When Harry first opened his eyes the next morning, heard the wind howling angrily outside of his window and the rain pattering loudly on the Dursley's sheet roof. A drop of water fell on his nose, and he remembered, too, that the Dursley's had yet to fix the slight leak over his bedroom.

He was thinking about this, and wondering what had happened the night before – when he suddenly realized there were muffled sort of yells coming through the wall into his ear. The sounds were making the slight throb in his head, no doubt from lack of sleep and the bad night he'd had, even worse…they were loud, angry yells, and Harry had to wonder how he didn't notice them first of all, and how he had slept through him.

He soon separated one of the voices, and he could tell that it was that of his Dudley, doing what he did best – putting on a show to get his way; "I WANT TO GO! I HAVE TO GO! I'M GOING! I'M GOING!"

The next voice to come through the wall was that of Aunt Petunia's, and her voice sounded strained, like she was on the verge of tears; "But Popkins! You simply can't go, not in this awful weather…"

"I WILL! I AM! I'M NOT FORFEITING A MATCH!"

To tell the truth, Harry was more surprised that Dudley had used the word 'forfeiting' properly then he was about the fight going on. He knew well enough that today was supposed to have been the day for Dudley's championship boxing match, after all, Dudley had been going around trouncing kids around the neighborhood all week for a sort of practice. However, with the weather as it was at the moment, it was obvious that the other Dursley's were having second thoughts on the matter…being that the competition was several miles away.

"Dudley, be reasonable!" Uncle Vernon said, sound surprisingly cross…well, surprising since he was talking to Dudley. Harry, on the other hand, was quite used to the tone, having heard it daily himself. He would have expected it to be enough to silence Dudley, but the boy was used to having his way all his life, and so he continued:

"I WILL NOT BE REASONABLE! I AM GOING!"

Then, came Uncle Vernon's voice once more, bellowing and louder then it was been before, so it seemed to shake the little house. "YOU. ARE. NOT. GOING!"

Harry blinked in surprise, he had never heard Uncle Vernon take that tone with Dudley. In fact, the only thing the only person that Harry recalled Uncle Vernon using that tone with, was himself and it wasn't as if it was a tone he used regularly. It was his 'this-is-the-last-bloody-straw' sort of voice, and quite frankly, Harry would have pictured at him yelling at Aunt Petunia like this before he picture him yelling at Dudley, but here it was – happening.

Judging from the sudden silence in the next room, it was not only Harry that was surprised…he could almost envision the stunned Aunt Petunia and curiosity got the better of him.

He slowly tiptoed out of his room, making sure not to let the floorboard squeak as he walked from his own room to Dudley. When he reached the room, he took a quick glance in, pressing his cheek against the cool wall to stare through the crack in the door into Dudley's crowded room.

 Dudley was sitting on the bed, with Aunt Petunia hovering over him, her skin was pink, and she looked (as Harry suspected she would) like she was about to burst onto tears. Uncle Vernon's back was to Harry, but Harry could picture that angry face anyway.

One thing Harry noticed was that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were both intently staring at Dudley. And Dudley had lowered his rather large head, and fat tears were sliding down his cheeks.

Harry blinked rapidly in surprise, not sure he'd seen the scene right. It didn't add up right to him, not at all. When Dudley wanted his way, he gave loud roaring fits, like Harry had just heard… but for him to hang his head and have tears running down his cheek, whilst he didn't make a sound wasn't normal, at least it wasn't normal for Dudley.

It seemed, well, it almost seemed like Dudley was…really crying.

All of a sudden, Uncle Vernon moved, and turned in the direction of the door – Harry closed the door quickly. He stood there for a moment, half expecting the door to bang open, and Uncle Vernon to be standing their angrily, ready to take out the rest of his rage onto Harry…but it didn't happen.

The silence in the room continued, and Harry decided he better not risk getting caught. After all, he had no idea what had happened the night before, and for all he knew, the Dursley's might not be, so friendly, with him anymore, and being caught outside the room eavesdropping was definitely something that would cause their anger to explode.

With one more casual glance to the door, Harry headed downstairs to the kitchen.

It would be, he decided, a nice change to have breakfast himself without being bothered by any of the Dursleys …and not have to put up with the sight of Dudley stuffing his face. Yes, this actually seemed like it might be the best breakfast of the summer.

Harry had already had his toast toasted when Uncle Vernon suddenly appeared in the room, his head was down, and he looked to be thinking deeply. Something, that, quite frankly astonished Harry again. All of a sudden though, Uncle Vernon looked up, and he looked surprised to see Harry…as if he couldn't believe he had the indignancy to go and eat breakfast by himself, however, he seemed to catch himself, and a forced look of calm came across his face.

