Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything from the series. I just like to write for fun, so please do not sue me :-)


Chapter 1

Rainy days were not uncommon during the summer holidays in England. The folks who lived there took the gray skies the same as they did the blue. Still, it wasn't unusual for the gray-cloudy weather to put a damper on most people's moods. They didn't even need a reason for being down . . . the sunless skies would just make them so.


Of course, there were some who had every reason to feel down, no matter what the weather. Such was the case of a young boy by the name of Harry Potter. To the outsider, Harry seemed like the typical shy teenage boy. But Harry was anything but typical.


Harry was wizard . . . a teenage wizard in training really. Yet, at the tender age of fourteen, he had already defeated an evil wizard in a few battles, become the youngest Tri-Wizard Champion, and had helped many friends and even foes. In the wizarding world, Harry Potter was a hero.


However, at the moment, Harry Potter was not in the wizarding world. He was actually stuck in the Muggle world which was full of non-magical people who didn't always appreciate Harry and his kind. In fact, Harry's uncle, Vernon Dursley, and aunt, Petunia Dursley, positively despised anything that had to do with magic . . . especially their nephew.


For this reason, Harry spent most of his time up in his small bedroom. From there, he could look out at the dismal surroundings of Number Four Privet Drive. But he could be looking at the most beautiful sunset ever and he would still feel the way he did when it rained.


Harry was staring blankly out his window one morning, watching the rain splattering against the pane when his Aunt Petunia screeched up the stairs at him. "Come down here, you lazy boy," she bellowed. "Now!" Rolling his eyes, Harry slowly left the solitude of his bedroom and headed down to the kitchen.


As he walked into the cheery room, Harry noticed that neither his uncle or his cousin, Dudley, were there. Without thinking, he asked, "Where's Uncle Vernon and Dudley?"


Immediately, Aunt Petunia turned on him and gave him a cold glare. "That's none of your business, now is it?"


Harry sighed and slid into his seat at the table. He'd just taken a bite of toast when Aunt Petunia slammed a piece of paper down on the table next to him. "What's this?" the boy asked, dreading that he already knew the answer. The vicious gleam in his aunt's eyes confirmed his suspicions.


"This . . . is a list of chores. I expect everything on it to be done . . . and done properly. If we're to be stuck with you then it's only right that you earn your keep." Harry raised an eyebrow at that but remained silent. "I'll be out all day, but Mrs. Figg will be keeping an eye on you . . . so don't think that you can just lay around doing nothing all day."


"You mean like Dudley," Harry muttered under his breath. If his aunt heard him, she chose not to respond. Instead, she snatched up her purse and stormed out of the kitchen. Glancing down at the list of jobs, Harry groaned lightly. Over half of the work would need to be done outside . . . in the rain. For a moment, he considered leaving those duties for later; but one look outside told him that the weather was probably at its best right then. He shoved the rest of his toast in his mouth, then slowly made his way out the back door.


Most days went on with a similar routine. The aspect of getting up and facing a new day got harder and harder. But Harry kept going because he knew that each day that passed brought him closer to what he desired most . . . to leave the Dursley's and return to the wizarding world. But until that time, Harry did have one bright spot to look forward to . . . His Birthday!


On the night of July 30th, Harry found himself once again staring out his bedroom window. It wasn't the weather he was interested in, but rather something else. Owls, to be precise. Harry owned a Snowy white owl named Hedwig. He was waiting impatiently for the bird to return. Two days before, he'd sent Hedwig to deliver a letter to his best friend, Ron Weasley. Normally, Hedwig would be back within a day, but Harry suspected that she was making a few unscheduled stops.


For, at midnight, it would be Harry's fifteenth birthday. The past couple years, owls would arrive shortly after midnight with cards and presents from his friends. This was one of the few highlights in Harry's summer. With a bit of a sigh, Harry walked back over to his bed and plopped down on it. 'Might as well get some homework done,' he thought to himself. Try as he might, Harry found it to be nearly impossible to concentrate on his reading. Feeling frustrated, the boy closed his book and then covered his eyes with one arm.


