My idea for the seventh book!
Chapter 1- Goodbye privit drive!
"Harry, Harry! Happy birthday!"
"Huh?"
Opening his eyes blearily, Harry Potter saw the bushy haired girl who had woken him, sitting on the edge of his bed holding a large neatly wrapped present. A tall, red haired, long nosed, freckled boy was standing next to her, also holding a large present, though it wasn't as neatly wrapped as the girl's one.
"Yeah, Harry!" the red haired boy, who was called Ron Weasley, grinned. "Happy Birthday! Now you can finally break out of this dump." Harry grinned back. He got up, stretched and then put on his glasses. He looked into the mirror on the wardrobe. An untidy black haired 17-year-old youth stared back at him, his glasses glinting in the rare sunlight pouring in through the open window.
On his forehead, was a curious lighting bolt shaped scar. He rubbed it unconsciously, then turned around and stared at his two best friends fondly. They had been his best friends from when he was eleven and had just started at Hogwarts, the school of witchcraft and wizardry. But now, seven years on, the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbledore, was dead and the wizarding world was in turmoil because the evilest wizard in history, who had vanished sixteen years ago, thanks to Harry's mother, Lily Evans, was alive again and had a body. Oh yes, he was back and eviler that ever before.
The former headmaster of Hogwarts had died at the hands of one person…and the very thought of this one person made Harry's insides boil with rage….Severus Snape, the former potions teacher. Harry had despised and loathed him, a favour Snape returned with venom. Now Harry didn't despise him or loathe him; he hated him so much he wanted to kill him.
"Harry…HARRY!"
Harry shook himself; he had been half asleep. Hermione, the bushy haired young woman, was glaring at him, looking very annoyed. "Yes, Hermione?" Harry answered innocently. "That's my name…don't wear it out…" Hermione folded her arms. "Oh ha ha," she retorted sarcastically and held out the present impatiently. "Open it." Harry took the present from her and unwrapped it. Inside, lay (big surprise) a book. On the cover it said:
Advanced Jinxes and defence. Harry flicked through it; looking at the moving illustrations and the wonderful new jinxes he hadn't even heard of. She was practical, Hermione, you could give her that…
"Mine next, mine next!" shouted Ron impatiently, as Pigwidgon, Ron's miniature but incredibly noisy owl flew round the room, hooting his approval.
Harry tore the wrapping paper off of Ron's present and saw it was a humungous box of butterbeer and a selection of Harry's favourite sweets, including chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes, plus a variety of sweets he'd never heard of before. "Mum told me to give you the sweets," Ron explained, his ears going red, as they always did when he was embarrassed. "She said you never get enough here." Harry grimaced as he remembered when he was twelve, when the Dursleys locked him in his bedroom and the only thing they gave him to eat was half-cold soup. "Well," muttered Harry darkly, trying to shake himself out of the unpleasant memory. He wished he had a pensieve like Dumbledore had had, he now understood what Dumbledore had meant when he said he used it when his mind was overcrowded with thoughts and memories. " She got that right."
He looked up at his friends, who were looking worried. Hastily he hitched a smile on his face, took out a bottle of butterbeer from the beer, and raised it. Ron and Hermione followed suit. "To freedom!" said Harry happily. "To getting out of this hellhole!"
"Hear, hear!" agreed Ron and Hermione, clashing their bottles together with Harry's. "Cheers!"
When Harry, Ron and Hermione finally entered the Dursley's spotless living room, they saw Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia stiffen at the table and Dudley peer nervously around the armchair he had been sitting in.
"Well, bye, then!" Harry said loudly. He saw the muscles tense in Uncle Vernon's neck
and took this as a warning. He addressed his aunt instead. "Bye Aunt Petunia!" he called.
She nudged Uncle Vernon and he grunted something incoherent. Aunt Petunia crossed her arms tiredly and finally said shortly: "Goodbye."
Harry turned his back and proceeded out of the living room. Dudley was watching Hermione with a strange, almost greedy look in his eyes. Harry saw the danger signals and hissed to Dudley: "Don't bother, big D. She's going out with Ron." Dudley went pink, as did Hermione. Harry marched on, and Ron and Hermione followed, as he strode out of number 4, privet drive, and left it forever.
Knock-knock!
"Who's there?" came Mrs Weasley's quivering voice, from inside the burrow's front door.
"Harry, Ron and Hermione."
"Ok, Harry, what is the shape of your patronus?"
"A stag."
"Oh, Harry!" The door was flung open and the next thing Harry knew, he was being pulled into a rib-cracking hug by Ron's mother, who then pushed him away so she could examine his appearance.
"Hmmm," she said studying him and then pursing her lips. "Those muggles never feed you enough, I've always said that. Look how tall you are! Why your nearly as tall as the beanstalk in our garden!"
Mrs Weasely let go of him and her expression became business like.
"Come on," she said, grinning broadly. "I bought you some new dress robes for Bill and Fleurs wedding." She bustled up the stairs and Harry, grinning also, followed.