Previously:

"That's the end of that chapter. Who wants to read next?"

As he expected, Hermione's hand shot straight up.

Smiling he handed over the slim book, watching as Hermione gently stroked the spine, before turning the page.

"Chapter Two – The Vanishing Glass…"

Now:

Hermione's voice was strong and sure as she began to read, as it always was when she was helping Harry and Ron with their homework.

'Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursley's front door; it crept into their living-room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed…'

"Are we going to see…"

"…your baby pictures, little brother?" Fred and George jested.

Harry made a rude gesture to the pair that made them laugh. Thankfully, it went unnoticed by Molly.

'…Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bobble hats…'

The twins squealed with laughter at the image of Harry's cousin but a sharp look from Hermione quickly silenced them, both knew that Hermione could be deadly when she wanted to be.

'… but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large, blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a roundabout at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother…'

"But what about Harry?" Ron cried.

"If you'd let me finish Ronald, I'm sure the book will explain."

Ron shrank back; the only people who called him Ronald were his mother and Hermione, and only when they were angry with him.

'…The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.'

At the last sentence Hermione stopped, looking at her friend who just shrugged and gestured for her to continue.

'Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long…'

"Well that sounds ominous…" Hermione muttered.

'…His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice which made the first noise of the day.

"Up! Get Up! Now!"

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" she screeched…'

"She hasn't changed at all…" Severus thought to himself, but he hoped she'd treated Harry well.

'Harry heard her walking towards the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. He rolled on to his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorbike in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before…"

"I told you I remembered things I shouldn't." Harry chuckled winking at his godfather. Sirius was stunned, his jaw flapping as Hermione read on.

'His aunt was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon…

"She made you cook?" Molly asked.

"Yea, since I was old enough to reach the cooker."

Molly wondered how old he would have been when Harry answered that very question.

"I think the first time I was around 5 she made me stand on a box to reach the hob. Cooking is a skill I've cultivated over the years but not without some hiccups along the way."

Harry carefully rolled up his sleeves baring his forearms, the slightly tan skin was littered with burn marks and cuts that no one had seen before.

"I was a little clumsy at first."

No one said anything. All were heartbroken that this young man had been forced to cook and injure himself from such a young age.

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat as she powered on.

'…And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

Harry groaned.

"What did you say-?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing…"

Dudley's birthday – how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on…'

"SPIDER?!" Ron yelled, looking a little pale.

Harry patted him on the arm.

"Only a little one, mate."

Ron shivered at the thought.

'Harry was used to spiders…'

Harry knew what was coming and braced himself for the reactions.

'… because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.'

The room was deathly silent.

Then, it exploded with noise.