The first wisp of morning's light had yet to reach the residents of Privet Drive. The identical suburban homes sat next to each other, still submerged in the serene darkness of the night. The sky covered the area like a thick dark blanket, folding over the luminous half moon gleamed brightly, and the shining white stars speckled above, giving harmony to the night.
To an outsider, someone far away, the houses of the drive all looked peaceful, and to most, they were. Right down Privet Drive, most of the residents slept soundly, chests rising and falling in a steady unison. It was almost silent, the only noise being a relaxed breath or a slightly muffled snore. Oddly, however, the quietest person on the drive was wide awake and had been the whole night.
Despite the sweltering temperature of the hot summers night, Harry Potter sat shivering on the centre of his bed, clinging on to a single ratted sheet for warmth. His teeth chattered against each other, but Harry didn't dare make a sound. If he made a sound he could risk waking his Uncle Vernon, and as much as he loathed to admit it Harry was terrified of what his uncle would do to him if Harry disrupted his sleep. Harry had tried to go to sleep himself, but he found that with every move he made he aggravated one of his injuries from the summer. So instead of sleeping, Harry had resorted to staring out of his window.
There wasn't much to see from Harry's bedroom, even with no curtains to obstruct the window. He couldn't see much out the window anyway, because they were covered with thick metal bars. Through the gaps in the bars, all that could be seen were rows and rows of identical suburban homes, all painted the same colour of cream.
Before Harry had started Hogwarts, he would have found the jail-like feel of the room to be cruel treatment, even though it was a huge step up from the cupboard. But now, this was nothing compared to what happens during waking hours. This summer, Harry's uncle had started to beat him. To tell the truth, Harry wasn't all too sure what had caused this sudden outburst from his Uncle. Yes, his relatives had never appreciated his presence, but they had never gone further than just slapping Harry.
Perhaps it was the Ton-Tongue Toffee that sent him over the edge. Or maybe it was the fact that Harry had been waking everyone up well before sunrise because of nightmares. Or maybe, Harry thought, they've realised what a burden I really am.
About an hour later the sun began to rise on Privet Drive. Most residents savoured the morning views out their windows, but Harry could hardly see anything besides a wisp of orange light peeking through his window. This was, however, enough, and Harry could tell that morning had arrived. Outside Privet Drive, the sun rose above the horizon, revealing a bright blue sky with the occasional candy floss cloud.
On the other side of the door, Harry heard the rustling of locks alerting him that his uncle was there. Harry stood up with a great deal of pain and walked over to the loose floorboard, where he kept the most important of his items. Shoving his wand and invisibility cloak into his pocket he waited for the door to open. Harry had slept in clothes last night, not sure whether it was out of anticipation for today or the fact that getting changed around all of his bruises had become a tedious task.
"Get in the car, boy."
Uncle Vernon entered the room and thrust Harry's trunk into his room before retreating back down the stairs to the garage. As Harry grabbed the trunk and followed in his Uncle's path, he smiled for the first time he had all summer. Today, he was leaving Privet Drive and going to the Weasley's. Uncle Vernon would be taking him to King's Cross Station. He wasn't taking the train to The Burrow, obviously, but Harry didn't want to aggravate his Uncle by asking him to drop him off at a wizard pub so he could travel by fireplace. He could walk to The Leaky Cauldron anyway.
Harry was surprised that his Uncle had agreed to take him anywhere at all. While it was true that he wasn't fond of Harry's company around the house, it was unheard of for him to do anything that had the slightest bit to do with wizards. When Harry had asked, his uncle had replied with a nearly inaudible grunt of approval, muttering that he had to go into London for business anyway.
Vernon's face now spoke that he regretted agreeing to this, his eyebrows furring up in annoyance has he went to open the car door. It was a pale coloured car, and as normal as could be. It didn't look at all out of place anywhere in London. Harry's uncle would no doubt be furious that somebody of Harry's 'kind' was sitting in the car. Harry got into the vehicle, remembering to distance himself from his uncle by getting into the back seat. The garage door opened with a creek, and they set off for a deadly silent journey.
