A/N

Well, here's chapter two! Many thanks to my first three reviewers: etcies, mysticruby, andlmill123 (listed first to latest). Also a big thank you to my brother, who's help with ideas and feedback has been invaluable.

Review responses at the bottom

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one that I write of in this story. It all belongs to the wonderful, brilliant J.K. Rowling.

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Chapter 2

The First Letter

Harry was up before his Aunt Petunia the next morning, and decided to make breakfast before she told him to for once. He really didn't have anything else to do anyway. He rubbed his eyes and sighed tiredly as he put a pan of bacon on the stove.

Once he finished cooking the rather large breakfast, he set it all on the table and decided to eat his own as fast as possible, before the Dursleys came down and consumed it all. He had just polished off two helpings of bacon and eggs, and was reaching for another slice of toast, when his aunt came stalking into the kitchen. She pursed her lips as she saw the food already laid out on the table, obviously quite upset that she could find nothing to criticize.

Then her eyes lit up with glee. "Thought you'd get out of your chores for the day by fixing breakfast did you, boy?" she asked. Apparently she had found a way to criticize. She wasn't done speaking though. "We'll just see about that then. Here's your list of chores for the day" She gestured to a piece of paper taped to the refridgerator. "See that you do everything on there by dinner time, or you'll get nothing to eat."

After the night he'd had, Harry was in no mood for this. So he said one simple word, and into that word he poured every bit of disdain, anger, and force he could muster.

"No"

Petunia gave a violent start, and jerked around from where she'd been staring out the kitchen window to stare at him in amazement. He'd never refused to do chores before. "What did you say to me, boy?" she demanded angrily.

Harry looked her steadily right in the eye. "No," he repeated. "I refuse to act as your slave anymore. Have your fat lump of a son do the chores for once."

"Why you ungrateful little.." she started, but Harry didn't hear any more, because he had stalked out the back door, slamming it angrily behind him.

He decided he'd better cool off before he lost control of his magic, the incident with Aunt Marge three years before was still fairly recent reminder of what tended to happen if he got too angry. Without even realizing it, he headed for the park. Once there, he sat down under a nearby tree, having noticed that the last swing had been broken sometime recently. Legs spread wide in front of him, he relaxed slightly as his mind drifted back to what he'd just told his aunt. Apparently the Order's warning hadn't had any effect on them. Well he'd take care of that. He was most definitely not going to take anything from them this summer, not after the positively lousy year he'd just managed to have. No doubt about it, this year had been his worst at Hogwarts by far.

His gaze swept around the park and he noticed with surprise that there were already a few mothers with their children here, even though it couldn't have been later than eight or so. He smiled slightly when he saw a small girl, no more than four or five, squeal with delight when she slid down the nearby slide. His smile turned to a frown when he saw that several of the mothers were eyeing him with distrust, and he let out a sad sigh. The Dursleys were obviously still portraying him as a juvenile delinquent, and he couldn't really blame the muggles for believing them. After all, he did look the part. Baggy, shabby-looking clothes, horribly messed up hair that looked like he never took care of it, and he was a bit odd....being a wizard tended to make one odd.

He shook himself mentally and ignored the women that were still shooting him suspicious glances. He turned his own gaze back to the little girl he'd seen earlier. She was nearing the top of the slide again, and had a look of anticipation on her innocent face. Harry idly wondered what it'd be like to have a child of his own someday. Some might have thought it odd that a teenage boy was thinking about having children, but for Harry, this sort of thing was normal. He didn't really know what was normal for other people anyway, and the one thing in the world he wanted the most was a family. Perhaps one day he would have one.

His thoughts suddenly took a darker turn. How was he ever supposed to have a family if he was going to be killed by Voldemort. Oh, Harry had no doubts he'd lose. What chance did he have against the most powerful Dark Lord for centuries?

Still, it'd be nice. He'd come home from work in the evening, and his little girl would come laughing and screaming into his arms. He'd read her stories in front of the fire as she fell asleep in his lap. He could almost picture her, she'd have his eyes, and red hair that seemed to burn in the firelight....

Suddenly, Harry sat bolt upright. Red hair? Where on earth had that come from? He gave a small chuckle. Obviously, he'd been spending too much time with the Weasleys lately. He was starting to see everyone with red hair. Still, as he laid back against the tree once again, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something.

That night, Harry lay face down on his bed, with his Potions book laid out before him on his pillow. He didn't really think there was any way he'd made an O on his Potions O.W.L., but he figured he could always study hard and take his N.E.W.T. independantly if Snape wouldn't let him join the advanced class. Professor McGonagall had already promised to help him, and he could most likely get Hermione to tutor him if he needed more help. That thought had him repressing a shudder. He'd only do that as a last resort. Hermione was bright, exceptionally so, but it caused her to forget that not everyone was up to her level, this tended to make her teaching rather frustrating and exhausting.

Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly and pinched himself to try to stay awake as long as possible. It was past midnight, but he didn't want to have nightmares again, so he was trying to spend only a bare minimum of time sleeping. It was unhealthy, he knew, but Harry never was very good at staying healthy, and after Sirius, he'd do pretty much anything to avoid nightmares as much as possible.

