Chapter 1: The big Change.

Harry Potter sat in his bed rubbing his forehead. He had just felt the most pain he had felt in months, yet somehow he felt pleased. What's Voldemort so pleased for? He started thinking, for he knew that the pleased feeling he had wasn't his, it was Lord Voldemort's. Lately Voldemort has been feeling happier and happier, but why? What is he doing? What has he achieved? A million questions had been running through his mind, he just wished they could be answered.
Harry had only been back at Privet Drive for a month, but it felt like years. At least the Dursleys had been acting differently towards him, not out of a change of heart but out of fear. Every now and then Uncle Vernon, Harry's uncle, would say something like: "you tell those freaks—I mean friends of yours that we're not doing you any harm," or "are you happy enough now, boy? Are we making you feel at home?" Harry also noticed that the Dursleys had stopped threatening him, and this was a big change than what he was used to.
He had had no contact with the magical world since his return from Hogwarts, and today's the day he should write to someone, tell them Voldemort is pleased about something. But what if they don't care? What if the Order already knows? I'd be just wasting their time; they don't need to know about every time my scar hurt. He wanted to talk to someone, he felt very lonely especially since Sirius's death. He picked up some parchment and a quill but he didn't know what to write, and who to write to. He wanted to write to Ron, but then started thinking why didn't he write to me first? He knows I'm all by myself, he must be having too much fun with all his brothers and sister and parents who love him! No, he mustn't think that way! Ronald Weasley was his best friend; he was probably just too busy like last year. A month was a long time to wait though, so he started to write:

Dear Ron,
I haven't talked to anyone in the magical world for a month, and I am a little worried. I hope everything is okay. Is Hermione with you? I haven't heard from her either. The Dursleys are acting very differently towards me. They are not nice, but they are not horribly hateful either, I think they're just too scared though. Write back soon, and if you can, tell me when I can leave this horrible house.
Talk to you soon (I hope), Harry.

He read and re-read his letter over and over, making sure there wasn't any information that Voldemort could get of his letter. Walked over to Hedwig and found that she was still asleep. He looked over at his clock and was surprised to find it saying 5:00 AM. His scar had woken him up so early. The Dursleys probably weren't up yet, and he didn't want to wake them, he liked them better when they were asleep. He put the letter next to Hedwig's cage, and let her sleep peacefully.
A small tapping noise came from his window. He looked and saw a small owl twittering happily outside his window. "PIG!" He was so happy to see Ron's owl! He hurriedly opened the window and Pig came in carrying a package that was bigger than the owl himself. Harry opened the package so fast that it was as if it was the first time he saw a package. Inside was a cake that said HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY on it, and he assumed this was from Mrs. Weasley. Also inside was a card, a newspaper and a note. He picked up the card first. On the front of it was an illustration of a birthday cake with 16 candles on it and he Harry blowing out the candles, then the candles would re-ignite and the Harry in the picture would blow them out again. Harry opened the card and read:

Harry,
Happy birthday mate! Sorry we haven't written to you in weeks, (actually a month Harry thought) but I've been really busy. Mom's making us clean like mad, she's turned mental over cleaning! Imagine that Harry, 2 summers and we're still not done! It's driving me crazy. I'm so tired!
Have you heard from Hermione? She hasn't written to me at all, do you think something's wrong? I'm really worried; she's never been this long without writing! Even when she was in France she still managed to write. I Hope to hear from you soon. Ron

Harry couldn't help but worry about Hermione. He hoped she would write today, it was his birthday after all, she always sent him something for his birthday. He reached in the box for the note.

Hope you like this issue of the Daily Prophet! We finally convinced Dumbledore to convince them to run this story. Hope you like it
Ron

He reached into the package and took out the newspaper. On the front page he was amazed to find a big picture of Sirius. Not the ones they had of him looking all crazy from Azkaban but a good one, one that looked like it was from after Azkaban, it looked like it was taken in number twelve Grimmauld Place. He was smiling, obviously happy. Harry couldn't bear to look at that picture, he felt so much pain growing inside him, he missed Sirius so much. If he could only talk to him one more time, just once more. Under the picture there was an article it said:

Sirius Black: he was innocent

Presumed murderer, Sirius Black, turns out to be innocent. He was framed by the very wizard we thought he killed... (to read the rest turn to page 12.)

Harry couldn't bring himself to read the article. He knew the whole story anyway, why read it. He turned to page 12 anywayto see how long it was when he saw that it said a young friend of Black's wrote him a poem. Harry didn't want to read it, until he saw that it was written by Ginny Weasley. The poem said:

Sirius Black: by Ginny Weasley

Sirius Black, oh, Sirius black,

You are what our hearts lack.

You are now beyond the grave,

You died protecting Harry, oh, you were so brave.

People really misjudged you,

They thought a murderer of you.

Oh, so many people were so wrong!

But you never quit, you stayed strong.

