Harry sat cross-legged on the end of his four poster school bed, tucking ravenously into a dish of roast chicken and carrots and a full, thick glass of rich pumpkin juice which had been provided not long ago by a really small, well-nourished kitchen elf (it clearly received the frequent affections of someone who liked to feed it), who wore a small red hat which reminded Harry of a Muggle game his cousin used to be play named Super Mario. He'd pushed the idea of 6 weeks of stressful evening classes with Snape to the back of his mind, and was enjoying his current freedom, the prospect of what the next few weeks held was already outshining his normal summer with the Dursley's and they hadn't even happened yet. He had his whole day planned out; he wasn't going to waste a single minute. Harry would eat his lunch, go for a brief ride around the Quidditch pitch to burn off the calories he had consumed, recently he had been noticing his middle becoming more pronounced and wobbly, a result of the indulgences at Hogwarts. He would then complete his homework task set by his head of house and transfiguration teacher Minvera McGonagall, a 2 parchment length essay on shape shifters, something that had particularly interested Harry during the lesson; however the homework would not be so exciting.

The only bad part of today would be trudging down to Snape's potions class at 7pm to endure what could be hours of his less than pleasant company. Harry shuddered and shovelled another mouthful of chicken into his mouth, murmuring in appreciation, even if he would be with Snape this summer, at least he would have some good food. He wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand and left the plates and empty glass on the top of his chest of drawers, he had been assured by the kitchen elf that if placed there, they would be taken away and cleaned. The last thing he wanted was to get in trouble with his Professor for being untidy.

Under his bed, gathering a lot of dust and most likely housing a few sleepy spiders, was his Firebolt. After the recent demise of his Nimbus 2000, Harry had managed to acquire the new prototype broomstick ready for the new Quidditch season, and was yet to try it out due to a busy few weeks. Clutching the stick in his hands he stroked the magnificent wood patterns which criss-crossed over the surface; it was definitely a thing of beauty, well worth the hefty sum of galleons he had paid for it. Harry let out a sigh of contentment and gazed out the window which overlooked the rolling green hills that surrounded Hogwarts, he was in a much better place, and he should be grateful. Snape's kindness was unexpected, and suspiciously offered probably to benefit himself, but had not necessarily gone unappreciated.


Harry woke in sudden surprise; he was curled up in a tight cocoon ball at the end of his bed, the red Gryffindor duvet covers in a heap on the wooden floor, obviously having been kicked off in the middle of a rough dream. He yawned loudly and hopped off the bed, grabbing his broomstick which had been dropped in the middle of the room next to his chest of drawers, he noted that he plates had indeed been taken away. Whilst lazily pulling on his Quidditch robes he shot a glance at the old, alarm clock Ron had lent him in his first year of school, but had never asked for back.

'Blimey!' he exclaimed and rushed out of the dormitory, missing a step on his way down the winding stars. He had overslept by 3 hours, it was nearing 4pm in the afternoon, he only had 2 hours to do what he wanted to accomplish in the day, before he had to be back up in his common room for dinner, and then the dreaded class.

Harry had barely stepped out of the back entrance of the school which led to the Quidditch pitch, when he mounted his broom, he was about to kick off and soar into the brilliant fresh air, when a pale hand clutched the neck of his robes and yanked him off the broom. Harry found himself dangling in the air, arms flailing a confused expression covering his face.

'Potter, may I remind you that it is forbidden to mount your broom until you have reached the Quidditch Pitch unless in one of Madam Hooch's flying lessons.' The recognizable snarky tone of the Professors voice floated through the air. Snape.

'Sorry Professor, I was just very eager.' Harry replied quietly, relaxing his arms, letting them hang limply by his side, waiting for Snape to drop him to the floor in an uncomfortable pile.

'Rules are rules potter, I do not bend the rules, and I will most certainly not be bending them for you.' He added sarcastically as he let go of Harry's robes. 'Oh and Potter, classes will be cancelled tonight. I have an emergency meeting I have to attend. May I add that the rules still apply, whether I am on the premises or not.' The potion masters lips twinged, as if he were about to smile, but stopped in a grimace.

'Yes sir.' Harry replied as he picked himself and dusted the dirt off his clean robes in annoyance. 'I remember.'

'Potter, don't speak back to me.' Snape scowled and turned on his heel, robes billowing behind him. His signature move. Harry sniggered under his breath and took hold of his broomstick once again.

'Stupid Snape.' He muttered as he broke into a sprint, the Quidditch Pitch nearing by the second. He felt free, so free. It was brilliant. As soon as his foot crossed the border of the pitch he mounted his broom and flew off into the clouded sky. He let out an exhilarating scream of joy as he circled the pitch, winding his way through the stands taking in thick gulps of fresh air, clearing his head. For the moment Harry forgot all about where he was and soared higher into the sky, greeting the evening like an old friend.


It was 5:52pm when Harry finally finished his homework piece on shape shifters, it had taken a lot longer than he had previously thought, and required a lot of concentration and frantically flicking through the towering pile of books Hermione had found and given to Harry before she left for the summer.

'Almost time for dinner…' He murmured to himself and stole another glance out of the window, it was beginning to get darker now, and his friends would be jetting off to their exotic destinations, or cuddled up on the sofa with a butterbeer telling their families about the exciting year at Hogwarts, whilst Grandparents took it all in with a proud smile, or in Neville's case, an exasperated look. Harry chuckled, although he was rather lonely he could still feel happiness for his friends. BEEP BEEP BEEEP! Ron's alarm clock came to life suddenly and began to jump up and down wildly on top of Harrys weathered chest of drawers, before taking a dangerous nose dive towards the floor as one of its feet misjudged a step. Ouch! It screamed as it landed and bounced as if it were made of rubber. Harry scooped it up in his hands delicately and laid it carefully on his bed covers, where it would eventually calm down and fall asleep for the night, until it would have to wake to alert Harry for breakfast.

