I don't own Harry Potter, or it's characters. Oh how I wish I did. Darn you Amazing J.K. Rowling….

This is my first foray into fan fic. So...here goes! All Comments and reviews are greatly appreciated. This story is written in a style like that of J.K. Rowling. In Harry's perspective and all. There are some relationships, but none out of character ones, for example no DM/ HG. Sorry guys. There is a lot of McGonagall in this story though. She plays a larger role in this one in later chapters. Well, enjoy!

Another Year and Another Problem

1. Privit Again

She sat staring at a fragment of parchment, thinking. Twisting her long brown and silver streaked hair around her fingers until it knotted, and she had to distractedly untangle her fingers from its unyielding strands. She never thought anything like this would, could surface. Not again at any rate. She couldn't understand how, how this had happened, and least of all, how she had gotten sucked into it.

Harry sat huddled in the dark, small cupboard, shivering under a blanket, although it was a humid day in early July.

He liked coming here still, he had a room of course, the Dursley's saw to that after those letters first year, but he still enjoyed slipping back to where he had spent years of his life. Besides, here, he was alone.

The Dursley's didn't bother him while he was in his room, or for that matter, around the house that much anymore. But his room was so full of reminders of his other life. Hedwig, his trunk, books, wand, and letters, so many letters from his friends, friends who carefully avoided the questions he knew they longed to ask him. A life he loved, yes, but at the same time, the life he almost wished hadn't happened.

"After all," Harry thought to himself, "If I didn't know I was a wizard, I would have never met Sirius, and then gotten him…" He still couldn't think of his godfather without chills running through him.

He knew, of course in all logic, he didn't really wish he never learned of his wizarding talents, or of his parents, or met all of the wonderful… and not so wonderful people that he had met since that day, five years ago he had learned of his past. Had learned he was a wizard, and not just any wizard, but one wanted dead by a man who had killed so many so mercilessly.

"Slam!", came the sound of a front door banging it's way into the hall. "Uncle Vernon must be home", Harry thought sourly, "goodie."

Although, as of late his uncle and aunt had rather seemed it best in dealing with Harry, not to. They simply ignored his entire existence. If he ate, slept, was breathing, really seemed of no concern what so ever to them.

Harry had expected nearly as much, considering it was rather his fault that dementors had attacked their son approximately a year ago. But he had saved Dudley, "more than he deserved really," Harry thought bitterly. That was another reason this summer had been so silent, he supposed, Dudley. Dudley, who was, well to say a bully would be putting it kindly, a bully to Harry since he could remember being at the Durleys, was on holiday with a few members of his gang. They were "camping with his mate's parents" or more likely in the woods somewhere with his buddies drinking stolen beer. He would be gone the next week.

"Where's the boy?" he heard his uncle bellow to Aunt Petunia. He had better show up now and get whatever it was over with now before and explosion occurred (which was a rather common occurrence).

"What?" Harry asked quickly jumping out of the cupboard, leaving his blanket behind. He tried quickly to dust some of the dust off of him in an attempt to look less shabby, not an easy task to accomplish with disheveled clothing and hair that refused to stay flat.

Uncle Vernon, with some trouble, restrained from commenting on Harry's choices of lounging spots. "We are leaving. By we I mean your aunt and I, are leaving for the week to go see Marge because she has taken ill, and since she obviously despises you, I feel it unwise to bring you with us."

"So?" said Harry wondering why they were even bothering to let him know before they stuck him at Mrs. Figg's house. Granted she was nice enough, especially much nicer after Harry realized she was a Squibb, but she was still a little odd, and smelled of tuna.

"SO," Uncle Vernon boomed, as not to be interrupted again, "You need to ring, or owl, or whatever, those funny little friends of yours and have them take you."

It took Harry a minute to fully grasp this…."So I'm leaving for the week or for the summer?" He asked tentatively.

