A/N- This is my first Fan fic ever so please be nice an review for me. I promise the next chapter will be a bit more interesting... that's if you want me to update! Thanks to my beta Kelly for checking this over and the idea for the title!

Chapter One- Losing Grip

To any outsider, the residence of Number Four Privet Drive seemed like any other- a mother, a father and a son living in a posh house in a quite exclusive area of Surrey, with a beautiful garden kept neat and tidy by the tall, skinny woman of the family, who had rather a large amount of neck.

But in this nice, normal household, there lived another. The Boy Who Lived.

Harry Potter stared at his bedroom ceiling. The summer holidays were here, but he didn't feel much like doing anything. All he could think about was Sirius. Sirius was invading his dreams, his spare moments, every second of every day, a man, a picture of a man, with shaggy black hair and tattered robes filled his head. His godfather. His recently deceased godfather. What he would give for a chance to relive those moments, when they were under attack, and Sirius (plus others) came to his rescue, he could warn Sirius about the veil. The veil of no return.

All of a sudden, he was there again. A jet of green light narrowly missed his head, and when he looked up, Sirius was gone.

"Boy!" A man's sharp yell brought him out of his dreams. Harry ignored the tears forming in his eyes and answered.

"What?"

"Breakfast's ready."

"I'm not hungry." Not that he would be fed much anyway. The man (his uncle), his wife and their son did not approve of Harry, or his kind.

You see, Harry Potter was different. He wasn't normal. He was a wizard. He was The Boy Who Lived.

Harry rolled over onto his side. His aunt and uncle, the dreadful Dursley family, would not care why he hadn't ate one single meal with them since he came back from his magical boarding school, Hogwarts.

Suddenly, he heard a tapping noise coming from the window.

He looked over and felt a rush of excitement, yet sadness at the same time.

Zooming wildly in all directions by his window was the minute owl Pigwidgeon that belonged to his best friend Ron. Wizards and witches used owls to send letters to one another, and this was the first contact he had received from the wizarding world since the holidays began.

He opened the window and let Pig in, locking him in his own owl Hedwig's cage so he didn't cause too much mayhem. Thankfully Hedwig was out flying- she didn't think much of Pigwidgeon. Pig stuck out his leg, and Harry took the rolled up letter that was tied to it through the bars to read.

Harry had always felt at home at Hogwarts, among other members of the wizarding community. Yet now, now after the loss of Sirius, he didn't feel part of it, like he did not belong. The powerful wizards of the Ministry, they had failed him, failed Sirius...

Sirius himself had been more than a godfather to Harry. After his own parents died when he was only one year old, murdered by the darkest wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort (Harry managed to survive his killing curse, leaving him with a lightning shaped scar and the nickname, 'The Boy Who Lived'), when he met Sirius at the end of his third year it was like a dream come true. Sirius had been his dad's best friend, so having him in his life was like having a link to his parents too. And now he was gone. Leaving Harry alone in the Muggle world with no-one to turn to but the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia would easily surrender Harry to Voldemort's supporters to save her precious kitchen surfaces from being charred! And to top it all off, Lord Voldemort was back, as powerful as ever before, with an even larger group of Death Eaters than before, and his main target was the one who survived his attack, stripped him of his powers and reduced him to something non-human- Harry Potter.

Harry sighed and unrolled the parchment in his hand. It read-

Hi Harry! How are you? I suppose you'll want out of that Muggle place, eh? Mum says we can come and get you soon, but we're a bit busy now, what with You-Know-Who and everything. And Happy Birthday! You can get your present when you come to stay.

See you later, Ron.

Harry was furious. Ron's family were too busy dealing with the dark wizard who killed his parents, his one true enemy, who he had faced four times, wanted Harry dead to fulfil a prophecy's return that they couldn't find time to pick him up from this hellhole and take him to a place where he could take his mind off Sirius and have a bit of company? Plus there wasn't one single word asking how he was after he had just lost his godfather. Some people could be so insensitive.

Harry scrumpled up Ron's letter and ripped it into pieces, showering his carpet with parchment, much to the horror of Pigwidgeon.

He ran out of his bedroom, slamming the door behind him and made it through the front door, ignoring the shouts of, "You boy, come back here at once!" coming from the kitchen.

There would be hell to pay when he got back home, he knew it, but he just needed to be outside, away from Privet Drive. His feet led him where he wanted to go, his mind lost deep in thought once again about Voldemort and Sirius.

The heat of the summer day finally hit him as he entered the unshaded area of the local play park. Harry positioned himself on a swing and rocked backwards and forwards. Hours passes. Harry watched family after family, with screaming babies and squabbling toddlers, all enter the park, basking in the glory of the English summer sun. He watched friends, pre-teen giggling girls, boisterous young boys and teenagers, like himself, in couples, some going into the bushes for a quick kiss. And yet he never moved from that swing.

At around seven o' clock, the sun began to go down and it grew colder. All the squealing children and hassled parents left, followed closely by the remaining group of teenagers.

The park was completely empty and Harry was alone again.

Then, a beautiful girl of around sixteen, the age he would turn the next day, appeared at the entrance of the park. It was odd, as she was completely by herself.

She made her way across the park, her gorgeous dark hair tossed over her shoulders by the cool breeze, and sat in the swing next to Harry.

There was silence for a few moments before the girl said, "Hi, I'm Miranda," and stuck out her hand to shake Harry's.