"Boy," He said, nodding his head – he hesitated, and looked as if he was forcing himself to say something. Harry began buttering the piece of toast, wondering how long he might have to wait for Uncle Vernon to say something. Uncle Vernon cleared his throat, and said a quick; "Happybirthdayharry."

Harry began to choke as he laughed and snorted at once, and half succeeded in suffocating himself. After he was able to breathe again, he managed to give a hoarse, "Uh, thanks."

Uncle Vernon shifted on his spot, "Well, we, that is…I mean…we're going…Dudley's…competition today."

Oh, so Dudley had gotten his way again. No surprise there, not really anyway. Harry wondered if the tears had been real, or just a brilliant scheme to put everybody off guard with sensitive crying…and then he wondered if he was giving Dudley too much credit. "Ah."

"And, well, we were wondering…i….f…"

"If?"

"If…if you…if you wantedtocometothecompetitionandwatchdudleyoday."

It was a bad thing that Harry had just taken a rather large bite out of his toast, because he indeed began to choke in surprise, and sprayed little bits of toast over the Dursley's table as he struggled to breathe again; "What?!"

Uncle Vernon's cheeks turned a muddy sort of red, and Harry knew it took his last bit of pride to say again, slower and through clenched teeth; "Do you want to come to Dudley's match?"

Harry started to say no, after all, it was his birthday, and the last thing he wanted to do was to watch Dudley knock out some poor unsuspecting child while adults cheered. However, he realized that his appearance there might…unnerve Dudley slightly, and the temptation to be responsible for and to witness Dudley's loss was indeed a great birthday gift.

He started to say 'Yes.', picturing how Uncle Vernon's face would change, but then – he heard a voice – clear as a bell, and it said a firm, 'Say no.'

Harry glanced up at Uncle Vernon, about to say something, but he saw Uncle Vernon glaring at him impatiently, obviously awaiting his answer and realization dimmed on him that that was not his Uncle's voice. He stared blankly, and said a surprised, "What?"

"Do you want-"

"Uh, wait um…" Harry stared blankly, and he opened his mouth to say yes – but he heard the voice again, clear in his head as if someone had whispered into his ear, 'Say no.'.

Harry glanced around, as if expecting to see someone hovering over him and speaking into his ear…however, nobody was there. Harry felt a slight chill, and he had a vague realization that there was magic at work at hand, and he faltered.

He didn't know whether it was good or not, perhaps if he said no – something bad would happen, however, maybe it was trying to keep him from something. He bit his lip lightly, and stared blankly at Uncle Vernon.

"Well?"

"Uh…um…no. No thanks."

Harry didn't quite know why he trusted this voice, perhaps it was because it down sound too harmless. It was gentle, and rather coaxing, and anyway, he'd rather sit at home and eat the fabulous birthday cakes he had found on his bed when he'd gotten home last night then watch Dudley fight.

Uncle Vernon looked surprised and slightly happy, but he composed and said, "Right then, if that's what you want. We'll be getting ready….we'll have to leave at noon to get their on time, and we'll be back around 10…so…you… might as well have this. It's from your Aunt and I."

He shoved an envelope on the table, turned on his heel, and half ran out of the kitchen. Harry was too caught up in his thoughts to notice it, and he sat down at the table – suddenly no longer hungry, he struggled to make sense of what just happen.

 A voice, had just given him advice, and he wasn't sure if it was positive or not, but he was a little unnerved by it. He wondered, for a moment, if he should go over and tell Ms. Figg about it, but the memory of his humiliation from the night before made him forget about that fairly quickly, and instead, he glanced at the envelope the Dursley's had given him.

He picked it up and opened it, inside was a birthday card…Harry stared blankly. It had a boy on the front wearing a birthday-hat, it looked like it was made for a five year old. Harry ignored the message on front, and opened the card – and some bills fell to the ground.

Harry stooped over and picked them up, they were money notes, and quite a lot too – in fact, he shuffled through them. They were about a 100 pounds worth!

He stared blankly, sure this was a dream, first of all – he had heard a mystery voice, Dudley had really cried, and now the Dursleys were…willingly giving him money? It didn't add up right, not at all. He pinched a bit of flab on his arm, and bit his lip, and felt pain to his surprise.

Harry stuffed the notes into his pocket, suddenly not hungry and began to clear the table.

~~*~~

Harry had a most agreeable birthday for the whole afternoon, the Dursley's actually left a little before noon and it gave Harry quite a little laugh to see them running for the car in the middle of the pouring rain. After that, he had spent the day reading his textbooks, eating magical candy and foods, and basically…being himself.

He was rather annoyed, truthfully, when the clock hit ten and he began to regret the return of the Dursley's…and generally, his mood being spoiled by the thought of them returning to their home.

