Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

          "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

           A very loud screaming could be heard for miles from its originator. No it wasn't the pudgy boy, or the black boy, or the blond girl. It was a boy in his bed, in his pajamas in a house in England, more specifically on number four Privet drive. And that boy is none other than Harry Potter.

           Harry was yelling at the top of his lungs. At that moment he felt as much pain as he did in the previous year when Lord Voldemort tortured him. He fell off his bed and rolled around on the floor for at least half a minute clutching his lightning bolt scar on his forehead. At that moment the only thing Harry wanted to do was to die; to die, and not suffer from this horrible torture anymore. The pain didn't seem to let up at all after thirty seconds. It kept going; in fact it only kept getting worse. Harry kept rolling around and yelling for around another thirty seconds until the pain was finally starting to die down a bit. Harry continued to lie on the floor sweating and panting, not thinking about anything at all. He just lay there and stared at the ceiling for a couple a minutes until something snapped him out of his trance.

           BANG, BANG, BANG. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING BOY!" It was his uncle version shouting and banging on his door really hard. "WE'RE TRYING TO GET SOME SLEEP, I'VE GOT A REALLY BUSY DAY TOMORROW. YOU'D BETTER SHUT UP OR I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO YELL ABOUT!"

           Harry didn't answer to this as he heard the sound of his uncle Vernon's footsteps getting softer. He was obviously going back to bed. He didn't ask what was wrong, why he was yelling, if he was hurt, or if he needed any help. The only reason that he came by was to yell at Harry and to threaten him. But Harry was used to this by now. He's been getting this kind of treatment for the past fourteen years of his life-even before he could remember. The reason he was treated like this is because he was very different from all other people in the world. He was a wizard. And the Dursleys, his aunt, uncle, and cousin hated him for it. They were what the wizards called muggles (no magic whatsoever). His aunt and uncle believed that everything should just be normal; in other words plain and boring. His cousin was just scared. He had always been the bully in his schools, so he definitely wasn't used to being scared. The reason he lived with the Dursleys and not with his own family is because Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard in a century, murdered his mother and father. Voldemort killed his father, and then moved to kill him, he failed however because his mother got in the way. After he killed Harry's parents, he moved to kill Harry with the same curse as he used on his parents, the avada kedavra, aka the killing curse. A curse he used to kill many before. However, because Harry's mother died to save his life, it left a special charm around him, which protected Harry form Voldemort's curse. The curse backfired, and broke Voldemort's power, and Harry instantly became famous. The only thing that the curse did to Harry was leave him with a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt; that was why Harry was so different, even in the wizarding world. After this, Harry was immediately taken and placed in the care of his aunt and uncle.

            Harry continued to lie on the floor for a while, after his uncle left. He turned his head to his left and realized that he knocked over his glasses while he was going through his little tantrum. He put them on and looked upwards at his clock and saw what time it was. It was one ten in the morning. He got up and sat on his bed with his hand still clutched to his scar. He knew what this meant of course. His scar would only start to hurt when Voldemort was near him, or was in a very murderous rage. He got up and went to his window. He opened it up and looked outside. He shielded his eyes a bit as the lights from the street lamps darted directly into his tired eyes. He took a breath of fresh air and went back to his bed still leaving the window open. He sat on his bed trying to piece his thoughts together. He tried to think of why his scar hurt. He was pretty sure that Voldemort wasn't near him, so it could've only been one other thing. He must have killed someone. Killed? Yes, he did kill someone. He remembered someone being killed in his dream. But the strange thing was, that that was the only thing he remembered. He tried hard to retell himself what happened while he was asleep, but failed. He didn't understand. Why couldn't he remember what happened in his dream. Then another thought crossed his mind. Why did the scar hurt so much? And why did it hurt even after he was awake? He remembered, the only time his scar hurt that much was when Voldemort touched him, or used the cruciatus curse on him. Not when he was attacking someone else? Then a thought struck his head. What if, Voldemort is getting more powerful? That would explain a lot. Maybe that was the reason why Harry couldn't remember what he saw in his dream. Because Voldemort had somehow found a way to block his mind, but would that mean that Voldemort knew that Harry was watching? "Weird," said Harry in a low voice. "Oh, well, I'll never figure this out, there's no point thinking about it."

            Harry knew he wasn't going to get any sleep for the rest of the night, "so, I might as well get some work done." The truth was that that was one of the only nights that Harry was able to fall asleep. After his last year, he hadn't been the same. He was always miserable, always sulking, always in a bad mood. But, he wasn't going to think about it. That was his plan for the entire summer. Not to think about anything. Not to get lost in thought, because he knew if he did, the first thing he'd start to think about would be his fourth year. And then he'd get even more miserable. Lucky for him, the Dursleys were able to help him with this (a first). As soon as his uncle Vernon was driving him back from the King's Cross train station, they got to talking. "Boy," his uncle started, "it has come to my attention that haven't been pulling your weight around the house." Harry didn't say anything. In fact he was barely even listening. All he could think about was what happened at the end of his fourth year. "So", his uncle continued, "When we get home [my home not your home] you are going to have some more responsibilities."