Rummaging through his drawers he found the jumper that Ron's generous mother had made him for Christmas the previous year, and dressed himself in it. Night was drawing closer and so was the chill of the night air. Satisfied that he wouldn't freeze Harry slipped on the nearest pair of shoes to the door, which happened to be the pair that he usually wore to play Quidditch, they were in the best condition of all his shoes surprisingly. Harry was just about to pull open the door when it was flung open by the same elf that had delivered his lunch, but this time he was without his hat and he wore a look similiar to one Snape usually posed.

'Do this, do that. Do this, do that. Why doesn't master leave Eli alone!' the elf chatted to itself madly as he came in, completely ignoring the surprised Harry, and placed the tray of food on the drawers, and turned to leave but paused to turn around and smile at Harry. But it wasn't an ordinary smile...it was more of evil smirk, and that was when Harry took in the fact the elf's eyes. They had a milky, glazed appearance, suggesting that the elf was either drunk or...going mad.

'Er, excuse me, elf.' Harry spoke cautiously. He was very aware that for an elf to insult his own master was almost blasphemous, but he chose not to admit his thoughts out loud. 'Do you think you would be able to take my food downstairs to the Great Hall, I'd like to eat there tonight, please?' Please was a last minute addition, but by the death glare the elf was giving him, was probably a very good idea.


After much grumbling and cussing Harry and his dinner were finally escorted to the safety of the Great Hall by the grumpy kitchen elf (who seemed to be having major mood swings before Harry's eyes) who by chance walked very slowly, probably due to the fact his legs were no bigger than half the length of Harry's forearm. But this gave him time to take in everything that he normally missed when making a B-line for the dinner hall after a long day, normally Ron would be dragging him there at such speed he barely got the chance to breathe. The school was so beautiful at night, and although shadows hugged the walls and furniture, it felt safe. Safer than the Dursely's abode, that's for sure.

Once Harry's dinner had been placed on the long table the elf disappeared as fast as it had appeared, leaving Harry feeling a bit disorientated, and very much alone. There had definitely been something wrong with him, but Harry was too fatigued to really think about Eli any further, he was sure if something was wrong Snape would definitely pick up on it. He picked a tomato from his plate and nibbled at it as he wondered up and down the long isles between each house dining table. It felt very weird to be able to do this so freely, usually the hall would be filled with laughter, chatting and screams of delight as wonderful feasts appeared before the eye. But today, it was empty. Tomorrow it would be empty. The day after it would also be empty. Every day for 6 weeks it would be empty. It began to sink in then, Harry was alone, in a huge magical school, with only a mysterious, and very dangerous Potions master, for company and supposed protection.

Sighing loudly he pierced another tomato with his nail and popped it into his mouth, taking another to repeat the action with. Then a long piece of parchment caught his eye, it was floating closely to the back of the entrance door to the Great Hall, a blue feathered quill hovering in the air beside it. This must be the parchment Snape had been taking about when he had administered his rules.

Harry stroked the parchment which seemed to quiver with excitement under his warm touch, he could feel the magic that enveloped both the items, and it gave him a fuzzy feeling. Slowly he unravelled the ribbon which was holding it together, and pulled the parchment open. It read;

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Regarding meals for July 21st 1991

Food ordering system – replies will be sent directly to the kitchen staff

Please specify exactly what you wish to eat for breakfast below;

Please specify exactly what you wish to eat for lunch below;

Please specify what you wish to eat for dinner below;

Please specify what beverages you wish to be provided with and the times in which they are to be served;

Harry felt like a prince. Never in his life had he been asked what he would like to eat, he found himself grinning from ear to ear. However it was short lived, attached to the bottom of the long role of parchment was a small note. It looked like the howler Ron had received from his furious mother at the start of the term.

Potter, lessons will be proceeding tomorrow at 7pm. I have left you some Potions work that I want completed by tonight's lesson without fail, on my desk in my classroom. Do not touch anything, and you most certainly will not snoop. I will know. Don't test me.

He felt his stomach drop. More homework was definitely not what he needed, or wanted as a matter of fact, right now. Casting that thought aside Harry filled out the form for the following day, hesitating only on the beverages section. Would it be okay to ask for butterbeer? He had been craving it for months now, surely he could treat himself? He scribbled down Butterbeer – 6pm in the correct section and feeling like he should, folded the parchment and reattached the ribbon to it, pocketing Snape's note.

Harry returned to his seat and started on his dinner. It felt so wrong without his best friends either side of him, chattering away about their dismal or brilliant day, or something exciting they had seen or learnt. He even missed Hermione's glares of disapproval which she shot at Ron every so often from the other side of Harrys head whenever Ron said something he shouldn't of. He missed the familiarity, the company, the routine. Hell, he even sort of missed Malfoys frequent sneers from across the hall.

As he took another mouthful of his dinner, he was sure that he had seen a figure out of the corner of his eye, in dark clothing standing at the entrance to the dinner hall, watching him intensely. But when he turned to check, there was nothing there but an empty corridor leading to a grassy courtyard.

This summer, was going to last forever.


Thanks guys! I really appreciate the reviews, the messages and all of you adding me to your various alerts for favourite story and author etc.! Maybe this story isn't going to be as bad as I previously thought! Please keep the reviews coming, it helps me know what I'm doing wrong, and what you guys really like and want to see more of! Will be updating regularly unless you guys specify otherwise. Thanks again, ~ Bry