A/N: Ok so this isn't much of a chapter but it does set the scene. Let me know what you think and I'll try to get the next one up as quick as i can.
In Surry, there is a place called Little Whinging. The people of Little Whinging were glad to live in a place where nothing odd ever happened. In fact, if you were to ask them about their neighbors, they would say "they are just as normal as I am thank you!" No one knew just how wrong they were.
It was a hot, dry summer. There had been no rain or wind for several weeks, and it was starting to show. The nights, if it was possible, were worse than the days. The conditions had gotten so bad; the government was forced to ration the water usage. People's lawns suffered and died leaving the neighborhood as brown as sand.
But in all of Little Whinging, like in all other places, there was an exception. Amongst the dead lawns was a yard that still grew green. The owners of this well kept lawn were proud to say "we just take good care of it." What no one knew, and they didn't say, was that even they couldn't understand why it still grew.
Now this house, Number 4 on Privit drive, stood proudly in the center of town. Its owners' the Dursleys, were some of the most normal people you could ever meat. It was unfortunate that such a proud family was also the cause of every odd thing that happened, at least in the eyes of their neighbors anyway.
The Dursleys knew that the people around them thought they were the source of these weird events. Vernon Dursley denied the accusations, stating that "there is no way that was our fault!" His wife Petunia tired to ignore it and pretended she didn't see the blatant finger pointing that followed her around town. Their son, Dudley, had a more direct approach. He went around, bullying everyone's kids to stop them from saying what their parents believed.
The Dursley's, like many families, had a secret. One that they had them living in fear of someone learning what it was. They feared that someone might some day learn the truth about their nephew, and where he went every year. They had told everyone that he was attending some school for incurably criminal boys. For the most part, every one believed this to be the truth. No one knew the truth except the Dursley's them selves, and they had no plans on telling anyone anyway.
Their nephew, Harry potter, was not normal, at least not by his families' standards at any rate. His appearance alone was enough to make him stand out in this organized town. His large baggy cloths, his constantly messy black hair, and his bright green eyes made him stand out in even the biggest crowds. If a person looked close enough, though few did, they wood also notice a thin, lightening shaped scar on his forehead. It was this scar that made Harry truly unique.
Harry knew that everyone in Little Whinging believed him to be an unstable delinquent. He didn't mind. He knew he didn't belong in this world of his uncle's. He was just visiting for the summer, and was looking forward to going back to his own. For Harry Potter was no ordinary fifteen year old. He was a wizard, back from his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Unfortunately, he had about a month before going back to school, and with the events of the past year, he wasn't so sure he would survive to attend.
That night was warm and the sky was clear. The stars shown down from the heavens, keeping a watchful eye on the many residents of this small town. Harry was asleep in his bed, as the quiet of the night was broken with the sounds of his nightmares.
"No, Sirius!" he called softly as he watched his godfather take that fatal spell and once again fall through the mysterious veil. The scene changed and he was forced to watch his friend Ron Weasley being attacked by a flying brain. Another change and he watched Neville Longbottom receiver a broken nose. A flash and he was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange and the dark lord Voldemort. Another flash and his blood ran cold. He began to watch, as if in slow motion, as Hermione Granger took a spell to the chest and collapsed on the spot.
Harry bolted up in bed, panting heavily as his hand instinctively clutched at his burning scar. He sighed as he looked around the messy room he had called home for the past month. He has been in this room for most of the time and it showed it. He saw the empty cage resting on his desk and realized that his owl, Hedwig, had yet to return from his last letter over a week earlier.
As he stared out the window, he got the strange impression that some one was watching him. He stared out the window, trying to find the source of the uncommon feeling. He shrugged it off as it passed, however, and went back to sit on his bed. He was exhausted from his many sleepless nights and, despite his hardest effort, he was quickly asleep. As he did so, however, a thought crossed his mind 'Guess I'm still being guarded" and with that he was out cold. For the second time since he got back, Harry didn't have any nightmares. In fact it was a rather good dream, one he had been having since the ministry of magic incident the month before. He never really remembered what took place but he did know it was about a very special witch. He just couldn't make out who she was.
The neighborhood was abnormally dark, even for a new moon. Had anyone cared, enough they would have realized it wasn't natural. As it was, no one noticed the dark silhouette of a person standing on the roof of number four. The person's dark hair and cloths were good for blending in with the shadows but with the currant heat wave they were uncomfortable. Of coarse hiding on the Dursley's roof didn't help much, but the mission was clear, no one was to notice them. The person let out a barley audible sigh and stepped behind the chimney as a car drove by the house.
"This assignment sucks."
A/N: ok so thats the first chapter. Can't wait to know what you think of it. Oh and if any one would like to make me a banner i will gladly reward the person who makes the best one.