Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways, the summer holidays were a time he hated more than anything, rather than playing outside in the warm sunny village of little whinging, he much rather spent his days studying for school or in the local pet shop. The boy had no friends. At least that was what the people of little whinging thought, in truth he had quite a few friends, even a best friend but none of them lived anywhere near the cozy village. Harry had met his friends over the last three years in Hogwarts.

Hogwarts was a school for special children, children with magic. In Hogwarts he learned how to make objects fly, how to turn a teacup into a rat, how to make fire from thin air and so much more, of course, no one but the Dursleys knew of this. Harry's Aunt, Uncle and Cousin weren't all too thrilled with him learning magic. The only way he had managed again and again to convince them to let him go back again was by telling them how he had almost been killed each and every year in Hogwarts. In his first year, a teacher -in service of a dark wizard- had tried to kill him multiple times, by letting a troll into the castle was one of the more tame attempts. His second year hadn't been much better, a young girl got possessed and tried to kill him and many others using a gigantic serpent. And his third and most recent year? Why an escaped prisoner tried to kill him multiple times, though thankfully he was caught before the year ended and his soul was taken from him.

Alone the continued danger that Harry had to face could convince the dursley's to keep sending him to the school, to his home and his friends. It was a glorious prospect for him, one that couldn't come soon enough. At the very least, his extended stay at the Dursley residence provided him with time to read up on any school material he might've missed. He could practically feel Hermione's approval. She was one of his few out-of-house friends, a Gryffindor Girl with less than stellar looks who was always top of the class, that is unless that class was Transfiguration or DADA. These two subjects were the only ones in which he was better than Hermione, or anyone their year for that matter. She held the close second in Transfiguration and third place in DADA, behind himself and Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin girl almost as studious as Hermione who just so happened to be another out-of-house friend of his.

Harry's gaze traveled to the poisonous snakes currently debating how to escape the pet shop, Daphne would have loved them. She was a real junky when it came to dangerous things and Harry half suspected her to be a masochist with how often she got hurt on her little adventures and just came back for more.

Madam Pomfrey had stopped healing her not life threatening injuries somewhen last year and since then, he hadn't seen her without at least a little scratch each time they met.

From the snakes, he looked onto the elderly shopkeeper, Mr. Crouch. Crouch was a squib, a non-magical person born to two wixen. His Nephew worked in the ministry, he had told Harry.

"What are they saying this time?", the old man asked him.

"Just the usual, plotting their 'glorious escape'", Harry couldn't help his smile, once he had thought Parseltongue something to be ashamed of speaking but thanks to old Crouch he had begun to accept it as a part of himself and, under his ever watchful eye, started practicing it, "You know, the others at school were never this understanding when it came to the whole 'being a parselmouth' thing."

"I know I know", old Crouch mumbled as he went to give some food to the guinea pigs, "Kids can be cruel but it is also the lack of you guys. Most have never met one here, there are some tribes in India but they don't go out much. I admit, parsel sounds creepy at first and with the most recent of you in the kingdom being you-know-who? Not a great reputation to build on that… My nephew likes your kind I think"

"He does but- you said he fought against Vol- you-know-who?" Wouldn't someone that had been at war with a parselmouth grow to hate them?

"He was, he was… but y'know little Barty always loved the foreign tongues… wanted to learn every single one. That was the reason he went into the ministry I think, you meet a lot of people from all kinds of places", he chuckled as though he remembered a mediocre joke, "too bad he ain't a great speaker. Sure he can memorize dictionary after dictionary but as soon as he has to say any of it to an actual person he gets stage fright and forgets it all"

A ring came from the door, signaling that a customer had just entered, "Good afternoon, looking for anything specific?"

"Just browsing", the voice that answered was young, no older than 10 or 11. The person attached to said voice, came into Harry's field of view a few moments later, it was a boy with shaggy black hair and tired eyes, he was way too skinny, perhaps even more so than Harry had been before his stay at hogwarts.

§No! Get away! Not him!§ one of the snakes jumped against its glass, trying to get as far away as possible. Why did the snake react like that, Harry wondered, it had never done so with other customers, not whilst Harry was there at least. His presence soothed serpents, made them less likely to get aggressive so why did this one suddenly look so panicked.

It was then that Harry noticed it wasn't just the snake, a few of the smaller critters were jumpy, huddling into the corners of their respective habitats.

