"He's been acting strange ever since he came back, Vernon."

"What do you mean by "acting strange"? He's a bloody wizard, that's what he is!"

Petunia hissed to silence Mr. Dursley, mindful of Harry's prickling ears as he walked past them, taciturn. She leaned over to Vernon's ear as their nephew went out of earshot.

"Ever since he's come back from the dreadful school, he's been…silent. Obedient, nonetheless. But it just feels so peculiar."

Vernon paid no attention to his wife's concerns; Harry being obedient was like Dudley turning into a model. He would abuse this opportunity till it beat Harry within an inch of his life.

Harry passed Dudley quietly, giving no notification he had seen the towering tub of lard walk past him. He climbed the stairs and walked into his room, closing the door gently behind him.

His body seemed to have withered over the summer; his emerald green eyes had gone dull, the vibrancy of his raven black hair diminished. He hadn't bothered to clean his glasses, and he barely spoke. Ever since the death of his godfather, well, he couldn't recover.

Falling back into the curtain, the same, stiffened face of the Stupefy charm apparent. Falling back, back. Then, vanished. He could feel himself scream, hear himself roar out in defiance. NO! Not Sirius! Why him!

And the hatred. The hatred that he was always cruelly treated. He barely got the recognition he desired; sure the claps on the back and the cheers were there, but it seemed…worthless. He wanted more simple things. But the simple were the impossible for him.

He wanted his family back.

He wanted his life back.

A knock came from the door, emerald swimming looking around to see Aunt Petunia had come in. Though she always spoke saucy of her sister, she couldn't help but feel a tinge of pity for the poor boy. Resuming her constitution of arrogance, she spoke quietly.

"Come to dinner, Harry." She closed the door behind her.

He bowed his head, covering his eyes as Hedwig's cage was left vacant of his beloved feathered friend. How could he go back to Hogwarts after what he learned in the Ministry of Magic? Worse, what would Ron be like when he returned from the scars he faced with the brains?

He gently gripped his head, fingers running through his untamed hair as he heard a small chirping noise.

"Hedwig!" The snowy predator flew gracefully through his open window, a parcel clutched in her talons.

Undoing the tang that held the letter to her leg, she ruffled her feathers and perched on his windowsill. He recognized the chicken scrawl as Ron's and quickly opened it.

Dear Harry,

You've been quiet all summer; are you doing ok? Fred and George are still teasing me about the scars. (Harry chuckled.) Anyway, seeing you down, I was wondering if you wanted to visit me at the Leaky Cauldron sometime next week. You looked depressed when we departed from Platform 9¾ so I decided to give you a pick- me- up. What do you say? Send Hedwig back because Errol caught the flu last time we tried to send a parcel to Percy when he was up in Norway.

Ron

Harry gave a small smile as he read the letter over; he didn't have his family but he enjoyed his friends' honesty to be there for him. Folding up the letter, he tucked it into his back pocket as he went down for dinner.

"Uncle Vernon." He looked up from his platter of soup, looking almost shocked.

Harry twirled his spoon pensively in his bowl of tomato soup, staring at the edge of his plate.

"I was wondering if…well, um…"

"Yes, what is it, boy?"

Swallowing, he shut his eyes and opened them slowly.

"My friend, Ron, um…he's invited me to an outing…sometime next week and…I was wondering if…um…if I could go."

Once more, Vernon was faced with an annoying challenge. If he kept Harry here, he would be disobedient. But if he let him go, Harry would be happy; the prospect of seeing a smile on Harry's face made his cheeks turn plum.

"Fine, but you're getting there by yourself."

Harry looked up, surprised. That wouldn't be a problem, he thought. He could take the Knight Bus to London in no time. It was better than Floo Powder by any means. Finishing dinner with a sudden vigor, he cleaned up his place and darted up the stairs. Swinging his door shut and turning on his lamp, he grabbed a spare piece of parchment and a quill. He scribbled, having to rewrite the letter because of his sudden jubilance.

Dear Ron,

They said yes and I'll need to know when to come to the Leaky Cauldron. Otherwise I'll see you soon!

Harry

Tying the note to Hedwig's leg, he fed her some spare scraps from the table as she flew off. Watching her ghost sail into the night, he leaned back on his sill. He was looking into the stars, sighing gently as he ruffled his hair and sat back down.

He looked to his nightstand, seeing his mother and father smiling and playfully dancing with each other. He touched their faces, smiling gently as he turned off the lights and soon went to bed. He was on the verge of unconsciousness when he bolted upright.

"Oh no! I forgot my Bogart essay is due in a week! I haven't even started on any of my homework!" Scrambling into his trunk, he threw out parchment, textbooks and quills and furiously went to work.