However the clock past ten, and eleven, and soon it was eleven thirty – and the Dursley's still hadn't returned. Harry didn't quite know what to make of it, he wasn't sure if they had deserted him, or something had happened. Both were equally worrying.

Dumbledore had told him last year, that the only thing keeping Lord Voldermort from finishing Harry off while he wasn't at Hogworts for the summer, was a bit of old magic that only worked if he was living with Aunt Petunia. Unfortunately, if they moved into a new home or something bad happened, technically it meant that Harry no longer lived with them, and that would cancel the magic.

Soon Harry began to pace in the living room, and he kept glancing out the window. He half suspected to see either Lord Voldermort or the Dursley's coming up the walk, and he was listening hard for the sound of a car or magic, but instead, the only thing that he could hear were the loud claps of thunder that came quickly, and the only thing he could see were the flashes of blue lightening that lit up the sky every now and then.

Harry stood there for a while, all sorts of thoughts in his head but soon he saw, illuminated by a sudden flash of lightening, a car pulling up towards the Dursley's driveway…and he instantly relaxed.

Harry turned and headed back up the stairs, slightly disappointed for some reason and feeling a bit silly. It was the exact same thing that had happened last night at Ms. Figg's, he'd been acting unreasonable and a bit silly, jumping to conclusions and such and as he headed upstairs, he felt rather idiotic.

As he got into his room he heard the sound of a car door slamming loudly, a sign that Dudley had lost the match and was furious. And that meant that Harry better get out of sight soon before Dudley came up in a state, or else he just might become his punching bag once more.

Harry ducked into his room, and sat down on his bed, awaiting the angry stomping…but the angry stomping never came. Instead, what he heard surprised him greatly, it was a voice calling out frantically, "Harry?! HARRY?! HARRY, ARE YOU HERE?!"

Now you might expect that Harry would jump up, and half run to whoever was greeting him, but being that the voice was unknown and the worry he felt…he wasn't sure if he should.

Although, according to what he'd heard the night before, the Death Eaters were all still in Azkaban, he wasn't sure what to make of anything after the voice in his head this morning. Could this be the person who had told him to say no? So they could come and destroy him with nobody being there to be in the way? It seemed so, especially since someone was now running through the Dursley's house calling for him when he did not recognize his or her voice.

Harry reached into his back pocket, and slowly pulled out his wand. He had this sense of foreboding, as if something bad were about to happen – and so he gripped his wand very tightly and waited for the door to his room to be blown aside, and a Deatheater or something worse to be standing there.

He stood there waiting, as the sound of doors opening and closing came nearer, until it was Dudley's room next door and then, the person was outside of his own door.

"Allohomara!" The voice said clearly, Harry recognized the spell. It was one used to unlock doors, and he heard the lock on his door spring open at the words.

Then the door pulled open suddenly, and the light from the hallway lit up the dark room and flashed off of Harry's glasses, temporarily blinding him. All the same, he thrust his wand in the direction of the person, and yelled "EXPELLIRAMUS!"

There was a flash of red light, and then Harry saw to his delight a wand that was not his, fly into the air and fall onto his bed, well away from the owner.

Harry pointed his own wand at the figure in front of him…and struggled to focus. Standing before him was a young woman with a round face, short brown hair and brown eyes, and she looked completely and utterly panicked. "Harry, come on now!"

"Who are you?" Harry said steadily, not looking away from her, thinking she might make a sudden move and wanting to be ready for it.

"Harry! That's not impor-"

"Who. Are. You."

She hesitated, but then she lowered her voice, "I'm with the Order. I can't say more here, it's not safe, especially not now." She grabbed at his arm, and Harry flinched away at the sudden move. Her voice cracked with her desperation, "Harry! We've got to go, now! Everything's going wrong, I've got to get you out of here!"

Harry wavered for a moment, wondering if she were lying, and if so – how she knew about the Order. And in that moment of hesitation she pushed past him and grabbed her wand from the bed, spinning around and looking around the room. "Harry, grab your things quickly, we have to go!"

"Why? What's going on? What's wrong?" Harry demanded, holding out his wand still – but it shook slightly as his hand wavered.

She turned to him from where she'd grabbed his broomstick from off of the bed, where he'd left it after cleaning it. Her face was pale, and her brown eyes were wide, and she said, in a quivering voice – four words that sent a chill up Harry's back:

"The Dursley's are dead."

A/N: Oooh, sorry for the delay – I was working on my website a lot, and I had serious writers block, but I know what I want from here on, so the next chapters should come up quickly. Oh, and don't worry – I'm not Mary-Sueing the new character…oh, and please Review ^^