Neither of the two spoke a word the entire drive, yet Harry's head was full of a tornado of screaming thoughts that no level of silence could make quiet. He couldn't stop thinking about everything. He thought about how he would manage to cover up all of his new bruises and scars when he left with the Weasley's to go to Hogwarts. Harry knew deep down that he should tell somebody, but he just couldn't bring himself to place that kind of trust upon anyone. Harry was scared. Scared that Uncle Vernon would find out that somebody knew, and take to killing him. Scared that nobody would care. But more than anything, he was scared that everyone would agree with his Uncle, and start to hurt him too.
Just over an hour later, they arrived at King's Cross Station. Harry gave his thanks and went to get his trunk out of the car boot, no expecting a reply of any sort from his uncle. As soon as he had his stuff, Harry went inside the station so he could be sure that his Uncle thought he was catching the train to Hogwarts.
Harry looked around at the station around him, cherishing the memories that it brought with it. The place he boarded the Hogwarts express for the very first time. The place where he met his first and best friend. The place where his happiness began. The station seemed to provide an overwhelming warmth, but not just in temperature. It provided Harry with the warmth and comfort of knowing that there was somewhere he truly belonged, Hogwarts.
Harry probably could've got someone to meet him here and take him to the Burrow, but that would raise suspicions and the last thing he wanted right now was for anyone to worry about him. He loathed to admit it, but he was currently starving. The thought of Mrs Weasley's cooking in mind, Harry set off through Muggle London to the Leaky Cauldron.
Admittedly, Harry was scared that he would run into another wizard on his walk, so he tried with no avail to smooth his black hair over his scar, but gave up deciding that it was no use. Harry hadn't spent much time roaming London in the past, and this was his first time doing it alone, so he wasn't sure how many wizards were doing the same. Harry didn't spend much time outside of school or the Dursley's home when he was younger, but he could remember a few distinct times when somebody recognised him in public. At the time he had been blissfully unaware of his fame, so the interactions had been rather odd.
One time, he had been in town with all the Dursleys so that Dudley could visit a new toy store, Hamleys (Mrs. Figg was unavailable.). While he had been walking down the street, Dudley's hand full of bags bursting with new things, Harry used his hand to try and pull some of his hair out of his face. While he did this, an oddly dressed man stopped in his tracks and stared at Harry with a look of shock. Harry didn't know at the time, but the man had recognised his scar.
"Blimey, are you really," - the man stopped for a second, before nervously saying his name, "Harry Potter?"
Harry gave a shy nod, unsure of what was going on. He extended his arm out to meet Harry's and gave him a firm shake of the hand. Vernon and Petunia shared a dangerous look, but Harry didn't notice it.
"It truly is a pleasure." The man stated, before walking off and adjusting his hat, muttering a few words, of which to younger Harry seemed to include "Hero" and "Savior".
Harry later reached the leaky cauldron, thankfully avoiding any unwanted encounters on his way. He entered the wizard pub, staring down at the floor so he would go unnoticed. He wasn't really in the mood for paparazzi right now. Harry went over to the fireplace before speaking his first words since the train station and dropped the Floo powder.
"The Burrow."
Harry stumbled through into the Burrow. Soot on his nose, he realised that he had just entered while the Weasley's were in the middle of having lunch. Harry's arrival didn't go unnoticed. Mrs Weasley placed the plates down that she was serving.
"Oh hello, Harry Dear! I'm just serving lunch but don't worry, come have a seat!" she said, pulling him into a motherly hug, aggravating the bruises that Harry was hiding underneath his clothes. Evidently, she must have felt Harry's ribs underneath the hug, because she pulled out, hands still on Harry's shoulders and gave him a good look. She took in his bloodshot and exhausted appearance, and it was clear the others did too, for he was now at the receiving end of many worried glances. "Harry dear, you're all skin and bones! Have you been eating enough? I must fatten you up. Come on dear, have a seat next to Ron."
