Disclaimer: I, Ninjanums in no way shape or form own anything to do with Harry Potter, although i would very much like to.
The summer of Privet Drive had been its usual. The inhabitants contending against one another as to who had the best-kept lawn, the neatest garden, the cleanest car. As usual, they spent much of their time gossiping about one thing or another.
'Did you see that person who went into number 6...?'
'Mrs Number 8 had a new bed delivered…..'
'That Harry Potter…..'
In addition, all their other usual topics of conversation. However, this summer the had a new subject to discuss- the 'for sale' sign outside number 3.
None of the inhabitants could understand firstly why the people who currently live at number 3 wanted to move- they had always seemed so happy living in Privet Drive- why were they leaving?
Secondly- who was going to move into number 3? Were they going to be some weirdo's who really wouldn't fit in?
The village was buzzing with the rumours of what was going on. Harry heard all the rumours on this as he walked around Little Whining.
Since he had come back this summer, he had spent most of this time walking around the village. He was always met by scornful looks from the inhabitants- suspicion. But then he was supposed to be going to St Brutus' wasn't he?
He found that he didn't really care. He had more important things to think about, so the silly opinions of the residents of Little Whining was not really at the top of his priorities.
On his walks, Harry had spent most of his time thinking about what had happened before the end of term. What Voldemort had done. What had happened to Sirius. What Dumbledore had told him.
What was he going to do? He had just lost his godfather- the closest thing to a parent he had ever had. And on top of that, he had been told that in the near future he had to murder someone, or, he'd be murdered. So on the whole he thought that things weren't looking exactly peachy for him.
And now to top it all off, he was stuck in this place. Where he was looked upon with scorn and distaste. Where he had spent his childhood being bullied and ridiculed. All this because he 'had to', because he was 'safe'.
Was that supposed to make him feel better?
One day when Harry came home from one of his walks around the village he saw that the 'for sale' sign had been taken down. Being replaced instead with a 'sold' one.
Harry groaned. This would be the newest topic of conversation.
Who was moving in?
He pondered for a moment whether to go inside the house. Aunt Petunia was already worrying about what their new neighbours were going to be like. She was worried that if they turned out to be freaks then her and her family may be tarred with the same brush.
'Well I've got nowhere else to go.' Harry said to himself. He reached for the doorknob and turned it walking into the bright light within the house.
'Vernon we have to be the first ones to greet them. We have to look like we're good neighbours.' aunt Petunia was walking around the kitchen cleaning frantically. 'What if we end up with some weirdo's next door? What would the neighbours think? What if- if they turn out to be you know, one of them?'
Harry had heard enough of this. He mounted the stairs and made his way to his bedroom. He changed and got in to bed. He wondered what affect the new neighbours would have on him. Not a lot he thought to himself.
Harry closed his eyes and fell almost immediately into sleep.
A/N: hope you liked. if you did review if you didn't reveiw anyway.