Now, oh now, they'll all know the truth,

They'll all want forgiveness for wasting your youth.

I hope you know that we all loved you,

And we want you to know that we'll always miss you. I

Causes us so much pain

To know that we'll never see you again.

There is one more thing we want to tell you,

Listen closely, this is completely true:

YOUR NAME WILL FOREVER BE INGRAVED IN OUR HEARTS.

Harry read the poem over and over. He couldn't hold back his tears any longer, so he just let them flow. Ginny? Ginny wrote this? After reading this he realized something, he wasn't the only one affected by Sirius's death. Ginny was obviously really affected by Sirius's death. He suddenly felt guilty; he was so selfish thinking he was the only one sad about Sirius's death. He felt guilty that he didn't want to talk to anyone about how he felt about Sirius dying when he wasn't the only one feeling the same. They needed to talk about it too. Ginny has gotten her feelings out through this poem, he needed to get his feelings out too, he needed to talk about it with someone.
He looked at his clock and was amazed yet again at the time. It was 7:45 already. He had spent all this time, reading and re-reading the poem. He wiped his face into his sheets and went to the kitchen for breakfast. When he reached the table, the Dursleys stopped talking as they always did when he came in nowadays. They were all looking at him, with what were supposed to be 'innocent' looks.
"I presume you want us to get you a present!" said Uncle Vernon,
"If you want, but I really don't need it from you." Harry felt too depressed to celebrate his birthday, and he didn't want to start another argument with his uncle.
"What is that supposed to mean 'I don't need it from you' we're not worth it?" his uncle retorted, his face slowly turning purple.
Harry ignored him; he didn't want to argue, not now. He couldn't care less what his uncle thought. He got up and headed for the stairs while the Dursleys stared at him with open mouths, leaving so rudely without even answering his Uncle. Harry was tired of his aunt and uncle, no matter how "nice" they were, he couldn't stand them anymore! So he just wanted to leave the kitchen and he would go back to his room where he wouldn't be bothered.
"Come back here boy! Don't you ignore me! I SAID COME BACK HERE!" His uncle stood up so fast that he threw his chair backwards with a big BANG on the ground. Harry came down the stairs now feeling furious that his uncle was yelling at him.
"WHAT? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME! I SAID I DIDN'T WANT YOUR STUPID GIFTS!" Harry was now yelling.
"You ungrateful FREAK! We try to make your life better out of the goodness of our hearts and you're here telling us tha—"
"SHUT UP!" Everyone was surprised to find that Harry wasn't the one who said this. Dudley was on his feet, his plump face turning really pink making him look even more like a pig in a wig.
"What is it Diddykins? What's wrong? Is all the shouting giving you a headache? Come on, come with mommy let's go out for breakfast huh, my little sweetie?" Aunt Petunia told Dudley, yanking his arm gesturing to him to go with her.
"No, I don't want to. Leave me alone." He answered. Harry was used to his spoiled cousin yelling at his parents. But this time it was different, this time Dudley looked different, he looked almost sad? Dudley? Sad? But why? He always loved watching his father yelling at Harry, and he loved attention from his mother. Why was he acting so weird for?
"What's wrong son? What's the matter?" Said uncle Vernon, not slightly mad about his son telling him to shut up. If it was me I would have been strangled by now Harry thought indignantly.
"Nothing, nothing...I just, I, I it's nothing, never mind." And with that he left to his room, leaving everyone guessing what could be wrong with him. What would cause such an outbreak? Harry hadn't seen Dudley act this weird since last summer when he was confronted by dementors. Harry took this opportunity to sneak off to his room, but he had no luck.
"Where do you think you're going, boy? I'm not done with you yet!" His uncle started walking towards him, and had gotten so close to Harry that he spit out every syllable in Harry's face.
Harry wiped his face with his sleeve, "say it don't spray it!" he said, laughing in his Uncle's face. All the fear he had once had of his uncle had now vanished. There was nothing that his Uncle could do to him that was worse than his fate. He was going to have to be a murderer, or be murdered. Nothing he could do could change that.
"Don't get smart with me, boy!" Uncle Vernon was about to attack when he apparently he remembered the little chat he had at King's Cross Station. "Get out of my face, go on, leave!" He was infuriated; all he could do was send Harry away to his room.
"Gladly." Said Harry coolly, a triumphant look on his face. Knowing that his Uncle was so irritated, yet he could do nothing about it, brought him pleasure. He went up the stairs, and when he passed by Dudley's room, he heard someone sobbing. He pushed the door and it squeaked open. His cousin, Dudley, looked up at him with puffy red eyes.
"D Dudley, what's wrong?" he said shakily, for the first time in his life he felt bad for his cousin. "What are you crying for?"
"It's--nothing, re—ally." He said in between sobs. Harry stepped into the room.
"Dudley, tell me. It can't be nothing if you're crying."
"Harry, I'm so sorry..."