Chapter Two

A Birthday Visit

Harry threw down his quill with a satisfied (though quiet) sigh, having completed a nastily boring History of Magic essay:

"Describe, with examples, the periodic fascination of

Magic the non-magical community has

Displayed since 1600."

It was now late, 11.55pm, though Harry thought, it wasn't the latest he'd had to stay up until in order to complete his Hogwarts assignments.  The Dursleys would probably have a nervous breakdown if they saw him scratching away with his quill and his parchment during the day.

Harry now sat down on his bed and took his room in with a glance; he was surprised at how unchanged his surroundings were.  This room, this house and the family that lived within it had not changed at all.  Harry on the other hand was so different now to what he'd been when he'd left here a year ago, he felt like a stranger, like a different person.

Recent events had totally changed his perspective, he now knew how powerful Voldemort truly was with all his magical powers restored; and Harry had no trouble admitting to himself that that scared him.  He had faced Voldemort before, or so he had thought at the time.  Now he realised that he had face only a diminished form of Voldemort, now he had seen him, as he was fourteen years ago, powerful and strong.  He had grieved for Cedric Diggory, the fellow Triwizard champion who had been killed mercilessly at Voldemort's order; whose death had not only saddened Harry; but had shown him how fragile life was, and had demonstrated the extent of Lord Voldemort's cruelty.  Though he was scared and the memories of that night were still strong and painful, Harry had also found new determination.  He would not hide like a child, would not let Voldemort recover his old grip over the magical world.  He had resolved to help in any way he could to ensure that the Dark Lord never got the power he had once had.

Yawning Harry glanced over at the alarm clock, it was midnight, and it was also his birthday.

Birthdays did not excite Harry as they might others; the Dursleys had failed to acknowledge it for the past four years now.  Still his best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were usually more generous and considerate, so he did have something to look forward to.

A sudden breeze ruffled the curtains of his open window; Harry sprang to his feet and grabbed his wand - instantly alert.  Moving slowly closer, his wand held out in front of him he peered through…outside hovered a long family-sized broomstick.  It was built for four though only two were upon it at the moment. 

Harry relaxed as the face if the first figure came into view.