            "Sure," Harry said in a melancholy voice.

            "First off, you will be helping your aunt around the house more often," his uncle Vernon began.

            "Fine," said Harry, as if he didn't care.

            "Secondly, you will cook all the breakfasts from now on."

            "Great."

            "And thirdly, you will escort Dudley the gym everyday and see to it that he gets a good workout. Do you understand boy?"

            At this statement, Harry couldn't help but look up at his uncle. "What?" Harry said disbelievingly.

            "I would do it my self, but I'm very busy at the office," his uncle said immediately. His uncle owned a company that made drills. And at this time his company was doing quite well so he was usually not home. "And your aunt is very busy with other things," he ended matter of factly.

            "Yeah, she was definitely busy with other things. Like spying on their neighbors," thought Harry. And he was as a matter of fact, right. His aunt was the nosiest person in the world. Sometimes Harry thought that the reason she had such a long neck was so that she could bring it over fences, and out of sides of windows-natural selection at work here. Of course Harry dared not say any of this in front of any of the Dursleys.

            "Otherwise, we'd have done it ourselves," uncle Vernon added in.

            This was the best thing that happened to Harry in all his summers. Now he had perfect distraction at all time. He'd wake up and make the breakfast [which wasn't too hard since Dudley was on a diet], he'd work out during the day, and clean the house when he came home. And any spare time that he had, he'd just do his homework.

            And throughout his summer he kept to that plan. He never stopped keeping himself busy. Even after his entire body became sore from the workouts, he still continued, that way he thought he'd at least be able to concentrate on his pain to keep his mind off his previous year. Sure enough when he got home with Dudley, his aunt Petunia forced him to clean the house while she told her "poor little Dudley" to get some rest. Harry wasn't upset by this, he was already as upset as one could get. He knew that what he was doing was good because, at least this way he could stay sane, even if he was abusing his body. The one thing that he hadn't counted on was he not being able to fall asleep at night. He was sure that after a hard days work (a very hard days in his case), he'd be able to fall asleep. He was, of course wrong. During the first couple of weeks he kept his nights busy by doing homework. After he was finished with that, he just read other books. By now he memorized every single monster in "the monster book of monsters", every single spell and potion from all his other books, and, he even went as far a memorizing his divinations books. Divinations had been one of his least favorite classes, because the teacher, professor Trelawny, kept predicting his death every single lesson. By the end of the third year, he had come to the conclusion that she was a fake-except on a few occasions; one of them, was when she predicted that Voldemort would rise to power once again, which now had seemed to be coming true. Now that Harry was all out of schoolbooks to read, he decided to read muggle books. He read some of Dudley's old schoolbooks, which Dudley wasn't using. So far he read: "Chemistry for Beginners," one of Dudley's least favorite school books, "Human Anatomy," he noticed that the chapter on the reproductive system was opened many times due to the wide gap in the stitch in that chapter, and "American History". Obviously Smeltings thought that American History was important being that America was an ally of England. He thought that all those books were very interesting, and wondered why Hogwarts never taught them these subjects. Then he remembered how long it took him to finish all his Hogwarts homework during the school year and thought better of it. All the same, he still thought it a shame, especially when he remembered how oblivious his best friend Ron was to the muggle world. Now Harry was in the middle of reading "Origin of Species," by Charles Darwin, an assigned reading for Dudley's English class. He understood most of what he read and thought that it was an interesting theory. It made him start to think that maybe wizard and witches were the next step in human evolution. It was possible, Harry thought. Although wizard and witched were not a completely different species, they were obviously different from muggles, and some wizards and witches like his best friend Hermione came from muggle families. They must have evolved. One thing he was careful about was to never let his theory slip in front of his uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia, or else they'd do something to de-evolve him.

            So Harry got out a flashlight and his book and continued to read from where he left off. As he started reading he heard something. It sounded like tapping. At first he dismissed it, thinking that it was his alarm clock ticking. As he continued to read he felt something on his elbow. It felt like a small needle pricking. He immediately looked down and noticed an owl lightly pecking at his elbow. The owl had gray and brown feathers, and a small pointy beak. "Finally," Harry thought. "This must be my letter from Hogwarts. It took them long enough." Harry usually got his letter from Hogwarts telling him when to return, and what books he'd need around the time of his birthday. Now it had been a while past that. For a short time Harry began to be worried that he was expelled. That maybe that article that Rita Skeeter wrote about him made the school governors, and the parents of the other Hogwarts students scared. He dismissed that thought in a hurry though, knowing that the headmaster of the school, Albus Dumbledore would never allow such a thing, and even if he did, Harry would surely get a letter telling him that he was expelled.

            He opened the letter, and to his surprise, it wasn't a letter from Hogwarts. Instead it was a letter from one of his best friends from school, Hermione. It read:

Dear Harry,

            How are things with you? I know that after what happened in school the very last thing that you would want would be to spend the entire summer with your relatives. But I'm sure that Dumbledore has his reasons for sending you back to your aunt and uncle. Anyway the reason I owled you is to invite you over to spend the rest of the summer at my house. I know that your original plan was to spend the summer at Ron's, so I talked to him about it and he thought that it was a great idea (we were sort of hanging out together during the first few weeks of summer). We'll spend our last weeks together and we'll meet Ron at diagon alley to collect our stuff, two days before we have to leave for school.