He started examining the page his book was currently turned to again. He'd decided to look up dreamless sleep potions, and was engrossed in the theories and effects of the various types. Unfortunately, it seemed escape from his nightmares did not lie in this avenue. Apparently, dreamless sleep potions were rather like some muggle drugs, they tended to be addictive if used too often. He could use them once a week or so to avoid that, but that would cause his body to build up an eventual immunity to them.

He let out a sight of exasperation and slammed the book shut. He'd have to think of a different way. Even if he could get rid of some of the nightmares by blocking Voldemort somehow (though he still wasn't sure that Voldemort was even involved in that strange one the night before), he'd still have the normal nightmares coming from his subconcious, and those were bad enough.

In a desperate attempt to stay awake a little longer, Harry cast his eyes around the room, hoping the movement would keep them from drifting closed, as they had been attempting to do for the last half hour. His eyes fell on Hedwig's empty cage, causing a frown creased his features. Hedwig had not returned since he'd arrived back at Privet Drive, and he was beginning to worry.

As if in answer to his thoughts, an insistant tapping started at his window, and Harry grinned when he recognized his snowy owl hovering outside. He sprang out of bed to let her in, and untied the letters she offered him the second she stretched out her leg. Thankful for something to do, he stroked Hedwig affectionately and settled down at his desk to read.

Hedwig must've been at the Burrow, for the topmost letter was from none other than his best friend, Ron Weasley. He eagerly slit the envelope open and scanned the letter. What he read made him scowl. Ron was trying to get him to talk about the events of the Department of Mysteries. He angrily threw the letter into the corner of his room. He didn't want to talk. They didn't understand, nobody did, and there was nobody that ever would.

That thought made him stop. Wasn't there? The last time he'd felt like this, there had been a very angry voice reminding him that that wasn't true, that someone did know what he felt like.

A small smile came over him as he thought of her. Ginny. Ron's little sister. 'Not so little any more..' The thought made his smile grow larger. He had learned over the last year that Ginny was quite an interesting person. She had a very amusing and bright personality, but she also had a rather nasty temper when upset. He had learned that the hard way after last Christmas.

He looked back down at the bunch of letters on his desk. Sure enough, the next one was from Ginny. He slowly slit the envelope open, and leaned back in his chair to read.

Dear Harry,

How's life with the muggles? Not good I'm sure. Fred, George, and I have decided to help you with this and are preparing a "care" package for you. I'm sure you can guess what sort of things will be in this package. Don't worry, your relatives will simply love them.

Harry smiled broadly. Knowing the twins, "love" was a very long stretch for how the Dursleys would react. He considered her question for a moment. Truth be told, life with the Dursleys was rather awful at the moment. He fully expected his uncle to yell at him for what he'd told his aunt this morning, so he'd waited until after dinnertime to come home, and snuck into his room.

His stomach growled at the very thought. All he'd had to eat since the morning was a couple chocolate frogs. He couldn't avoid his relatives forever. He'd just have to face the music in the morning. He wasn't going to let them bully him though. Not a chance. He was going to let them know exactly how he felt, in no uncertain terms. With that pleasing thought, he returned to the letter.

Do you think you could do me a favor? Ron's being his usual overprotective self and giving me a hard time about Dean. Do you think you could tell Ron about how attractive Dean finds me or some such rubbish? I still can't believe he actually fell for the whole thing, so I'm going to try to annoy him with it as much as possible.

By this time, Harry had collapsed onto the floor and was trying desperately to hold back his laughter. It wouldn't do to wake the Dursleys. It took him nearly ten minutes, but he eventually did get enough of a handle on himself to start reading again.

I know that Ron and Hermione are going to be trying to get you to open up and talk about snuffles, so I just want you to know that I do to some extent understand what you're going through. After the Chamber incident, I felt incredibly guilty for not only almost getting you killed, but also almost getting all those students killed. I know that you aren't ready to talk yet, but I want you to know that if you ever are ready, I'm willing to listen.

Harry expected himself to be angered by this, but for some reason, he just couldn't be. She was right, she did understand, but she wasn't pushing him. She knew he wasn't ready, and he would only talk when he was.

He thought of what she said about the Chamber, and suddenly felt incredibly guilty. That must've been extremely hard for her to deal with on her own, and he hadn't even tried to help her, or for that matter, given her the time of day. He instantly resolved to be a better friend to her from that moment on.

That's all I have time for right now....Ron's giving me grief about writing to you. Honestly, you'd think he was your only friend or something.

Sincerely,

Ginny

Harry grabbed his writing implements to draft a reply. It looked like Ginny was his new penfriend, since Ron and Hermione were most likely going to be trying to get him to open up. Well, he wasn't going to open up that easy. He'd just ignore their letters until they worked that out. Except for a brief letter about Dean of course.

Dear Ginny,

I can't tell you how happy I was to receive your letter. Ron's put me in a bit of a foul mood, yet yours was quite a welcome relief.