The boy looked scared and sad, his small limbs shaking. Determined, Harry asked "Crouch… is it safe to cast?"

"Uh- y- yes my boy", the geezer stumbled on his words, totally fixated on his precious animals, "T- this place has enough ambient magic. They shouldn't be able to tell"

With that confirmation, Harry pulled out his wand, Holly with a core of Phoenix feather. To his surprise, it didn't feel as warm as it normally did when he held it, in fact it was as if it was getting colder, "Arcanum Revelio"

Without a second of delay, the boy began glowing like a beacon, only to him of course, neither the boy nor old crouch could see it. Tiny strings of light crawled from the boy's magic like tentacles, grabbing onto any of the smaller animals in their reach and, to his shock, onto his wand as well.

"Finite Incantatem Maxima!" As soon as the second spell left Harry's mouth, the boy's magic relaxed, drawing back into him and all the animals stopped freaking out. Near immediately, the young boy collapsed but not before looking at Harry in amazement and whispering out "How?"

[three days later: Crouch's Pet Empire, Surrey]

"Is he okay?" he asked old Crouch.

"The boy is fine, nothing too bad, except the trauma, the Healers told me", Old Crouch responded grimly, "muggle parents, religious fanatics. It's in the prophet… here"

The newspaper was opened on its fifth page, a small picture of the boy from days before inside one of the st mungo's beds as he ate.

MUGGLE FANATICS STRIKE AGAIN!

My dear readers may know if they have followed my career for a while, that many muggleborn wixen die before they turn of school age. This has many reasons but one of the most common and most horrible has almost occurred again. Young Evan Kelmp, to turn eleven this year, had been starved and beaten by his muggle parents for his magical outbursts, the reason they were against them?

Christianity, a muggle religion in which wizardry is blamed upon a bargain with a higher, malevolent power. Many may know this belief system partly due to it kickstarting the great European witch hunts and later the great magical-non-magical war of 1522 which forced wizardkind into hiding.

Most every child born to these 'christians' dies before graduating from Hogwarts, slain by their non-magical kin.

It seems though, this boy -who the fanatics have adopted after his true parents(Anton Kelmp, a half-blooded auror and Ginevra Kelmp née Crossworth, a pureblooded witch in the first generation) died- has managed to avoid the same fate.

The boy, who's magic had been acting violently due to a recent beating, came across the-boy-who-lived by chance whilst entering a squib-run establishment. The 13 year old Ravenclaw managed to dispel the violent acting magic and moved to inform the authorities.

It seems we have to thank young Harry Potter for yet another magical life saved.

For more information on the abuse of muggleborn wixen, refer to page 7.

For further details of the previous exploits of Harry Potter, refer to page 3.

Harry wished desperately to believe that what stood here was not true, that none would kill their own over something as simple as magical ability but he knew better. He couldn't deny the brutality of people, for he lived with the dursleys. Harry had been lucky, born too famous for his disappearance to go unnoticed, with good enough connections to keep his relatives from going too far. Many others weren't as lucky.

"Any Idea where Evan will live?"I didn't take my eyes off the picture, I couldn't. Too captivating were the scars that peeked from beneath the gown as the boy in the picture shifted to reach for water, too sickly looking the boy, underfed more than Harry had previously noticed, ribs showing clearly through the thin skin. If this was 'nothing too bad'... he shivered.

"Not yet. Two families have offered to raise him so far though, the Pickering's and the Haywood's, both half-bloods with at least two magical children", old crouch mused, "I Think one of the Pickering boys is in Hogwarts, Adolf or Adam or somethin' like that"

"That's good to hear, I was-"

Harry was cut off by a big, brown owl flying into the shop, scaring many of the smaller critters. It had a letter at its leg, one with the Hogwarts seal. When he opened it -for who else was it supposed to be addressed to other than himself- he found a rather strange note besides the normal shopping list.

As per our agreement, you have been granted both the ability to take part in Hogsmeade trips, as well as leave your family's home. You still have to return each summer but may leave whenever you receive your letter.

-A.P. .D.

Harry, for the shortest of moments, wasn't sure what this note was about, till he remembered the deal that he had made with the Headmaster last year. If he refrained from chasing after Black and got at least 4 Outstandings, the headmaster agreed to give him more freedoms. It had completely slipped his mind but now, he couldn't help but jump in joy. He never had to stay at the Dursleys for a full summer, ever again!