Chapter 1

Harry stood staring at the warming oven stovetop. As usual, during the summers he was reduced to nothing more than a house elf in the eyes of his uncle and aunt. His duties involved clean, cooking, maintaining the lawn, and keeping as quiet as he could, so his family could forget he existed. Vernon and Petunia wouldn't call him a house elf per say, "Boy" was the usual address. Yes, Vernon and Petunia Dursley hated everything (i)unusual(i). Muggles to the core and not an ounce of magic in them; and that's the way they liked it, thank you very much. But Harry was a wizard, and it was no wonder why they hated their nephew so much. Ten months out of the year Harry attended the finest school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts. But today, instead of casting confundus charms or brewing engorgement potions he was stuck frying bacon for his fat cousin Dudley, who at the moment was whining endlessly for his breakfast.

 "Hurry up with our breakfast boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon, sitting no more than five feet away.

Harry snapped himself out of his daze and placed the frying pan on top of the glowing red stovetop.

" Just a few more minutes, uncle" Harry murmured.

 Had he been himself, Harry was sure he could have thought of a nice biting remark about his fat cousin and the fact that any more bacon and he was sure he would be the youngest person in England to suffer a heart attack. But Harry had been brooding all month. Grieving more so. His last living relative that loved him, his godfather, was killed trying to protect him against the ranks of the Dark Lord's followers. He was all alone in the world now, and stuck back in number 4 Privet Drive, frying bacon… and his godfather's body was still concealed in the Mysteries Department in the Ministry of Magic headquarters.

Harry blamed himself for his death. Sirius was more than his godfather, but one of his best friends. Ron and Hermione knew him the best, and yes they were his best friends, but Sirius was a father he never had. He told him things about his parents; he had worried about him like a father would. But he was gone, and it was all Harry's fault.

'If only there was a way I could bring him back!' Harry thought. 'If only I didn't rush into things! If only…'

Harry stopped himself. He never played the 'if only' game unless he was happy the way it turned out the first time, otherwise the torture was endless. There were a million things he could have done, or not done. Worst of all was, if only I had followed Snape. His dreams were what lead him to the Ministry headquarters in the first place.

A high-pitched beeping brought Harry back to reality as the fire alarm began to sound. Harry looked down at the frying pan to see that the once thick bacon was now charred, black, shriveled and beginning to give off smoke.

" PAY ATTENTION BOY!" Screeched his aunt Petunia, pulling the handle from his hands and plunging the pan and bacon et al into the soapy water in the sink.

"Sorry Aunt Petunia!" stammered Harry, "It was an accident!" he said, grabbing a tea towel and beginning to wave at the base of the fire alarm hopping to silence it before his uncle's temper swelled to new heights. 

"I've had enough of your accidents! You've been a nuisance all summer!" she shrieked. "One more time and I'll have you back in the cupboard quicker than you can imagine! Upstairs! Into your room! I don't want to see you for the rest of the day!" 

Harry trudged up the stairs, knowing that there would be no meals for him today. His aunt who had always been particularly cruel to him in years past had upped her harsh and cold attitude towards him. Early on in the summer when Harry had first arrived back from Hogwarts, he had tried to offer a small olive branch of a peace offering towards her, knowing he would have to spend most of his summer with her. He tried to ask her about the Howler sent to her by his headmaster, Dumbledore himself. But of course, Petunia would not have wanted to speak about her 'freak sister' the witch. So since the first week of summer, he had determined his fate. He was going to be miserable.

'DAMN THIS SPELL!' Harry thought. 'Making Number 4 Privet Drive a home? Impossible! Any place that was home to the likes of the Dursleys was impossible. Damn blood magic, and damn his last living relatives who hated him from the moment they found him on their stoop.'

The smell of bacon filled the air, making Harry's stomach gurgle. Harry plopped on his bed, leaned over to one side, lifted a loose floorboard, and retrieved a bag of Peppermint Humbugs and began to eat them. Preparing for a perfectly boring day of staring at his ceiling, or if he really wanted to go brain-dead his History of Magic homework. Just as he had decided to follow his first instinct and stare at the walls, a low cry came from the corner. Harry turned to be met with a big pair of yellow eyes.

"Hedwig!" said Harry with a smile, " where have you been all evening? Didn't have time for your pal Harry?" he teased. Hedwig nipped his finger and then flew to the window still to expose a smaller grey owl that stood behind her.

"Hedwig, behave yourself." Scolded Harry playfully, as his owl ruffled her feathers where she was perched in annoyance of the intruder sitting on her cage. The grey owl lifted one of its legs to expose a letter tied to it. Harry quickly untied it, handed the bird an owl snack and it promptly took off out the window, thoroughly pissing Hedwig off as it purposely crashed into her before leaving. Harry snickered at the bird, then quickly opened the letter.

 Dear Mister Harry Potter,

You are humbly invited to a memorial service in honour of all those brave that fell to You-Know-Who, to take place in Hogsmeade town square on July 31st. It would an honour that you would attend for the memory of your mother and father, as well as many fellow brave and unfortunate souls who fell while fighting this evil.

Signed,

Angelo Clearwater

Hogsmeade Recreation and Activities Manager

Hogsmeade

Harry was stunned; this had come out of the blue. Of course he would go, it was just a matter of how he would get there. Just as he had thought this, another owl came speeding into the room, zoomed around Hedwig for a second and crashed right into the wall behind Harry before getting up, dropping a letter on Harry's bed only to resume speeding around the parameter of his room.

"Pigwidgeon," Harry said with a smirk, Hedwig flapping her wings in protest. Harry picked up the letter on the bed, and opened it. He recognized the quick scribbled writing to be his friend Ron's.

Harry,

I'm guessing you just got the invitation too? Mum says we can pick you up in time and you can come with us, after that you can stay with us the rest of the summer! How you been feeling? Your family been treating you alright? Can't wait till you come, Fred and George are driving me mad now that they're allowed in the Order's meetings, and they won't tell me a thing! Maybe you can convince them.

Ron

Harry smiled, finally his summer was looking up!