Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his magical world, his friends and enemies and locations mentioned belong to the one and only J.K. Rowling. I own only the made-up characters.

Uploaded: January 6, 2005

Chapter One: An Unbearable Summer

Harry Potter, at seventeen years of age, was still having nightmares. They weren't the average once-in-a-while nightmares, these were every night, and they had gotten worse since the end of sixth year. Night after night, they were the same. He had to battle Voldemort, face to face and he always ended up losing. Voldemort would kill him in the end. He always woke up in cold sweat, panting like he had just run a 10 K marathon. He always looked around, as if searching for someone who wasin the room, who shouldn't be. Harry never found anyone.

Harry turned over and tried to go back to sleep. But when he closed his eyes, he saw the cold face of Voldemort and his scar seared. He fidgeted in bed, turning this way and that, trying to get comfortable. After a couple of minutes, Harry decided that he couldn't sleep, so he rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans, the fly of which was held closed with a safety pin and which fit only with a belt on. He struggled into one of Dudley's old and considerably large t-shirts. (The only clothes he had were hand-me downs of Dudley's) He crept downstairs, skipping the step that creaked, and slipped out into the cool air. It was almost dawn, from the look of the rising sun. He would have to be back in about an hour. Harry briefly wondered what it would be like to have someone worry about him, not that the Dursleys ever would.

Exactly and hour later, Harry slipped into the kitchen just as he heard Uncle Vernon stomping down the stairs.

"Good morning, Uncle Vernon," Harry said as his uncle entered the kitchen.

"Urgghhh," Uncle Vernon answered.

Aunt Petunia breezed into the kitchen and bustled around making breakfast, all the while barking orders at Harry.

"You will wash these dishes, all of the clothes in the laundry room-by hand- and clean the house until it sparkles," she growled.

"Yes ma'am," Harry mumbled sullenly.

"I'm starving," Dudley complained as he thudded into the kitchen, just as heavily as his father. Dudley plopped his over sized backside into a chair, and Aunt Petunia heaved a big helping of eggs, grits and sausages onto their plates, for all except Harry. Harry was always given a smaller helping and he was always served last. He never dared say anything, for the Dursleys never ceased to remind him that he was an orphan, living off of their goodness.

After is chores were done, Harry wandered around the neighbourhood.

"Hey Potter, did you do all the chores the old lady told you to do?" came a taunt from behind. Sure enough, there was Dudley and his newest gang members.

"Hey Duddikins, tell me, why is it that you call Aunt Petunia 'the old lady', but you call her 'Mummy' at home?" Harry asked coolly. The gang chuckled at the remark until Dudley gave them a silencing glare.

"Potter, why don't you go home? Oh, that's right, you don't have a home!" Dudley said as he and his gang stalked off, probably to torment some poor, helpless five year old. Harry shook his head and went on his way; he had more important business to tend to.

Mrs. Arabella Figg opened the door to find young Harry Potter standing at he doorstep. She wasn't surprised. The poor dear needed a friend during the summer, even if it was just a partially senile old lady who smelled like cats.

"Hello Harry dear, come in, come in,"

"Hi Mrs. Figg," Harry walked into the living room and quickly counted the number of cats. Fifteen. That's two more than last time, Harry thought.

"Anything you wish to talk about?" Mrs. Figg set about the makings of tea.

"Well, I was wondering if any post came for me." For fear of owls being intercepted, members of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry, Ron and Hermione had taken to using muggle-post. Harry had asked anyone who wished to contact him to send all letters to 5 Privet Drive, Mrs. Figg's house.

"Come to think of it, yes, there were some letters. Now, where did I put them? Ah! Here they are." Mrs. Figg pulled two letters out of a pile of mouldy-looking files.

"Thanks!" Harry was out the door and in his aunt and uncle's house in less than a minute. In his room, Harry started to read. The first was from Hermione, the second from Ron.

Hello Harry,

How are you? I'm fine. I am at the Weasley's right now. How has your summer been? Ours has been alright. Before I came here, Mum and Dad took me to America. It was very "cool" as they say. We have been getting some news of Voldemort. He's been torturing some muggles and there have been a few deaths. I'm kind of scared and worried about my parents but enough said about that. We'll tell you more when we see you.

With love,

Hermione

Harry grew cold at the sight of the word 'killing'. He refolded Hermione's letter and put it in the envelope. He opened Ron's and eagerly skimmed the page.

Hey Mate,

How are those Muggles treating you? Hermione's at the Burrow with us and Mum said to ask you if you want to come and stay until school. Send a reply A.S.A.P. See you soon.

Ron

P.S. Mum and Ginny send their love.

Harry scrambled to his desk and got out some parchment, a quill and some ink. He scribbled a quick reply. He was going to the Burrow.

Thanks to Natasha and Danielle from Loretto Abbey, my home school, for getting me into FanFic. Luv ya both.

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meliss