"For the summer of course why would we want you back here when Dudders comes home? He's still very shaken." His aunt said, finally putting her two cents in to the matter.

Now Harry understood. They were afraid that he would have some other beast-like thing get Dudley. Well fine. If that is how they thought, if they still didn't understand that it wasn't he who…but never mind that now. He was going back early. Going back to the world he belonged in…or did he?

He wrote to Ron telling him what the Dursleys had said and to ask his mum. He knew that he did belong there, more than any one place in the world, and no matter how much went on last year; he needed to see his friends. He would just deal with his memories…when he had to.

Harry tied the letter from Ron onto Hedwig's waiting outstretched leg. "Take this to Ron, he's at the Burrow," he said quickly. She simply hooted at him and soared out the open window. He watched her go, and then, when she was out of sight, he closed the window.

Now he had to wait for Ron's response. He had no doubts that Mr. And Mrs. Weasley would take him for the summer; after all they were the closest things he had to a real family now. And had told him many times that he could come any time.

Harry wandered about his room for the remainder of the day packing his belongings into his trunk haphazardly, he remembered last year Tonks whipping everything into it's place in seconds. Well as an underage he still couldn't even do the simplest of packing charms without fear of expulsion from Hogwarts, and he had had quite enough of that worry last year to suit him a lifetime.

He finished packing, and fell asleep that night with thoughts of the burrow to drift him off to sleep. He was walking up to the gate of the slightly crooked home, and waiting for him at the door was Ron, and Hermione, and Dobby? He walked past them, he was looking for something, for someone…He started to run through the rooms, seeing house elf heads on walls now, they were singing at him…what was it they were saying? He couldn't make it out. He was running, running to what? Then He threw open a door to see nothing but a large black cloth hanging on a wall…

Harry bolted upright. What had woken him? His scar wasn't hurting. What had he been dreaming? Oh. Sirius. He thought he should be used to those dreams by now. Nearly every night his thoughts would manifest themselves whether he wanted them to or not.

He closed his eyes again and drifted to sleep, though this time blissfully dreamless.

The next morning Harry awoke to find Hedwig tapping at the window to let her in, in his haste to go to bed last night he must of forgot to re-open the window for her return. She flew in fluffed up, and settled on top of her cage Harry reached for the letter in her beak, she nipped his finger as he took it, a little harder than normal. "I suppose that was for the window." He said to her. She simply hooted and turned her back. "Fine, be that way," Harry said playfully, "but no toast for you." She sheepishly turned and nudged him affectionately. "Okay, well, fine you can have some. I'll get it in a bit." And at that she happily hopped into her cage.

"Let's see what Ron has to say", Harry thought as he turned over the letter. Instantly his heart jumped into his throat. This was not a letter from Ron, but from…from who?

His mind raced as he tore open the letter with the familiar seal, "Who could be writing back in response from Ron? Whose seal is this on the letter?" The questions kept coming. "Calm down Harry," he thought to himself, "Just breathe and read the letter."

Dear Mr. Potter,

I have received your letter asking Mr. Weasley to stay at the Burrow with him. Unfortunately this is impossible as Mr. Weasley is not there. Your extremely intelligent bird however had the foresight to bring the letter here. Not sure how she knew though…

Harry's heart jumped into his throat. Hedwig had never delivered the letter to someone who it wasn't for. Who was this what was going on? He recognized the handwriting though, he continued reading,

Do not worry Mr. Potter, Ron is safe, everyone is here, we are sending a few members to retrieve you from the Dursley's. See you soon.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

P.S. Hope your summer is going well Harry.

Harry let out a huge sigh of relief at he closing words of the letter. They were coming for him just like last year. But where could they be going? Certainly not Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Not after last year, but where? Apparently his professor was there. Who else, the whole order? No. They all couldn't be together.

Now all he had to do was wait…wait for the order to show up again and whisk him away from Number four Privet Drive. But to where, exactly?

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