Warning for language and other shite...

July: 2012

Harry Potter did not enjoy his life.

He was an orphan, which is already a bad start to life, his remaining family, if you could call it that, hated him. He had more nemeses than could be counted, one of which certainly wanted him dead. There were a few upside to this abundance of enemies, however, a group of truly good friends, as well as magic actually being real...

Harry was able to seek respite from his inhospitable family in his school, which was a year long boarding school, named Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. The only time had to endure his family was during the summer months, during which he had very little freedom. His aunt and uncle had a fanatical obsession with being perceived as normal by other people. Harry did not understand this, but to a degree he respected it, everyone has their quirks.

Unfortunately, his family did not return his respect. Harry had learned very early on, that you don't ask abnormal questions in the Dursley household. There was no discussion of his parents, he was not permitted to query the fairness of his situation, as well as a great many other, supposedly taboo things.

Harry had just finished his second year at school, during which a giant snake had attempted to kill him to death, all normal then... His uncle Vernon was picking him up from king's cross train station, with barely a word exchanged between them, Harry entered the car. The first five minutes of the car ride was dead silent, uncomfortably silent. Harry had decided to stare, from the back seat of the car, directly into Vernon's eyes through the car's mirror. Growing increasingly uncomfortable, Vernon made the choice of turning on the radio to ease the tension, the truly artful sound that came from the radio caused Harry to break his gaze. The complex rising and falling of an electronic guitar pierced his ear drums and brought an unfathomable feeling of emotion to him. It was, quite literally, music to his ears.

And then it was gone, Vernon was muttering to himself "bloody racket" and Harry was left in a pit of despair, not comprehending what he had just experienced.

When they arrived at the Dursley's household, Harry had every intention of going up to his room and pondering his situation, however there were other plans in motion. "Harry!" His aunt, Petunia exclaimed in a stern voice, "in three weeks your aunt Marge is coming, you will be keeping your business" she emphasised "less than to yourself."

Marge was not Harry's aunt, she was the sister of Vernon, but this did not mean that he was excused from bestowing the title upon her. It also, for some reason, meant that her dog, Ripper, was allowed to, well, Rip him… Harry was only ever able to run away from the savage beast, often being jeered, and called a coward, and more recently, when his cousin Dudley discovered the word, a Pussy.

Harry proceeded up the stairs to his room, however at the top of the stairs, blocking his way, was Dudley. In his hands was some kind of electric device, Harry didn't recognize it, however, his last two years away from the Muggle world had left him a bit out of the loop with regards to technology. "Bet you're dead jealous of me Potter," exclaimed Dudley in a subtly mocking way. "And why would I be jealous of you Dudley?" Harry responded, waiting for him to move. "Cos I've got a phone, and you haven't" Dudley said, not so subtly twirling his new mobile phone in his hands.

Harry sighed, so it was a phone, but it seemed a bit expensive for its task, nothing but the best for Dudley, Harry thought. "Perhaps I would be jealous, if I cared, but I don't so I'm not. Please move." To Harry's surprise, his cousin stepped out of the way, glaring at him, it became clear that he was up to something.

The next week passed by rather quickly, he had started corresponding with his two best friends, Hermione and Ron, the former of which had sent him a spare radio she had after he explained his musical moment in the car. Harry had been listening to the radio no stop since receiving it, switching between stations, really feeling out the different genres of music. It was in his second week at the Dursleys, in which Harry decided that he wanted to do this. He wanted to be this, just like magic, music was an art, and he wanted to be an artist. There, of course, were a few problems, namely the Dursleys, his lack of a guitar, his lack of music knowledge and his lack of other musicians to play with. Not to mention that Marge was arriving in three days, and he was not at all prepared for that bullshit.

After more correspondence with his friends Ron and Hermione, he learned that they also had some interest in music. Hermione, ever the intellectual, had learned to play the piano, violin, cello and several wind instruments, and Ron had wanted to play something for a while now. It was something of a wonder that they had never talked about it. For the first time since he departed with his friends before the summer, he was happy.

This euphoria was destroyed when Aunt Marge arrived, wherever she went she brought misery. The rain splattered on the window of the front door, as the faint sound of a car door was heard, it was the ominous signal that the devil herself was approaching. Harry had been made to stand next to the door soon after his uncle left to pick up Marge from the train station, it had been over an hour ago. There was a vicious knocking at the door, and Harry promptly opened it to see the snarling expression Marge made when she saw him. "Took your bloody time didn't you boy!" she rudely exclaimed.

Harry could only answer with a meek "Sorry Aunt Marge" but apparently it wasn't good enough for her.

"agh, get out of the way, stupid child."

This attitude continued for the next two days, but that was the least of Harry's problems. He had enough time to prepare for Marge taking his room, however it wasn't ideal, on account of him being a wizard and all. There had been numerous threats to his health if his secret was revealed to Marge, however Harry wasn't concerned about this secret, he had many others that he guarded with more vigilance.

On the third evening of Marge's stay, things were progressing as usual, she was verbally assaulting Harry, he was silently washing dishes. He didn't care, her opinion about him was insignificant, Marge's droning bored him, but that was but a minor inconvenience. However when she switched the target of her vile words from Harry, to his mother, that was the final straw.

