The scar on the boy's forehead was the only thing reminiscent of when his parents had been killed at Godric's Hollow. His mother had died to save him. It was his fault she was dead. It was no ordinary accident that killed his parents. It wasn't even an accident. Lord Voldemort had meant to kill his parents, and himself, but he was protected by a power so strong that even the Killing Curse (Avada Kedavra) didn't work on him. A mother's love is possibly the only thing that let him survive. The boy's name was Harry Potter.
He was in all the good Wizarding Books. But it didn't matter to him now. In his last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry he had successfully resurrected his worst enemy (except Draco Malfoy) and now the whole of the Wizarding World was in peril. He'd managed to do all sorts of things at Hogwarts, apart from the lessons. He'd saved the Philosopher's Stone from bringing Voldemort back, he'd killed a Basilisk and a ghost from the past, he'd successfully helped a convicted murderer escape from the clutches of the Dementors, and now this. Not only had he helped Voldemort rise again but also he'd managed to kill a young boy who was always to be remembered as the boy who had defeated him at Quidditch. Yes, Harry Potter held himself responsible for Cedric Diggory's death.
Harry sighed as he sat on the bed in the Dursley's home. When were the Weasley's going to come for him? It was his birthday today. He had sent Hedwig out for a bit of a fly and was now awaiting her arrival. She didn't usually stay away so long.
A tap at the window signalled that she was back along with Pigwidgeon and they had packages tied to their legs. Harry ran to the window and opened it to let them in. Hedwig flew to his bed and practically collapsed while Pigwidgeon waited hovering by the window. No wonder Hedwig was tired: She had three large packages tied to her leg. As he untied them and the one on Pigwidgeon's leg he felt a huge sigh of relief. They were still thinking about him.
Pigwidgeon flew off and Hedwig moved into her cage. Harry sat looking at the presents. He opened them hurriedly and was amazed by what he saw. Ron had given him a minute silver dragon with glowing red eyes. Like most models in the wizarding world it moved and blew little tiny spurts of flames. Also in the bag were two canary creams and a wand that turned into a rubber chicken. He knew whom those were from. Harry smiled and looked at the three remaining presents. Hermione's had to be next. He carefully ripped the paper and looked in shock at the present.
"Wow. Hermione!" For there in front of him was the full Chudley Cannons kit and a signed Viktor Krum photograph. The next present was from Hagrid and it was a simple package tied with brown string. He hoped it wasn't another biting book. Or a Stoat Sandwich come to think of it. Therefore he was pleasantly surprised when he saw that it was a picture of Hagrid and Harry's parents. And all three were pulling faces at him.
"God, Hagrid. You're an ugly git aren't you? Are you related to Uncle Vernon by any chance?"
The last package was from Sirius. It was a tiny figure of himself leaning against a building with a minute picture in one of the windows. It too was moving. And it spoke.
"Accio Firebolt." The tiny picture was of his Firebolt and it appeared in the figurine's hand. The little Harry flew around and around the room and finally over to the dragon allowing Harry to reminisce about the time he'd defeated the Hungarian Horntail for the Triwizard Tournament. This image brought back the memories of Hogwarts and he felt tears coming to his eyes.
Harry looked out of his window at the moon and sighed. Why hadn't the Weasley's come to get him?