry?!"

"Good day, Dudley."

"What are you doing here? You never said you were visiting."

"I'd just thought I'd say hello,"

Aunt Petunia entered the room just then, and released a loud gasp at the sight of the intruder.

Harry turned around and exclaimed, "Aunt Petunia!"

"Back away, you inconsiderate fiend!" she said pointing at the wand in his hand, "Last time you were here you almost killed us! Don't hurt me"

Harry put away his wand, "relax, I won't hurt you," he claimed, "I only want to ask you something!"

Petunia lowered her voice, "Very well, you may ask, but then I want you out of my house!"

"Why haven't you or Uncle Vernon answered my letters?" Harry asked calmly.

"You haven't received the word have you?" she said, tears splattered her faded pink dress and white-laced apron. Harry turned to Dudley with a confused expression.

"Dad is dead," He said after a brief pause, "he died of a heart attack three nights ago."

Harry felt a wave of sadness fall over him. He never thought that he would feel this way, especially in this situation. But he knew why he did. For the first eleven years of his life, Vernon was the closest thing Harry had to a father. Although he didn't enjoy those years entirely, he was still grateful to have one. "I am so sorry, Aunt Petunia," Harry said sincerely.

The tense yet silent moment was interrupted by a loud BAM at the kitchen window. It was a small, yet incredibly fast owl that Harry instantly recognized as Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon. He flapped his wings frantically before he landed. Harry removed the parchment from his leg, patted him on the head and sent him off. Dudley and Petunia looked surprised. "Who's it from?" Dudley asked.

"It's from Ron," said Harry. His eyes widened, "Oh no! I need to go."

"What's wrong Harry?" Dudley asked, again.

"It's Ginny!" Harry exclaimed, "She's going into labor!"