A whooshing sound startled him and he quickly opened his eyes. Sitting on his bed was a large brown owl. "Oh," Harry said quietly, "You're from the school . . . Did you bring something from Hagrid?" The bird eyed him with haughtiness, then began to groom its feathers. Frowning, Harry undid the letter from the owl's leg. As soon as he did, the large creature ruffled its feathers, gave a disdainful hoot, and flew back out the window. "I would have given you some water," Harry muttered, knowing full well that the bird would not turn back even so.


Looking at the envelope in his hands, Harry immediately recognized it as being his School's yearly welcome letter. Opening it, he read the standard message written by Professor Minerva McGonagall and then pulled out his list of needed supplies. He glanced through it once, then double checked before he said with relief, "No dress robes . . . that's good."


Students wore dress robes for special occasions. Last year it had been the Yule Ball. Harry had been hoping to not have to go through one of those again. He had been expected, as one of the Tri-Wizard competitors, to bring a date. His first choice had been a girl named Cho Chang. She was a year older and from the Ravenclaw house. Neither of those were a problem. In truth, Harry's house, the Gryffindors, and Ravenclaw, and a third house, Hufflepuff, all got along very well. The only house that didn't get along with the rest of the school was the Slytherins.


Harry folded back up the papers as his thoughts continued to dwell on the past year. He could still remember how awkward he felt when he finally got the nerve to ask Cho to the dance. By that time, however, she had already made other plans . . . with the Hufflepuff, seventh year, Cedric Diggory. Harry had felt stupid after that, feeling as if he had been reaching for something well out of his reach. Of course, he had more of a chance with Cho than his friend, Ron, had with the half-Veela, Fleur Delacour. Chuckling, Harry recalled the look of shock on his poor friend's face after he had asked Fleur to go to the dance with him. She hadn't even given him an answer; just stared at him with a look that spoke volumes.


It still wouldn't have been so bad if Harry and Ron would have got through their delusional desires a bit sooner and asked the two girls who would have gone with them. Hermione Granger was Harry and Ron's other best friend. The three of them had been through so many troubles and adventures together. It would have actually been fun for the three of them to all go together . . . but Hermione already had a date for the ball. Harry had found it to be interesting how that fact seemed to really irritate Ron. He wondered how long it would take for Ron to realize that he was showing signs of liking Hermione as more than a friend. He couldn't help but think that it might take a couple smacks to the head to knock some sense into the boy.


Not only was Ron rather dense when it came to his feelings, but he seemed to be completely clueless when it came to other people's feelings as well. Ron knew . . . well, pretty much everyone knew . . . that his little sister, Ginny, had a crush on Harry since before she actually met him. And, just like everyone else, Harry was aware of the young girl's feelings for him. The poor girl was endlessly teased by her older brothers when she was around Harry. For the most part, Harry just ignored the whole thing and kept a polite, but distant friendship with Ginny. That was why when Ron had suggested in front of Ginny that Harry take his sister to the ball, he'd felt a bit nervous.


Harry didn't have to be nervous for long. It turned out that Ginny, too, already had a date. As it was only with one of Harry's housemates, Neville Longbottom, he immediately put it out of his mind. It was only later, as he watched Ginny wincing with each step, that he regretted that he hadn't asked her to go with him. He didn't really know her that well, but he knew that she would have been more fun then the girl he had gone with . . . Parvati Patil.


Another swooshing sound broke Harry out of his reverie. Looking up, he smiled at the sight of a small owl flying madly around the light fixture. "Pig," he called, trying not to be too loud. "Come down here." The tiny bird immediately obeyed and soon Harry was untying letters and parcels from its twitching leg. Once free of its burden, Pigwidgeon (its full name), flew over to the bird cage to drink some water.


Harry looked down at the pile before him and smiled. Picking up the first letter, he read,



Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday, dear! I wanted to make sure that you had all the trimmings since we can't give them to you in person. As soon as Professor Dumbledore gives his permission, we will come and get you. Until then, please take care of yourself and behave.

