~1~

The night pressed hard against his eyeballs. Harry Potter strained through his glasses to see his transfiguration homework clearly. It was near the crack of dawn. He noticed that Dudley's snores had quieted down, and Aunt Petunia had begun fidgeting, making her bed creak beneath her. Harry always dreaded the morning. The evening was his escape back to the magical world. The world he liked to think of as his real home.

He reluctantly pulled his glasses off, shut his book, blew the candle out and let his body pull him into a deep slumber, only to be awakened by Aunt Petunia's never ceasing raps on the door an hour later. Harry forced his aching body to stretch out a leg in 5-sizes too big pants and place his foot on the floor. The cool breeze of air conditioning floated out of the vent and over the top of his foot, sending chills up and down his spine, yet helping in waking him up. As Harry trudged slowly down the stairs to start cooking breakfast, he could hear Aunt Petunia waking Dudley up in the next room.

"Wake up, Duddykins. I know, it's early, but my sweet baby has a busy day today," how she could call the thing that was beginning to resemble a small hippo a sweet baby, Harry never understood.

That morning, the Dursleys were going to shop for their vacation in the Bahamas. They were to leave Number Four of Privet Drive and Harry with Arabella Figg, the old lady that lived down the street. Of course Harry didn't adore his visits with Mrs. Figg, but almost anything was better than being with the Dursleys.

Harry rushed through making breakfast that morning so he could write back to Hermione and Ron. But Dudley always did everything he could to upset Harry. So, he claimed his bacon was overcooked, and wanted Harry to start over.

"Boy, where do you think you are going?" Uncle Vernon paused from his morning paper to look up at Harry. Harry paused as he was just about to leave the kitchen and rush upstairs. "You haven't even eaten the pastry your Aunt Petunia so graciously made for us today! You ungrateful little..." his beady eyes bulged.

Everything about Harry got him upset, from the way he talked to the way he breathed.

Harry had to sit through breakfast and listen to Uncle Vernon's barks about the drill factory and Dudley's complaints about everything he could think about.

Harry had been starving and was glad he ate, but he was even more anxious to write Ron and Hermione, whom he hadn't heard from all summer. As soon as he began climbing the stairs, the doorbell rang.

"Harry, boy, get the door!" Uncle Vernon boomed from the kitchen.

He walked back down the stairs and opened the door to find old Mrs. Figg standing there.

"Hello Harry dear, are you all packed?"