The summer after that marvellously exciting first year was dismal and sad for The-Boy-Who-Lived. The Dursleys did not like the fact that Harry Potter was a wizard, any more than they liked a pebble in their shoe (Scribe's note: I actually enjoy having a pebble in my shoe sometimes..). His trunk and wand were locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and Harry himself was usually locked in his room, "Making no noise and pretending he wasn't there." His owl, Hedwig, was even locked in her cage. The Dursleys forbid Harry any contact from the magical world. Then, wonder of wonders, a strange creature appeared in his room one unfortunate night, as the Dursleys were entertaining a very important personage for Vernon's enterprise. Dobby the House-Elf was an interesting person to talk to. "It was almost like banging your head against the wall," Harry told me, "but he did it more often." Dobby was unable to tell Harry outright that trouble was brewing in Hogwarts that year, but he did his best, even trying to get Harry into so much trouble he would not be able to return to Hogwarts. He kept all correspondence that Ron and Hermione had written him (each one getting a little bit more frantic), until, to top it off, made the very pretty dessert Petunia had created to float, and crash upon the kitchen floor. Harry was officially under house arrest, going so far as to get bars on his windows.

Then, one dark, stormy night... Err... I mean, one particularly inner- turmoiled evening for Harry, he heard a very unusual sound coming from outside his barred and locked window. A floating car, containing no less than three redheaded Weasleys appeared. Ronald, George and Fred Weasley had flown the family Ford Angelica to Privet Drive, solely for the purpose of saving Harry from his miserable demise. His-

"GINNY!! DINNER! HURRY UP!!"

Fred's dulcet tones broke through Ginny's concentration. Getting up from her special spot in front of the fire (that way she was messenger should anybody floo-message), she dusted off her hands on her jeans, and wandered back into the dinning area. The twins were setting the table, and her mum was bustling about setting out all Harry's favourite foods. Already it was Harry's birthday, and the Weasleys were going to make sure that Harry would have a good one. His pile of presents was on the table in the hall, and Ginny touched the one from her fondly as she passed. She had got him some seeker gloves, and had drawn him a picture. One of her talents was drawing, and the picture depicted one of his winning Quidditch games from his third year. As she walked into the kitchen to give her mother a hand, Ginny heard the clump of two pairs of feet coming down the stairs, and their conversation slightly loud.

"She doesn't like me! Why would she? As far as she's concerned, I'm a thorn in her side." Ron's mournful tone drifted down. Molly was busy fretting over slightly burnt chicken to notice, but the twins looked up evilly.

"I'm serious. She doesn't hate you. In fact, she might even-" Harry wasn't able to finish the sentence because Ron realised they had ended up in the kitchen, and so hastened to shut up before it was too late. Too late.

Ron's face was slowly turning redder than a tomato. He looked around furtively in hopes of an escape from the twins' evil grins. Ginny shared an amused glance with Harry over Ron's shoulder. When Molly bustled in, she saw a strange sight. Ron was opening and closing his mouth like a fish, the twins were wearing very identical expressions of evil satisfaction, and Ginny and Harry were trying their hardest not to laugh, their eyes already tearing up. Molly blinked.

"And what are you all doing?" she peered down her nose sternly. :Here I am trying to get dinner on the table, and you all get to stand around like a bunch of trees! Fred, George, stop staring at your brother and finish setting the table Ginny, come help me in the kitchen. Harry dear, you can go into the living room to wait. Ron, for heavens' sake close your mouth. You look like a simpleton. And go see if your father and Hermione are ready to come in to wash up. They're in the garage." After one last firm glance around, she stalked back into the kitchen. Ginny followed with one last amused glance in the direction of Ron, still biting her lip to hold in her giggles.

Harry and Ron continued on, towards the living room.

"I'm going to get it from those blasted twins. Why didn't you warn me? I should have kept my mouth shut. Why didn't you say anything!?" Ron continued along on this vein for a short while waving his hands about, and pacing about the room. Finally Harry got tired of Ron's ramblings about nothing ever happening in his life that is good, and reminded him of his mother's request. Ron spluttered.

"I can't do that! Not now!! Hermione is out there! I can't talk to her!!"

"Ron, she's one of your best friends. She would be hurt if you went about ignoring her now. And anyway, your dad is there too. It's not like she's going to attack you. Leave me to think a little for cripes sake!!!" Harry turned Ron towards the door and gave him a push that nearly knocked him over. Ron left, muttering under his breath and wringing his hands.

Harry looked around the living room, wondering what to do now. Thinking distantly about taking care of his broom (it was upstairs in the room he shared with Ron), he headed towards the fire to warm himself, and noticed a pile of parchment placed nearby. He took a quick glance at it.

'Harry Potter is not an ordinary guy. In fact, he is the least ordinary guy I've ever known...'

Harry's eyes widened. He picked up the pile to read more.