            I mailed your aunt and uncle the muggle way and they should get it really soon, maybe they already got it. I'm sure that they will let you come.

            Now I know that you do not want to stay at home for the rest of the summer, so don't bother owling me back.

            'Even in her letters she sounds bossy,' thought Harry.

            If they let you come I'll come to pick you up this Friday, and if they don't let you come, I'll still come to pick you up this Friday. I just sent them a letter to be courteous. Oh no, I'm beginning to act like Ron, I guess it was because we spent so much time together during the first few weeks of summer. Oh well, see you then.

                                                                                                                         Love, Hermione

            PS: I have been made a prefect, I got my letter two days after I sent you your birthday present. What about you?

            'What about me?' Thought Harry. 'I didn't even get a letter inviting me back. Could they really have expelled me? I mean, if Hermione already got her letter so long ago, then that must mean that I should've gotten it too. They send all the letters at the exact same time.' Harry sat for minute, getting even more depressed with every passing second. 'No, they couldn't have. Dumbledore wouldn't let them. They're probably taking extra precautions because of what happened last yea..'

            "Oh, no. I have to stop," Harry said to himself as he put his hands on his head. "No I can't think about this now. NOOOOOOO!" Harry said raising his voice a little while shaking his head around as if he had a huge migraine. "It's not my fault, IT'S NOT MY FAULT." Harry started yelling. "I have to do something to get my mind off this," Harry said in a soft voice once again. "If I continue like this.. I'll.... go... crazy."

            Harry slowly stumbled over to his door stopping in front of it to listen for any signs of the Dursleys. He put his ear up against the door and began to listen intently. After he heard nothing, he came to the conclusion that the Dursleys had still been asleep. He slowly opened his door, peered out to check if anyone was there [just in case]. After he saw that no one was there he made his way to enter the bathroom. He flicked the light switch on and began to look in the mirror. It had been a long time since he saw his reflection, but he was sure that what he saw had not been him. His body was definitely in better shape than before. He could see his biceps and chest muscles bulging through his pajamas. The bangs on his hair were straight because he was sweating that night. And his face seemed to be getting a little more rugged. But Harry didn't pay attention to any of those things. The big difference that he noticed was his eyes. Even though they were behind his glasses, he could tell that they were not the same as they had been before. The irises were exactly the same as they always were. They shone in a brilliant emerald green color. It was what was around the irises that had changed. Outside the irises Harry saw dozens of disgusting red cracks. This was obviously due to the sleep deprivation. They looked a lot like real cracks in his eyes, like his eyes were going to burst into tiny little pieces any second now. Around his eyes he saw two horrible looking black bags. But the biggest difference that he noticed was inside his pupils. Inside there used to be hope, spirit, and bravery. Now all he saw was death, a graveyard, an empty graveyard. It was as if he'd lost all will to live. And at that moment, he knew that he was not the same person that he used to be. He was a living dead man, or maybe a shell of a man would describe him better; but he was definitely not human anymore, he knew that much. By now he stopped thinking of his fourth year. He took his glasses off, turned the faucet on and washed his face a little. After he dried it and put his glasses back on, he looked in the mirror once more.

            "I wonder what Ron and Hermione will think of me when they see me when they see me like this?" He thought out loud with a depressed voice. "Will they still remain friends with me? Maybe I should write Hermione telling her to forget about me coming over. Nah. She'd probably never accept that," Harry sighed. "I hope they're willing to accept me this way."

            He turned off the light and quietly walked back to his room. He slowly slipped the door closed and walked over to his bed. He stood there for a second, he then moved over to the loose floorboard. He removed it and took out the presents that he received for his previous birthday. Ron sent him an old golden snitch, which at the time was useless being that he couldn't practice flying at the time. Hagrid sent him a book about how to breed dragons; Harry never even opened it yet. The weasely twins sent him a few of their of their new inventions. Obviously, they had reopened Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes without their mother noticing. And Hermione sent him a book full of advanced magical spells. He already memorized it, and decided that he'd try them out when he got to school.

            He looked at them for a few minutes and then put them away. He took his flashlight and continued to read "the origin of species". As he read through the chapters, his gaze kept landing on the letter that he received from Hermione. It was true that he wanted to see her; he wanted to see any of his old friends. But he was scared of what they'd think of him.

            He put down the book, took out some ink, a quill, and parchment and started to write on it.

Dear Hermione,

            I would really like to come by and visit, and I know you told not to write back in your last letter, but I felt that I had to warn you.

            He stopped for a second. How was he supposed to explain how he felt to her, when he never even told her what happened to him during his third task of the triwizard tournament. "Oh well," Harry said to himself. He took the letter and trashed it.

            He got back to reading his book; when before he even noticed it, it was morning.