With Love,

Molly Weasley



Placing the letter on the bed, Harry picked up the package and tore it open. Inside, he found a birthday cake, pumpkin juice, woolly handmade socks, and a variety of treats from Honeydukes. Popping one of the Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans into his mouth, Harry reached for the next letter.


Upon opening it, Harry frowned at the handwriting. He didn't recognize it. But shortly into the note, he realized who it was from.



Hello Harry,

Happy Birthday! I hope that life at your Muggle family's place isn't too horrible for you. You shouldn't have to stay there much longer, I hope. We've all been writing to Professor Dumbledore asking him to please give his permission for you to come stay with us. The twins even sent him a large box of Canary Creams to soften him up. Speaking of the twins, Fred and George say Hi and Happy Birthday! The gift attached is from the three of us. It's another invention of the twins' and they're hoping you'd try it out for them. Now, they're not for you to use yourself. It's sort of a gag on Muggles. Just put some into your cousin's tea and you'll understand. Well, that's all for now. Hope to see you safely here soon.

Ginny



A bit surprised that Ginny had written to him . . . and written so much, Harry glanced over the note again. Towards the bottom, there was an odd mark. Harry thought it was strange for Ginny to have put it there, but he figured she was just doodling. Exchanging the letter for the gift, Harry cautiously opened it up to find several cubes of sugar in a small wooden box. Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering what the sugar would do. Shaking his head, he decided that he'd take Ginny's advice and find out at breakfast.


Reaching out to pick up the last letter, Harry was happy to see it was from Ron. Quickly, he opened it and read,



Harry!

Happy Birthday! How's the Muggles treating you? Are they still as horrible as they've been in the past? Well, hopefully soon we'll be able to get you out of there and bring you here. The twins, mum, and I have been hounding Dumbledore none stop. Ginny just wrote one letter to him . . . one very LONG letter. She wouldn't let anyone read it, so none of us knows what all she could have written to him about. Mine were all short and to the point. Still, no reply.

I don't know if you've heard from Hermione or not. She decided not to go visit Vicki. Wise choice, if you ask me. She has been writing to him though. I don't see what they'd have to write about. Hermione knows next to squat about Quidditch and Vicki knows next to squat about everything but Quidditch. I hope he's not writing a bunch of lovey-dovey stuff. Hermione's smart . . . book smart, but she seems to go starry-eyed over the biggest, egotistic, liars she can find. She really needs to look for someone more down to earth.



Harry chuckled at that. 'You mean someone more like you, huh Ron?' he thought to himself. Still smiling, he finished reading the letter.



Well, anyway, I thought that I'd get you something this year to help entertain you until you can come here to stay. Read over the enclosed instructions and then look at the bottom of this letter. Take care and hang in there!

Your friend,

Ron



Glancing down a bit, Harry noticed a marking on the letter that was similar to the one on Ginny's. He sat the letter down and picked up the small parcel. Inside it was a quill and an ink bottle. Harry made a face. "This is supposed to entertain me?" he muttered, wondering what Ron was getting at. He started to toss the box aside when a piece of paper fluttered out, followed by a rectangular object.


Harry picked up the paper first. It read, 'Invisible Ink and Revealing Eraser'. That brought a smile to Harry's face. "Oh," he exclaimed, "I've heard of these things before." He reached down and retrieved the rectangular object from the floor. It looked like a normal pencil eraser. After quickly skimming over the instructions, Harry began to rub the eraser over the area below the mark on Ron's letter. A message slowly appeared.


'Coming to a town near you! -- Draco Malfoy! -- The Amazing, Bouncing Ferret!'


Harry laughed aloud, then quickly covered his mouth with his hand to quiet the sound. He didn't really want to wake up his relatives. Still, thinking back to the time when the most obnoxious student at Hogwarts was turned into a ferret was too much. He momentarily buried his face in his pillow to stifle his laughter. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help thinking, 'It feels good to laugh like this.'


Just then, another owl flew through the window. Harry sat back up, looking at the bird. "Hedwig!" he cried out softly. "I was hoping you'd get back soon." The white owl looked up expectantly at her owner as he untied the few items from her leg. Then, with a leap, Hedwig landed on the boy's shoulder and nipped affectionately at his ear. Harry fished out a treat from his pocket and gave it to his pet. With that, the owl flew over to her cage and joined Pig.


