Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing in this story! It all is the property of J.K. Rowling! It would be quite nice to own that property, but all of this comes from the knowledge in her books!

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP

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Chapter 1 "Back to Privet Drive"

It was very quiet on the way home from King's Cross. Uncle Vernon had both hands on the wheel gripping tightly looking straight ahead in terror from what Moody had warned Harry at the train station. Although the look on his Uncle's face would've normally made Harry grin, he didn't feel smiling at all, his look was plain and expressionless. He kept thinking of Sirius and how he would insist on bringing Harry back to Grimmauld Place with him, instead of going to his horrible aunt and uncles. But he stopped immediately after from feeling his eyes becoming watery. He sat there gazing out of the car window although he wasn't really watching anything, he was just trying to hide his tears from his cousin. Dudley sat as far away from Harry as possible on the ride home, but tried to hide his whimpering by insulting Harry instead. When Dudley noticed no reaction he became annoyed and went back to whimpering all the way home.

As soon as the Dursley's pulled in the driveway Harry grabbed his things and headed for his room. Neither Vernon nor Petunia cared about this, because the more that Harry wasn't around, the happier they would be. Harry carelessly dropped his things on the floor and fell onto his bed. He laid there for a while just looking at the ceiling. He then started unpacking all of his clothes and books and things, that is until he came across a small little mirror, the one from Sirius. It had been shattered when he had thrown it into his trunk at Hogwarts, but he had repaired it before leaving. He looked into it, knowing that he wouldn't be able to communicate with Sirius, but every time he looked into it, he had the sudden urge to call his name and there he would be. Harry gazed into, and said his godfathers name. And as always, his breath fogged it up and once it cleared all he could see was his own reflection. He held it as though it was really delicate and costly glass, and set it on his nightstand along with the page opened to his parents wedding picture, which had a young and handsome Sirius waving happily at him.

That night he didn't go down for dinner and fell asleep staring at his godfathers picture. Then Harry was suddenly awakened drenched in sweat from head to toe. He had the dream again, which was now becoming a daily thing because he was having it almost every night since he was at the Ministry. All he saw was Sirius' fearful expression and watching him fall behind the veil. And it would repeatedly play that image in his head, and Lupin saying, "There's nothing you can do Harry....It's too late Harry." He seemed to have been yelling in his sleep too, because he then heard his Uncle complain.

"Shut up in there! You're going to wake up poor Dudley! He's got an early interview for a new school tomorrow!"

Harry rolled his eyes. He could no longer sleep, so he decided to let Hedwig out of her cage. She sat there sympathetically nibbling his fingers, as if she knew that Harry was somehow upset.

"Oh Hedwig, I'm glad that at least you know how I feel. All I want is to see Sirius again. To hear him speak. I just want my godfather back."

Harry let his owl out so she could fly around the town of Little Whinging. He laid back on his bed and tried to put the thought of Sirius to the back of his mind. Then he closed his eyes and drifted off into an uneasy sleep. He was awoken again in only an hour, covered in more sweat. This happened every few hours for he had the dream over and over, with Harry getting very little sleep.

The next few weeks were no different. He only came down when he was famished and only at night, so he could bring lots of food to his room so he wouldn't have to leave it and be around any of the Dursleys. Dudley started to get a little suspicious after noticing that his favorite snack was gone, when he forbid anyone but him to eat them.

Two weeks had passed and Harry was sitting at his desk eating some cold leftover lasagna, which Aunt Petunia had made the night before, which was passed in through his cat flap on his door. He was so hungry he didn't care at how horrible it tasted cold, because he was so starved he would've even enjoyed a bogie flavored Every Flavor Bean. The Dursley's wondered how he lasted two weeks without food, but they didn't think too much of it, enjoying the fact that he was away from them. He passed the hours reading old letters from his friends and some books like Which Owl and Flying with the Cannons, which he had gotten at Christmas his second year from Ron. He also had homework to work on over the summer, which he had got a lot of done, being in his room for the past fourteen days.

Harry drifted peacefully off to sleep that night, something he hadn't been able to do all summer, from reading a book about Quidditch. It was a great dream, Harry was playing Quidditch and he had the wind breezing in his face and he felt relaxed, he felt free of all his problems as if he left them all on the ground when he kicked off. He was zooming past other players towards the top of the playing area searching for the snitch. Within seconds he had seen it, and dashed towards the gold blur. He anxiously drew out his arm...getting even closer...closer...he could feel the little wings of the ball...but just as he was about to grip his fingers tightly around it, and he would have made an amazing catch if his dream hadn't ended so quickly after being jolted awake by a pair hands, which were now tightly gripped on his shoulders jolting him awake.

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