Chapter 2

(I had to use the first book in this chapter to check things over,

and yes, Sophie and Harry are neighbors.)

It was around 9:30 P.M. when Harry arrived back at his apartment. It had been a long, emotional day, but he wasn't really tired yet. He wanted to read, he could almost imagine Hermione's shock. He could hear her voice inside his head, "You actually want to read?" as he nodded as if she had really asked him that question.

He changed into some pajamas and sat on his old bed, his apartment wasn't anything fancy. Harry wasn't one to flaunt and show off money that he had inherited, that he hadn't really earned. The walls were a deep blue; there wasn't a picture in the whole apartment, except the one that he had brought there, which he had placed on his bedside table.

Harry had been studying and working to become an auror, his dream for God knows how long now. At the moment he was without a job, he had attempted to step out of the limelight by only going outdoors for necessities. Even then he was bombarded with questions and the occasional person asking for an autograph.

The diary just sat there on the worn brown comforter unopened. As much as he wanted to open it and read the beautiful, curvy handwriting that was Sophie's, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Who knows what was written in there, what secrets she had kept from him. After staring at it for what seemed like an hour, he finally picked the diary up and gingerly loosened the strap and opened it again to the first page, displaying her name. He then turned to the second page, which he realized had not one, but two entries.

August 20

Dear Diary,

The strangest thing happened to me today; a person came to my house and claimed he was a wizard, which I thought was completely absurd. He told me that I, of all people, was a witch and that I had been accepted to a place called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I of course needed proof that this wasn't some prank that school kids were playing on me; kids are cruel beings as far as I'm concerned. So the strange man took out a polished stick about as long as a ruler, which must've been a wand, and muttered something that I didn't quite catch. I jumped when I saw my mother's prized vase lift off the mantle and across the room to me. "Go ahead, check for strings," he said with a smile on his face. I obeyed without question, running my hands all around the vase for about a minute. It wasn't a prank, not a string in sight.

"It's floating," I said, I must've sounded awfully stupid, "how?"

"Magic." He replied simply.

I hadn't even looked at my parents to see what they thought about all of this. They looked positively dumbfounded; I must've let out a small snicker because my father gave me a hard look.

"You mean to tell me that she," my father gestured to me, "is a witch?"

"Yes, I do believe that is the case Mr. Colburn."

"But, where is this school?"

"I can't actually tell you that, but it is a boarding school-"

"I'm not paying for a pointless boarding school." My father said interrupting the wizard who I hadn't yet asked his name.

"Oh, no, you don't pay tuition for Hogwarts, the only thing you even have to pay for are the books, robes, a wand of course, a cauldron, and other various things." My father and the wizard went on for what seemed like forever as I sat there biting my nails. I wish I didn't bit my nails so much, it truly is an awful habit to break, but sometimes you really can't help it. Anyway, I should tell you now that I get on tangents a lot, but back to the discussion. As I sat there, thinking about the fact that I was a witch, someone tapped my shoulder, I jumped for some reason, and I'm not usually a skittish person.

"I believe you'd like to read this." The wizard said handing me an envelope which read:

Ms. S. Colburn

The second bedroom

7 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

I looked up from the letter and to the wizard again, "I don't believe I've asked you your name." I said rather timidly.

"No need to be shy, my name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, but you can call me Professor Dumbledore."

I nodded wordlessly, that was possibly the strangest name I had ever heard in my life. Wait until I tell Harry about this. I stopped, Harry, what was I going to do? I couldn't go to boarding school and leave him here. I would be lost, he would be lost.

"I really should be going now. All the information you will need is in that letter that Ms. Colburn is holding." Dumbledore announced. "I trust you know where King's Cross station is."

I just nodded again; we'd been there a few times before.

After Dumbledore left, we all just sat there, my sister, Carmen glared at me as if I was dirt. She hated me, no questions about it. This probably confirmed my freak status in her harsh brown eyes. We looked absolutely nothing alike, she had straight, thin, brown hair, a rather large nose, and of course those brown eyes full or hatred and resentment toward me, her youngest and only sister. "Uhm. I need to go talk to Harry." I said standing up fast and heading toward the door. I was relieved to walk outside, away from the gawking. I inhaled the wonderful aromas coming from the garden that I had to help with while Carmen stayed inside filing her nails and talking excitedly about the 'gorgeous senior boys' with her friends. She was after all, a popular teenage girl. After a minute or so I arrived at Number Four Privet Drive and gently knocked on the door. No answer, so I knocked again. Still no answer. I then noticed there wasn't a car in the driveway, and now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen Harry in a few days. Had the Dursleys actually taken him on Vacation with them? Surely not. There had to be an explanation, but what? "Mrs. Figg!" I said aloud, not actually realizing it at the time, that is until a middle age man walking past gave me a questioning glance. I shrugged it off and made my way to Old Mrs. Figg's house. I'd never actually gone inside, but Harry has told me it smelled like cats and cooked cabbage, not the most pleasant of smells in my opinion. I reached what I knew to be the Mrs. Figg's door, only from Harry showing it to me when I asked about it. I admit that, I am shy. Going up to a person's house that I had never met before wasn't on my list of things I wanted to do with my time. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door just loud enough so she could hear. After about a minute of waiting, I leaned in to knock again when the door opened.

"Can I help you?" the woman that was most likely Mrs. Figg asked.

I nodded, "Yes, uhm.. Is Harry Potter staying here? The Dursleys seem to have left for a few days and I can't remember a time when they actually took Harry with them." I said all in one breath.

Mrs. Figg frowned slightly as if in thought, "No, he's not with me. I'm sorry I don't know where he could be. Are you certain he's not there?"

I nodded again, "Almost positive, I knocked on the door for about ten minutes. Nothing."

"Well, I'm sorry miss, but I haven't the slightest idea where else he would go, he must be with the Dursleys then."

I smiled slightly, "Thank you."

I sighed and walked back toward my house, taking much longer than usual. Where was Harry? Why didn't he tell me he was leaving? None of it made any sense. And my final question, what in the world was going on in my life?

Harry read the last line and yawned, he had been reading slowly. He looked over to the clock on his wall, it read 12:37. It was past midnight and he hadn't even noticed. Harry closed the diary and tightened the strap around it. He lifted up the covers on his bed and lied down hugging the diary close. His eyes shut and he was asleep within minutes.