There were three more packages now lying on Harry's bed unopened. He picked up the first and opened the letter that was with it.



Dear Harry,

I do hope this reaches you by your birthday. Ron had sent Hedwig to me so I could send you your gift. Its not much, I'm afraid. I haven't really been able to get out much because of the way things are right now. Has Professor Dumbledore sent word on when you can go stay with the Weasleys? I do hope that it's soon. I'm hoping to meet you all a Diagon Alley at the end of August. I promised Ginny that I'd help her with some of her shopping. Well, I better end this so Hedwig can get it to you. Please keep yourself safe.

With Love From,

Hermione



Harry started to refold the note when he noticed something written down further on the paper. Reopening it, he read,


'P.S. Don't tell Ron, but I have been made a Prefect. Isn't that fantastic!'


Fantastic, Harry wasn't sure about; but it definitely wasn't surprising. Hermione was the smartest student at Hogwarts. And she was usually quite sensible . . . except occasionally when persuaded not to be by Ron and himself. "Wonder why she wasn't worried about telling me about this," he muttered as he folded up the note, "but she doesn't want Ron to know." As it was too late at night for him to ponder about this, he decided to just concentrate on opening his remaining gifts.


Hermione had sent him a picture in a frame of her, Ron, and himself. It had been taken back in their second year before their first day of classes. Being a wizarding photo, their images moved about as they would do in life. Ron and he were goofing off while Hermione looked on disapprovingly. Then Ron would tap her around her back on the other shoulder and laugh as she would scowl, sigh, and finally give one of her small smiles. Harry wasn't certain, but it seemed as if those two actually pestered each other on purpose.


Setting the picture on his night table, Harry began to open his next letter.



Harry,

How are you, my boy? I wish that I could be there with you, but I'm still off running errands for Professor Dumbledore. Hopefully, I'll be back sometime during the school year. Till then, take care of yourself, Harry. And watch your back!

Hagrid



The letter sounded a bit odd coming from Hagrid, but Harry brushed off the doubts and opened his present. In the box was a backpack. Pinned on the outside, a note read,


'Keep your most treasured possessions together so you'll always know where they are.'


Harry gazed at the pack, his mind beginning to calculate just what he would keep in it. A yawn, however, cut his thoughts short. Deciding to leave it for the next day, Harry picked up the last envelope. Inside it he found a letter from his Godfather, Sirius Black, supposed criminal and murderer. The letter was very simple.



Harry,

I hope you are well. Keep up good spirits. I've included here some letters of you dad's that I thought you might like to read. Happy Birthday!

Take Care!

Snuffles



Snuffles was the name Harry, Ron, and Hermione used for Sirius as he was still hiding from certain people within the ministry. Though believed to be a traitor in alignment with Voldemort and the murderer of thirteen Muggles and one wizard, Harry knew that wasn't the truth about his Godfather. He knew that Sirius had been framed by one of his friends, Peter Pettigrew, whom he had been accused of killing. But Pettigrew was far from dead. He had actually transformed into a rat and hid, leaving Sirius to take all the blame.


Sirius had been taken to Azkaban. Only two years ago, though, he'd escaped and found Harry. It had turned out that Pettingrew had found Harry too, as he'd been posing as Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, for twelve years. Now, both men were in hiding.


Harry stared down at the additional papers in his hand, noticing them shaking slightly. His dad's letters . . . his dad's thoughts. It felt so overwhelming, that Harry clutched the letters to his chest and closed his eyes. He only meant to close them for a moment, to give himself a chance to calm his emotions. But instead, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep; a true rarity for him.


When he woke in the morning, Harry was still holding his dad's letters in his hands. He was just about to open up the first one to read when his Aunt Petunia's voice came loudly from the kitchen. Quickly, he put the letters in his new backpack and shoved it under his pillow. He had almost reached the door when he suddenly stopped and rushed back over to his night table. Harry grabbed up the small box containing the sugar cubes and hurried downstairs.