Harry went over and sat in the seat next to Ron, dropping his trunk as he did so.
"Hey, Harry! Sorry, I haven't been writing to you that much, but Dumbledore's had everything on really tight watch."
"Oh, It's fine, I've been pretty busy too." Harry Lied. "How was your summer?"
"It was great, but I wish you had come earlier of course. You won't believe me, but I have something to tell you. The weirdest thing happened over the summer! Fred and George purchased me a whole new set of dress robes!" Harry saw the twins smirk at him out the corner of his eye. "I thought they were going to blow up or something, knowing them, but Mum did all these tests on the robes, and they're perfectly fine! Can you believe it!"
"Wow," Harry said with a laugh. "That was really kind of them." It took all of Harry's might not to burst out in peels of laughter.
Fred joined in the conversation.
"It may seem hard to believe, but we have a new, and anonymous, investor. Bloody good chap he was if you ask me."
"Sounds like a great guy." Replied Harry, laughing harder than he had all summer. It felt good to be back.
Harry saw his plate being stacked with piles of sausages, beans, and mashed potatoes. Harry opened his mouth in protest, but Mrs Weasley silenced him. Harry was grateful, as he had been starving for weeks.
"Nonsense. Just eat as much as you can dear." She said soft and motherly. Harry did his best to eat as much of the food as he can, after all, it had been awhile since he'd had a proper meal. However, he found that being more or less starved over the course of the summer, his stomach had changed in size and he was barely able to keep very much food in. A few more spoonfuls of mashed potatoes in and Harry looked and felt like he was going to puke if had so much as another crumb. This was noticed by everyone at the table, but with a stern look from Mrs Weasley, nobody said anything.
Sat around the wooden table in mismatched chairs, sat five members of the Weasley family. Next to Harry sat Ron, and on other seats around the table were Ginny, Fred, George and Molly. Harry figured that the older Weasley children and Mr Weasley must be out for work. The walls were full of a comforting clutter. Cuckoo clocks sat in their respective positions, watching over the family as they ate, and photos of a family of gingers sat diagonally on the wall. The house had a wooden feel to it, and felt magical in every way, from the lopsidedness of the whole thing or the dishes washing themselves. On a burgundy chair in the distance, a pair of knitting needles were floating in midair, flawlessly knitting what at this stage, looked to be a scarf.
Harry had noticed Ginny giving him looks the whole meal, and she blushed every time that she and Harry made eye contact.
"How was your summer Ginny?" asked Harry, trying to break the tension and divert the worried eyes that kept sneaking glances his way.
"Oh, thanks… er, I mean good, thank you." She gave a famous Weasley blush and took a sudden interest in her knees.
George looked up from his meal to speak. "So how was your summer, Harry? I don't think you've mentioned anything."
Harry froze. He had been trying to avoid this question, and he had until now.
"It was good, I guess," said Harry, trying to sound believable. Although, the dark bags under his eyes and the traumatised look about him told a different story. Changing the subject, Harry spoke again. "Come to think of it, I've been dying for a fly. Do you want to play Quidditch?" The Weasley children all nodded. Mrs Weasley looked at all of the plates on the table. There were 6 empty ones, but Harry's looked almost untouched. She sighed. Part of her wanted to grab the boy in a hug and tell him everything was going to be OK. She knew the Dursley's were bad, but she was starting to have suspicions beyond that.
The four boys left the table, Ginny looking slightly awkward. Harry noticed the uncomfortable look on Ginny's face, so asked if she wanted to join. She nodded, gave a slight smile and joined them as they went to a small field out back with their broomsticks. As they went outside their feet crunched on the dry, colourless grass which showed that it hadn't been raining much the whole summer.
