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Chapter Two: The Intruder

Harry beamed down at the letter that sat in his lap. Finally he could escape! He'd spend the rest of the summer sung in the Burrow and not padlocked in his room. He picked up his handsome eagle feather quill pen and a spare piece of parchment, dipped the pen in his an inkpot and quickly scribbled a note.

Ron,

Yeah, I go the invitation just as Pig got here. Love to come! How do I get there? I haven't any floo and the Dursleys won't let me speak about my broomstick let alone use it.

Harry

Her rolled up the note and proceeded the difficult task of first catching Ron's tiny hyperactive owl, an secondly, holding him still enough to tie the letter to it's leg. Finally secure, Pig sped out through the window, but not before missing it entirely and crashing into the window frame repeatedly. The tiresome job finally done, Harry plopped soundly on his bed, panting from the tiresome work of catching the fluffy little snitch. It would have been easier with the use of his broomstick.

Harry smiled, leaning back on his bed, the midmorning sun streaming though the curtains and onto his face. He was finally going to the Weasley's where he would be able to do all the wizarding things his aunt and uncle forbade him to even speak of. He could play Quidditch in the backyard with Ron and the twins, and of course Ginny who had proved herself a very valuable player by helping win the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor. Harry squinted in the sunlight watching the sunbeam play with bits of dust in the air, his room growing warm with the ever-rising heat, and Harry growing ever drowsier. He imagined he was out in the field behind the Burrow, each Weasley taking a turn on his state-of-the-art Firebolt he had received from Sirius for Christmas in his third year. 'SIRIUS!' Harry thought, awoken from his daydream. He hated moments like that, moments when he allowed himself to believe that nothing was wrong, that he was still alive.

 Harry turned his thoughts to the invitation to Hogsmeade and wondered if Sirius' name would be mentioned at the memorial. Sirius had died a convicted criminal on the run, and there was no way to prove he was innocent while Wormtail was still scurrying about, begging and scrapping at Voldemort's feet.

The thought of Voldemort's name made a Harry's stomach leap as if he had just eaten an entire box of peppermint frogs (jump realistically in the stomach!).

'Damn this prophecy!' Harry thought.

Harry didn't want to kill; then again he didn't want to die either. The weight of both the muggle and wizarding world had been placed on his shoulders. Neither world stood a chance if Voldemort got to full strength, the muggles and muggle born would be slaughtered, while the wizarding world would be his slaves.

It was too big, too much for Harry to bear. He was no messiah, he was just Harry!

Who was he kidding? He'd never be 'Just Harry'… he'd be the boy-who-lived until he died. He let out a short bitter chuckle. Ironic…

Just then a scream cam from downstairs. It was Aunt Petunia, or possibly Dudley, one could never be too sure. Harry bolted upright.

"Deatheaters!" Harry murmured, diving for his wand in his trunk, determined not to go down without a fight. Harry heard a thud if a body dropping downstairs and struggled with the thought of magically unlocking the door and rush off, or waiting for one of them to come to him. It could mean the difference of being expelled from Hogwarts or the death of the Durselys. Footsteps pounded up the steps towards Harry's room. Harry couldn't let anyone else die because of him, even if it was the Dursleys. He strode to the door, lifted up his wand and said…

"Alohomora" a voice boomed from the other side of the door, locks scrapping unlocked by themselves.

Harry stood in shock, raised his wand and planned the curse he would hit the inruder with as the door swung open. Harry's jaw dropped.

"Hello Potter" they sneered, "had a nice summer?"

**********

OH! Cliffhanger! I am so evil! Spank me Severus! I've been a bad bad girl… anyone else who wants a spanking from random HP hotties, review! My current plan for world domination started with the kidnapping of all hotties, I currently have them in a shoebox under my bed, but James Marsters and Alan Rickman are currently dueling for my heart… but I'm willing to rent them out for a price of a review a hottie… pwease?