This morning when he entered the Dursley kitchen, he was greeted by the sight of Uncle Vernon scowling from behind a newspaper, Aunt Petunia huffing around by the stove, and Dudley whining to anyone who'd listen about how hungry he was. Sliding into his seat, Harry picked up a slice of toast and munched on it quietly. He didn't expect anyone there to wish him a happy birthday. It would have been a shock to have any of them greet him with a simple hello.


Noticing that Aunt Petunia had just poured her husband a cup of tea, Harry began to grin mischievously. He quickly wiped the look off his face when his cousin glanced over at him. As a decoy, Harry casually picked up a piece of bacon that had been deliberately placed far away from Dudley. His portly cousin eyed him greedily as Harry moved his hand towards his plate. However, Harry didn't stop there, but seemingly by accident dropped the meaty delight on the floor between him and Dudley. The larger boy only paused a second before diving down under the table to retrieve the delicious treasure.


Seeing that all eyes were preoccupied at the moment, Harry pulled out some cubes of sugar from his shirt pocket and dropped one in each cup of his three relatives. For a moment, Harry worried that the sugar might arouse some suspicion in appearance or taste. But he didn't need to worry. Dudley reappeared from under the table with a triumphed glint in his beady eyes. It was difficult for Harry to not look anxious as he watched his cousin out of the corner of his eye pick up his tea cup. Harry nearly held his breath as he waited for Dudley to finish gulping his drink. When he finally did, Harry felt a bit disappointed.


No horns had sprouted from the boy's head or anything like that. In fact, he looked as fat and pudgy looking as always. Harry wondered if perhaps George, Fred, and Ginny had sent him just some normal sugar as a gag on him. He could easily see the twins doing such a thing, but he didn't think Ginny would do that. With an internal shrug, Harry picked up his own tea and began to take a sip. As the first gulp scalded his throat, Harry glanced back over at Dudley. His eyes widened . . . then blinked . . . before he could help it, Harry spit out a mouthful of tea.


"Hey! Watch it!" squealed Dudley.


Both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon glared at the young wizard. But what amazed Harry was that none of them seemed to notice that Dudley was now sitting at the table looking exactly like a large . . . Very large . . . china doll. Small curly locks flowed on the top of his head. His cheeks were rosy red, as were his lips. Harry was fascinated by how shiny his cousin's skin appeared to be even.


"What are you staring at?" Dudley cried, starting to get nervous. He glanced back at his mother who was still nailing Harry down with a hard stare. "Mum," Dudley whined, "Make him stop looking at me like that!"


Uncle Vernon made a slight growling sound from behind the paper he was once again reading. Harry noticed that his uncle's tea cup was no longer on the table. Nibbling on the rest of his toast, Harry waited with anticipation for Uncle Vernon to put his newspaper down.


"Dad!" Dudley bellowed suddenly, "He's doing it to you now!"


The newspaper shook slightly as Uncle Vernon's voice rumbled from behind it. "Doing What? You best not be doing any of your . . . nonsense . . ."


Harry didn't hear the rest of what the older man said as the paper come down. At that moment, he was too startled by the sight of Uncle Vernon dressed as a clown, right down to the large red nose. Harry glanced back and forth between the Dudley china doll and the Uncle Vernon clown. The two Muggles eyed him suspiciously and then turned to look at each other. The _expression of pure confusion on the two's faces made Harry begin to choke on the bit of toast he had just swallowed.


"What's going on here," Aunt Petunia exclaimed as she fussed over her large son. She, too, didn't seem to notice the new looks that her husband and son wore. It was clear that they all thought that Harry might be losing his sanity and therefore could at any moment whip out his wand on them.


With great effort, Harry made his face go blank as he shrugged at the three. "I just swallowed wrong," he managed to mutter. He picked up his cup of tea and took a sip. The action must have been contagious as the other three all took drinks of their tea as well.