"Petunia, Vernon, you mustn't blame yourselves, he's a bad egg" she said while shoving a rather large piece of omelette into her mouth "It's all to do with the mother you see, you see it in dogs all the time, if there's something wrong with the BITCH, then there's something wrong with the pup."

Harry couldn't stand it, he had to say something. "SHUT UP!" he shouted, truly angry for the first time in a while. The room was dead silent.

"What did you just say to me BOY?" They asked in an over dramatic way. She pointed her stubby finger at Harry "Let me tell you -" she was cut off by her attention being drawn to that same finger, which was beginning to swell…

It was a strange and awkward sight, even for Harry, who was literally a wizard. After about ten seconds of incomprehension from Marge, she began to panic. This only seemed to make things worse for her, as she stood up from the dinner table, her waist began to swell as well. It soon became apparent to Harry that swelling was the wrong word, inflating was the more accurate one, because at a certain point, her now massive body began to float.

By this point, even the furniture was beginning to panic, Petunia and Vernon were jumping around trying to grab at Marge's clothes, but only succeeded in pushing her out of the open back door. Marge was screaming as if she was at an asylum, her dog was shagging Dudley's leg, and Harry was thinking that he should start packing his trunk. So he did, after sprinting at full speed up the stairs he ripped his trunk from underneath the bed that Marge had been crushing for the past two nights. All of his school things were locked in it anyway so he didn't need to pack them. All he needed was Hedwig's cage, and some more clothes.

Harry made his way down the stairs, he was furious, how could he have let this happen. His exit was halted however, when Vernon Dursley confronted him at the bottom of the stairs. "YOU BRING HER BACK, YOU BRING HER BACK THIS INSTANT!"

"No! She deserved what she got," Harry said, deadly seriously, pointing his wand and his uncle.

"You've nowhere to go now boy!"

Harry pressed the wand to the man's neck "anywhere's better than here," he said, with an air of finality to it.

As Harry walked down the street, still fuming, he saw a large balloon above the houses, the balloon was screaming bloody murder…

He walked for about fifteen minutes, before he calmed down, and realised the shit storm he was in. He couldn't go back to the Dursleys, and he had just broken two different laws that can get you expelled from Hogwarts, he was in trouble.

Considering his options Harry deliberated with himself, he couldn't go to Ron's, for one, he didn't actually know where it was or how to get there, and two, he was currently on holiday in Egypt, it would have to be Hermione's, but he didn't know how to get there either.

Suddenly, Harry felt a presence, as if he was being watched, he turned around with his wand at the ready. Looking frantically around for an enemy, Harry almost became disoriented, however he saw it. A massive black dog, in the bushes on the other side of the street. It wasn't doing anything, just staring at him, menacingly, it almost looked ready to sprint out at Harry and kill him, so he raised his wand to face the creature. Out of nowhere, a colossal triple decker bus shot out before Harry, placing itself between Harry and the dog. Harry fell back in shock and the conductor, without looking up from his notes began a speech. "Welcome to the night bus, emergency transportation for the stranded witch or wizard, my name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor for this evening." He looked down at Harry, "choo doin down there?" He asked.

"I fell over…"

"Well whatcha fell over for?"

"I didn't do it on purpose," Harry began looking for the dog on the other side of the bus. There was a slight pause.

"Choo lookin at?" Shunpike asked.

"Nothing," Harry replied and went to pick up his trunk.

"Nah, nah, nah, I'll get this you get in." Shunpike ordered. Harry made his way into the fantastical bus, but was ushered to the front by Stan. "Chor name kid?" Harry had to think quickly, it wouldn't do to advertise the fact that he was who he was "Neville Longbottom" Harry said.

"Aight mister Longbottom, ere's your ticket, where you off to?"

"Err, the leaky cauldron, that's in London." He said

"Ey, ear that Ern, the leaky cauldron that's in London," he chuckled to himself, "take it away Ern."

Another voice chimed in "yeah, take it away, it's going to be a bumpy ride!"

And a bumpy ride it was, Harry almost vomited several times, but that was the least of his worries. When they arrived at the leaky cauldron, there was a man waiting for them, Harry recognised him as the minister for magic.

After the minister revealed to Stan that Harry was not Neville, he took him inside. Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach, for more reasons than one, though he didn't know it. He did, however know that he was in trouble, this might be it, the moment they snap his wand in half and tell him to go back to the Dursleys.

"Harry, Harry, Harry, I am glad to inform you that your uncles sister was found lodged in a chimney stack in greater Manchester, she has been properly punctured and her memory has been modified, so that's that..." the minister said in an almost jovial tone.

Harry was shocked "but sir, am I not in trouble? I mean, I broke the law, underage wizards aren't allowed to use magic outside of school, much less in front of muggles."

"come now Harry, it was an accident, we don't send people to Askaban for blowing up their aunts." there was a long pause, almost as if the minister was waiting for laughter and applause. "however, running away like that, was very, very irresponsible of you, we have a killer on the loose."

"Sirius Black you mean?" Harry queried, he had spoken briefly about him with Stan, the bus conductor "but what's he got to do with me?"

A panicked expression came of over the minister for just a moment "oh nothing, nothing, you're safe now, and that's what matters, you're going to stay here in the inn for the rest of the summer, but considering the circumstances, it would be best if you didn't wonder past Diagon Alley."

Harry was left perplexed by the strange encounter, shouldn't he be in trouble, should he be worried about Sirius Black? Only time would tell...