A/N If there are any spelling, grammar or canon errors, please let me know. Have a nice day.

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When Harry woke up the next morning, he was still in his cupboard under the stairs, he was still in his ten year old body, he was still in his worn out clothes and broken glasses. Worst of all though, he was still without all of the people he liked, and wanted to be around. He seemed to be stuck back at number 4 Privet Drive, and no matter how many times he pinched himself, or splashed himself with cold water, or went to sleep and woke up again he didn't want to wake from the dream, which seemed to be turning into a nightmare. He had nearly forgotten just how terrible the Dursleys had been. Dudley seemed to think of him as his personal punching bag, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon went between completely ignoring him and using him as some wizards used house elves.

This went on well into the summer.

One morning Harry went into the kitchen, and was bombarded by a terrible smell. He went over to the source, which was a large wash tub in the sink, full of clothing bits in murky water.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Your new school uniform. I'm dying some of Dudley's old things grey for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished. " Aunt Petunia said, looking displeased with him for some unknown reason.

"Oh," he said. He didn't want to break it to her that he wasn't going to need the soggy rags which were supposed to be a uniform to Stonewall High, which was the local school the Dursleys assumed Harry was going to be attending the next year.

He went and sat at the table, wondering when his letter was going to come. It had to be any day now.

Uncle Vernon and Dudley came in and sat at the table, making a face due to the horrible smell coming from the sink.

There was the sound of the mail slot opening, letters falling through, and hitting the door mat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon, as he looked through the paper he had just opened.

"Make Harry get it." Dudley whined.

"Get the mail, Harry." Uncle Vernon said, not looking up from the paper.

Harry complied. He got up, and went to collect the mail.

There was a postcard from Marge, a bill for something, and low and behold a letter for Harry.

He weighed his options this time around. It would be a bit redundant to go through the whole tidal wave of letters, hundreds of owls in muggle suburbs, running off to some God forsaken island, thing that he had gone through last time, so he simply opened the letter then and there.

"Hurry up, boy! What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" Uncle Vernon shouted from the kitchen.

"Just a sec!" Harry shouted back, pulling the letter out and reading it:

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Excellent, he took his letter and walked into the kitchen. He put the other things in front of Uncle Vernon, and sat down at the table, trying to remain as calm as possible.

Uncle Vernon opened the envelope, read the contents and tossed it aside, before reading the post card.

"Marge's ill," he said, "Ate a funny whelk…"

"Dad!" Dudley said suddenly, "Dad, Harry's got something!"

Uncle Vernon went to snatch the letter from him, but Harry moved it away too quickly.

"I have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Harry said, trying really hard not to grin. Uncle Vernon had turned a horrible shade of purple, while Aunt Petunia had turned nearly white.

"What a load of rubbish." Uncle Vernon said.

"So I'm not a wizard?" Harry directed this question to Aunt Petunia, there had to be some hidden compassion for her sister in there somewhere. Some slight inkling to tell the truth.

"No. You aren't. There's no such thing as magic." She said, but the flicker of doubt crossed her face for just one second.

"Then why would they send me a letter?" Harry asked, trying to sound innocent. "What is it you're not telling me?" Harry was trying not to enjoy this too much, but that was very hard given the circumstances.

"I forbid you to tell him!" Uncle Vernon shouted at Aunt Petunia, even though she didn't look as though she was about to say anything.

"Tell me what? That I'm a wizard?"

"No. That's a load of rubbish!" Uncle Vernon spat.

"Then why do strange things always happen to me? Things that don't happen to other people? Like that time my hair grew back, as if by magic."

"Because you are a little freak like your parents were, that's why!" That was Aunt Petunia's moment to speak.

"They were magic too, weren't they?" Harry said, more than asked.

"THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. He go up, and grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt, tearing the letter from his hands.

"Hey! That's mine!" Harry said, grabbing for the letter, but he was a lot smaller than Vernon Dursley so it was no use. The man, who was now a terrible shade of purple, marched Harry over to the cupboard under the stairs.

"Go- Cupboard- Stay- No meals!" was all the man seemed to be able to say.

Harry went into the cupboard, not wanting more of a fight than he had already gotten himself into. Uncle Vernon slammed the door, and from the sounds of his footsteps went back into the kitchen.

He sat down on his bed and sighed, that could have gone better.

Why was this happening to him? Why was he living all of this over again? Just when everything seemed to have begun to work in his favor, and he had his life nearly together, he gets thrown right back into one of the worst times of his life. He missed his friends, and his flat, and having magic, and being able to reach things on the top shelf, and looking like an adult, and Ginny… most of all Ginny. What if it all had been a dream? What if this was really his life, and the last ten years had just been a crazy dream?

Then why the Hogwarts letter? This has to be the dream. Maybe both the life he was in, and his adult life were a dream, and he's actually really old, and these are just flash backs… Why did everything need to be so complicated?

He wanted Ginny. She would know… She always knew…