Trying not to stare, Harry kept a close eye on his aunt, who was now sitting at the table. Though she had drunk some of her tea, she still looked unchanged. Then slowly, as if a mask was peeling away, her appearance began to alter. Her thin cheeks filled out some and took on a rosy glow. The graying hair turned a snowy white and curled softly around her face. Harry blinked rapidly as his bitter aunt turned into a charming old woman. Something about the way she looked seemed so familiar . . . like he had seen her look that way before. But that was impossible.


Aunt Petunia looked up from her plate to find her nephew watching her with an almost awed _expression. For just a second, her own _expression softened and she nearly smiled at him. The moment was broken, however, by the ringing of the doorbell. Somewhat flustered, Aunt Petunia grumbled, "Make yourself useful, boy, and go answer the door."


Harry paused only a moment before getting up and leaving the kitchen. Opening the front door, he couldn't help by exclaim, "Mrs. Figg? What are you doing here?"


The elderly woman tutted him, then said, "Where are your manners, boy? Is that anyway to greet a guest?"


Harry shook his head as he stuttered, "Uh . . . no . . . Sorry, Mrs. Figg. Please come in. Everyone's in the kitchen right now."


"Fine, fine," Mrs. Figg said as she whooshed by the young boy. "I just need a word with your aunt and then I'll be on my way."


Harry led her back to the kitchen and sat down at the table. Noticing Aunt Petunia staring a the kitchen entrance with an odd _expression, Harry turned back to look at their guest.


Mrs. Figg was standing stock still in the doorway with a look upon her face that seemed to be torn between being appalled and being utterly amused. It took Harry a minute to realize the reason for this. Glancing back and forth between his family and the older woman, Harry realized that Mrs. Figg, unlike his family, could see the same changes that he could see. And if Muggles could not ever see the effects of the sugar cubes . . . and only people with magic in their blood could . . . then . . .


"Would you care for some tea, Arabella," Aunt Petunia asked eyeing the woman cautiously.


Mrs. Figg seemed to recover quickly as she smiled politely and said, "No thank you, dear. I just came over to pick up those seeds you got for me. Besides," she glanced over at Harry, "Too much tea can have strange effects on people."


Harry looked quickly away feeling somewhat guilty. Aunt Petunia fetched the seeds for Mrs. Figg, talking idly about neighborhood gossip. The older woman, however, kept giving Harry a look that made him think of Hermione or Professor McGonagall.

After awhile, Mrs. Figg cut Aunt Petunia off by saying, "Petunia, dear, I really must be going. If someone could just see me out . . ."


Harry didn't have to look up to know that all eyes were on him. With a light sigh, he stood and moved out of the kitchen towards the front door. Mrs. Figg followed. Silently, Harry opened the door, but wasn't surprised when Mrs. Figg didn't walk right out. Feeling nervous, he raised his gaze up to meet with the older woman's.


It amazed him to find her almost smiling at him. In fact, her eyes were sparkling like Professor Dumbledore's often did. With a hint of amusement, she said, "Take care, young Potter . . . and try to not get into too much mischief." Having said that, she turned and walked out the door. Still surprised, Harry closed the door and headed up to his room.


Plopping down on his bed, Harry stared off into space. "I can't believe it," he muttered to himself. "Mrs. Figg is a witch . . . she has to be." He didn't get much of a chance to ponder about this new revelation as a tawny owl just then zoomed into his room. It was Percy's owl, Hermes. As Pig had just come from the Weasley's house the night before, Harry was surprised and a little worried seeing the other family owl.


He took the note off the bird's leg and opened it. The message inside was short and to the point. And it immediately brought a smile to Harry's face. With a small whoop of joy, Harry looked at his own owl and said, "Finally, Hedwig . . . we've got the okay to go to Ron's."



*******Note: I just want to thank Paula for Beta reading this and all her great advice. Also, thanks to all for having patience with me while I learn how to attach files (especially the Correct files) to e-mails :-P Just to let any of you who have read this first chapter know, this story is all written out. I just have to type it up, get it Beta read, make corrections, then get the Correct version sent in - so you shouldn't have to wait too long between chapters. Thanks for reading my first HP fanfic & I hope you all enjoy it.
~~ Robin (Serayaluv)*******