Orphan Ashley: Okay, this chapter is mine, because Awsomely Unperfect has writer's block, mwahaha! :)

I'm really glad I get to write with my best friend/cousin.

Harry sat down on the end of his trunk, gently petting the top of the empty metal cage that had held his beloved best friend, someone he had known long before Ron and Hermione. Hedwig hadn't come home (Harry snorted quietly at the thought of that word) in a few days, and he was geniunly worried about his snowy white best friend, even though she had done this a thousand times.

He sighed, getting up and streching, before he pulled out a few peices of parchment and began to write short letters to each one of his friends. They were not original; contaning 'I'm fine's' and 'Hope your having fun'. He did two of these short letters before he dedited to write Hagrid, to show him that he hadn't fallen off the planet.

A soft woosh at Harry's window made him look up, and a regal looking owl stared at him with her large, attentive yellow eyes perred at him with such grace, that he couldn't even bring himself to scold her for being gone and worrying him. Hary sighed, and reached over to grap the bundle of letters off her long leg, and she held it out to him. The letters he had recived from his two best friends contained pictures and long letters that mostly resembled diary enteries.

Harry winced gently, and added a few new things to Ron and Hermione's letters. Hermione, along with her muggle dentist parents, had gone to New York for a vacation, and Hermione had saw some stange American man that wore a cowboy hat and only wore underwear. Ron, on the other hand, had stayed at home, and had been on his broom for almost a week, trying to break Maryfeild Gobeer's record of thrity-six days. He laughed, and then sighed again, unhappily.

There was no way he was going to disclose the information he had found out about himself through letters, seeing as though owls could easily be intercepted, and he was in no condition to have people know that it was not infact Harry, but someone he didn't know. His hair had become a shocking shade of bronze, though he still had Lilly's amazing green eyes. It wasn't a bad combination, even though he was still used to his raven shade, and everytime he had looked or passed by a mirror, he had jumped a few feet.

And, even though he wasn't at the Dursley's anymore, and he had taken a room at the Three Broomsticks, he still felt horrible, like he had been beaten up, and left bruised and bleeding. Like he didn't really know who he was. Could Harry trust his mother, even though she had cheated on James? Could he even believe what had happned?

In a moment of anger, Harry's hand made contact to the large lamp on his bedside table, and he struck it. It landed on the floor with a crash, and he groaned and pointed his wand to the jumbled mess of broken glass and wires. It was fixed, and back on his desk before he could blink. His hand went to his stomach when it growled loudly, and he mumbled to it as he got up to go down the hickory-oak stairs.

The dining room was packed, but a tiny figure with long, white blonde hair took his attention in a second, slurping up a thick green stew. He walked towards her, his long legs making long strides towards the tin blue clad figure.

"Hello Luna," he greeted her, running a hand through his tick bronze hair, and jamming the other in his pocket.

Hope you liked this one!!