CHAPTER ONE:

'Argggggghhhhhhhh!' Why the hell does that bloody thing have to be so loud?

'Because that's what I do', replied the alarm clock.

Anyone else in that household, or in that neighborhood, for that matter, would have found talking to an alarm clock rather odd. Furthermore, most, if not all, would have considered the alarm clock talking back an occurrence of extreme horror.

But not Harry Potter. Harry was a wizard, a rather powerful one at that. He had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the last six years, and was currently basking in the thought that he still had four whole weeks to laze about before returning to his home. He loved Hogwarts more than anything, but he did NOT appreciate the copious amounts of homework so often piled upon them.

Feeling more at ease than he had in years, Harry closed his eyes again. He opened them with a start. Why was I feeling at ease? Voldemort's still out there. Deciding to think about it later, he again closed his eyes.

Feeling that Harry was inclined to drift back off to sleep, the magical alarm clock decided that a round of 'We Will Rock You' by Queen was in order.

'SHUT THAT THING OFF!' shouted Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle, through the door. Harry couldn't blame him; it was rather early.

'OK! ITS OFF!'

'DON'T YOU SHOUT AT ME, BOY!'

'MIMBLEMUS MIMBLETONIA'

'Ourghh…don't you dare do anything fishy, my boy. You'll pay.' Vernon stalked off, hurrying to get away from the magical boy he could no longer control with harsh words and empty threats.

Harry smirked in his sleep. He didn't particularly enjoy terrorizing people, but considering that it was uncle Vernon, he made an exception. Vernon and his wife, Petunia, and their son, Dudley, were petrified of Magic, or as they like to call it, 'It'.

You see, underage wizards, that is, any wizard or witch under the age of 17, was prohibited from doing magic at home. However, as of 3.17 am that morning, Harry was no longer an underage wizard. Today was 31 July, his seventeenth birthday.

As if on cue, a large tawny owl arrived at the window, and was waiting patiently to be allowed entry. Harry groggily swept away his blankets, and winced as his feet were exposed to the cold floor. This cool feeling immediately evaporated in favour of a much warmer one when he realised that the owl was bearing a rather heavy looking package. Harry opened the window, and relieved the owl of its burden.

'Woot!' exclaimed Harry, rather livelier than he had been mere minutes ago. The package contained a letter from Hermione and a small box wrapped in birthday paper with the utmost care. Inside was a sold gold broom compass. It was just what he needed.

Harry lay the compass down, and picked up the letter. Inside was a card, along with a piece of parchment covered in Hermione's neat cursive script. Harry began to read:

Dear Harry,

HAPPY 17th BIRHTDAY! How are your holidays? Mine have been excellent, although I wish you were here.

'Odd' thought Harry. 'No mention of Ron'.

Corsica is amazing (where I am now). The weather is beautiful, and the towns…well, they're Corsican. Greece was good too, although It would be much more fun if I knew some people my own age. It's hard to get to know people, speaking English and all. I feel guilty for saying, or even thinking, this, but holidays with my parents seems so dull after all the excitement of school. I can't wait to be back (which will be in a few days!). Maybe we could meet up some time? Tell me when you are going to Diagon Alley to get your stuff, and we can meet up there. Oh, of course, there wont be any need for that (silly me ). I'm going to the burrow as soon as I get back, which of course means that you'll be there too. Has Ron owled you about that yet?

Have a wonderful birthday. I hope the Dursley's have been treating you well, or at least as well as can be expected. I must finish up now. Mum wants me to visit this antique store with her.

Lots of love,

Hermione.

By the way, can you believe it: I'M HEAD GIRL! I'm so shocked. I only got the letter this morning. I can hardly contain my self. I never thought it would be me….do you know who Head Boy is? I bet its you.

Enclosed is a photo of me in Greece.

Bye!

Harry peered into the envelope, and saw something that made his eyes pop out. 'Hermione…wow' he thought. Inside the envelope was a single photo, but one of which he thought he'd never receive from Hermione. Just looking at it made his pants tighten.

No, you git…it's Hermione. Your best friend….

She hasn't been just your best friend for a while, now, has she?

Who're you?

The sane, truthful part of your brain.

You don't know what your on about. Sod off.

I cant. I'm in your head.

Ron'll kill me.

All's fair in love and war.

Hermione'll kill me.

And she sent you a photo of herself half naked why?

Good point. No…sod off. You're mental.

Please yourself

Arghhhh!

The photo was of Hermione lying back on the sand wearing a small black bikini that fit her perfectly. She had a large straw hat on, and dark sunglasses. She was smiling into the camera.

Another owl, this time much smaller, flew through the open window, closely followed by two more. Harry recognized these owls as belonging to the Weasley's. The Weasley's were Harry's pseudo-family, the family of his best friend (other than Hermione), Ron. Harry retrieved the large package from the owls, and ripped off the wrapping. The box contained a large assortment of sweets. Harry smiled, grabbing a sugar quill from the pile and sitting down at his desk to write his letter to Hermione:

Dear Hermione,

How are you? Thank you for the Broom Compass; its perfect. I am glad that you are having fun in Greece and Corsica . I am going to Ron's. He's just owled me  . the Dursley's are fine – all I have to do is mumble quietly under my breath and I can do whatever I please. I would never hurt them, but they don't need to know that .

CONGRATULATIONS ON BEING HEAD GIRL! I knew you'd get it – how could they choose anyone else?

See you soon,

Love,

Harry.

P.S. I do know who Head Boy is. It's me. Now that was a shock and a half – I'm hardly what you'd call a 'model student' like you. I'm just glad it wasn't Malfoy. What a thought: you having to share a bathroom with Malfoy.(I can just imagine the look on your face – hehehe)

He rolled his letter up, and attached it to Hedwig's leg. She soared out through the widow and into the sun.

Harry put his presents on the shelf above his bed, and hid the sweets under the loose floorboard. He had to hide them from Dudley, who devoured anything sugary with tremendous speed. He propped the photo of Hermione up against his light, next to his birthday cards.

He looked at the clock: it read 7.15. it was still too early for breakfast or a shower, as either would wake the Dursleys. Void of anything to do, Harry decided to go for a run. He had been doing this ever since term finished, trying to tone up a bit and lose his lanky physique. It wasn't working, as far as he could tell, but he certainly was getting fitter. The first time he had only managed three blocks, but now he was up to about 4 miles a day. Harry dressed and slipped on his trainers, and went out the door into the crisp morning air.

Puffed and sweaty from his run, Harry entered the house thought the kitchen door. He made his way quietly up the stairs and into the bathroom. As the blast of water seared his skin, Harry thought of his upcoming stay with Ron, and the fact that Hermione would be there too. What am I going to do? I know that Ron is in love with Hermione, but if she loved him back, she would have done something by now. unless she's like me, and hides her feelings away. This is hopeless…I DO NOT LIKE HERMIONE! I saw one photo of her on a beach. That could have been anyone, and I would have reacted the same way, especially with a body like that…cor…..STOP! I. Must. Stop. Thinking. Like. That.

This went on for quite a while, and before Harry knew it, Dudley was banging on the door, verbally abusing Harry for having spent too long in the shower.