Disclamer: I do not own Harry Potter
Not So Perfect
Chapter 1Stars filled the sky, the moon was waxing and shining down though a window at a boy. And this wasn't any ordinary boy, either. This boy was The Boy Who Lived. This boy was Harry Potter, now at the age of 14.
But Harry wasn't having a very good summer.
Harry Potter had come home(well, perhaps 'home' isn't the best word, but for lack of a better of a better one, it'll have to do) from his 4th year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, hoping for a quiet summer in which the Durslys would leave him alone.
However, that had not happened.
A week after returning to number 4, Privet Drive, Harry had said something(although he couldn't quite remember what) to Vernon Dursly that had sent him over the proverbial edge.
That day, Harry's Uncle had hit him. And then again. And again. This became a regulur occurrence for Harry. It was now eight days from his birthday, and Harry was sitting in the celler or number 4, Privet Drive, leaning on the wall, waith bruses all over his body.
And the, finally, with the moon sinking below the horizon, Harry stumbled upstairs, to his room. He went to his desk and hasily scrawled a note.
It read as suck:
Professer Dumbledore, please, you must let me stay some were else for the rest of the summer. I am not safe here with the Durslys.
Harry
Harry tied the letter to his owl, Hedwig, and opened the window. Whaching Hedwig fly away, Harry realized what time it was, and hurried back down stairs to the celler. He leaned against the wall, just as he had been before, and awaited Dumbledore's answer.