I am eagerly awaiting the "package" to be sent by everyone's favorite pranksters (I take it you're now one of them?) as my family is being intolerably horrible, despite the Order's warnings. Please don't tell the Order this, I plan on making life miserable for them all on my own if they mess with me, and I have a few ideas on how to do so. Needless to say, anything you three send me will be a tremendous help in this endevour.

I will be happy to help with your Ron problem by the way, as I hate to see anyone trying to control someone else's life, as you may imagine. He is most defnitely getting out of hand, and needs to realize that you are neither a child, nor helpless, and should be free to make your own choices. Oh, and don't be so surprised he fell for it. You were quite convincing in the car, and the only reason I didn't believe you was because I overheard Dean telling Seamus he intended to ask out Melinda Warden (one of your roommates I believe?) next term.

Thank you so much for understanding, Ginny. I promise I shall talk when I am ready, and at this rate, I doubt I'll be telling Ron or Hermione anything for a long time. You're right, you do understand, and I promise we'll talk soon.

I feel the need to apologize. I have been incredibly selfish over the years. I failed to even notice what you were going through after the whole incident in the Chamber. I'm not sure I could've helped in any way (undoubtedly your family was much more helpful than I could've been), but I should've at the very least paid enough attention to know something was going on. Who knows? Perhaps my story of what happened may have given you some perspective on the whole business. In fact, how are you doing about all that? If you ever feel the need to talk about it, I am also happy to listen. I know it's been a long time, but I suppose I know better than most how long "scars" can linger.

I also feel I've been incredibly ignorant for not even noticing what a wonderful person you are, and I feel a sense of loss knowing that I could've had a good friend in you a long time ago, and perhaps even noticed earlier what was going on with the whole diary thing if I had been your friend. I hope you can forgive me for being as thick as Ron. Are we friends? If not, I would certainly like to get to know you better. I need all the friends I can get.

Tell Ron that he has no monopoly on writing to me, and to leave you alone or face the consequences. Maybe we can pull a joint prank on him or something if he doesn't.

Your Friend (I hope),

Harry

He signed it with a flourish and scanned back over his work. Yes, it would do. He sealed it in an envelope and set it off to the side. He'd send it in the morning.

That brought him to the last letter of the lot. He flipped it over and looked at the name. It was from Fred and George. This, naturally, made Harry extremely wary of opening it, since letters from the twins tended to have unpleasant consequences for those who opened them rashly.

Leaning as far away from the envelope as he could, he very carefully slit it open, and jumped back quickly.

Nothing happened.

Still cautious, Harry very slowly stepped back to his desk and gingerly pulled the letter out of the envelope. Still expecting some sort of trick, he unfolded it and read quickly. The twins had apparently been writing at the same time, as there were two different colored inks on the page, and the handwriting (though unnaturally similar) was slightly different for both of the colors.

To our esteemed investor,

You'll be pleased to know that business is simply booming! Apparently, our little stunts before we left last year have inspired dozens of aspiring pranksters to make Filch's life miserable next year, and we're already getting loads of customers in the new shop.

Yeah, and we've been putting a percentage of our profits into a Gringott's account for you.

I was just getting to that, Gred, no need to interrupt. Anyway, we won't take no for an answer on this. We don't take charity, and we consider you a silent partner.

Say, you wouldn't mind backing the company openly would you? Harry Potter as our backer would be good publicity....

Leave the man alone, Gred! You know he hates his fame, and besides, then Mum'd know he helped us, and we wouldn't wish that sort of torture on anyone.

Oh, right. Sorry Harry, my rather loud twin has a point, for once.

Why you little.....

Now now, Forge, we're writing to each other instead of Harry. Back to the letter.

I'll deal with you later. Now where was I Harry? Ah yes, the account. We'll send you the key for it with your "care package," which we're sure our darling sister has told you all about.

Ickle Gin-Gin is making us so proud. She's already being devious and helping us come up with brilliant ideas for the shop. It makes me want to burst into tears of joy.

Get a hold of yourself! That's all for now there Harrikins. We'll send that package sometime in the next week or so (we have one more product we want to finish "testing" before we give it to you to use)

Speaking of that, where's Ron?

He'll be down in a moment. So I guess we have to go now Harry, we have to "fix" Ron his dinner....

F&G

It took even longer for Harry to gain control of his laughter after this letter, and by the time he did, it was past two in the morning. Finding himself barely able to keep his eyes open, he went resignedly to bed, dreading the nightmares sure to come.

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review responses:

etcies: You were my first ever reviewer! Thank you so much! Can you tell me what it was that confused you? I don't want anyone else to have the same problem if I can fix it.....

mysticruby: Thanks! I'm a huge Harry/Ginny fan as well. In fact, I find I have a hard time reading fics that aren't H/G (and I can't read ones that contradict it at all)

lmill123: Thanks for your review! I agree, it is somewhat suspicious isn't it? Although, I just can't bring myself to believe that Dumbledore did it on purpose. I rather think that he has just become too confident in his own knowledge and power, and trusts Snape entirely too much.

That's all for now. Chapter three up by the weekend I hope!