"I've been trying to that dive you did in the last match Harry, but it's just too hard! How do you do it?" Asked Ron, as they got ready to go into the air. Harry shrugged as he gripped the handle of the broom. Harry hadn't realised how much his hand had been shaking now. As he picked up his Firebolt, he suddenly found it immensely difficult to keep it steady and mount it.
"Alright, Harry?" Asked Fred from above, already flying on his broom.
"Yeah. Fine." He gripped his broom with a strong grab and hoisted himself onto it. As his feet left the ground and he began to hover, he felt all his worries drift away. It was as if he had left them on the ground, a huge weight suddenly off his shoulders. He suddenly felt as if he had so much energy, despite not sleeping at all the previous night. He no longer worried about what the Dursley's had done to him. He longer worried about anything but staying on the broom.
The four drifted around for a few hours. They had started off by throwing apples from a nearby tree and seeing who could catch the most, but found that the raven-haired seeker would constantly win, so they settled for a game of quidditch, but without the equipment. It started fine, but eventually some of the moves they had been doing became so outrageous that they had to call it off. It was Fred and George against Ron, Harry, and Ginny, and every time one of the twins 'threw' the quaffle in an attempt to score points, Ron would make a miraculous save no matter how far away from the imaginary rings he actually was. Eventually, while Ron and Fred were in a heated argument, they all heard Mrs Weasley's voice.
"Boys and Ginny, do you want to come inside for some dinner?" she yelled through an open window in the kitchen. Harry hadn't realised how much time had passed while they were outside, as it felt like they had just sat down to lunch. The five of them all dismounted their brooms and went inside to the table, where Mr and Mrs Weasley were already seated on their chairs.
Harry hadn't eaten two meals this close since Hogwarts, and he found it to be hard on his malnourished body, even though he knew that he needed the food. He took as much as he can, which still wasn't a lot, and tried to eat it. It was as if his stomach had suddenly taken a drastic decrease in size, trying to accommodate for how little he had been able to eat over the summer.
"I've set you up a bed in Ron's room Harry. Is that alright?" Spoke Mrs Weasley. Everyone besides Harry was too involved with their mouthfuls of food to notice the conversation. Harry nodded. He wasn't really sure himself why he didn't answer; he didn't have any food in his mouth after all.
When everyone else's eating speeds had decreased, conversations started to begin for the first time. The twins were talking in hushed whispers, but Harry could make out enough words to know that they were discussing the joke shop. Ron began raving to Harry about his favourite quidditch team the Chudley Cannons, when Ginny decided to but in and state that they had not, in fact, won a single game the entire season.
As Harry listened to the banter around him, he smiled. For the first time in so long, he felt welcome and content, and was around people who truly cared about him. He felt guilty about all the secrets he was hiding from them, and he dreaded the day they would find out. As much as he wanted somebody's comfort, he would rather suffer alone than place the burden of his problems on someone else's shoulders. Maybe one day.
Ron took a moment of silence as an opportunity to introduce Harry to the conversation going on.
"So what about you, Harry? What team are you supporting?"
"Er.." Harry began, not really sure what to say. As much as he loved quidditch, he didn't know anything about what had been happening in the sport over the summer.
"The Chudley Cannons seem great?" Said Harry, unsure whether this was the correct answer or not.
Across the table, George spat out his pumpkin juice, sending in splattering all over the table.
"Oh, Merlin! Two in the same house! Has Ron been brainwashing you?"
Ron looked pleased with himself, but the fact that Fred thought he was brainwashing Harry aggravated him a little.
As the conversation continued on, Harry started participating more and more. He felt at peace knowing that he was surrounded by people who loved him, and even though he knew that this wasn't enough to fix the events of the summer, in the moment, it felt just right.
A/N This isn't a one shot! We've had to evacuate school because of a 7.8 earthquake so I should have heaps of time to get chapter 2 up within the next week or so. Thanks for reading!