Hey all. Thanks to those who reviewed/favourited/alerted! Second chapter is done (I've read over it but it's late and I'm half asleep so please tell me if I've missed anything!) and the third, fourth and fifth are on their way. I don't particularly like the ending of this chapter, but I couldn't think of anything else. And it needs to flow on to the next chapter, which means it has to end like this.

Again, this chapter had been beta'd by the amazing SomeLover. :D

Anyway, enjoy! And please review. I do like to know what I'm doing right, or even wrong.

Harry didn't bother with ringing Mrs Figg straight away, despite having told his Uncle that he would. With the Dursleys gone, the first thing he did was dash upstairs to his Aunt and Uncle's had locked Harry's trunk in the cupboard under the stairs as soon as they returned home yesterday but he'd forgotten to distract Harry while he went and hid the key.

The Dursleys' bedroom was relatively neat, a few casualties of last minute packing lying around, and it was themed much like the rest of the house - homey, fashionable and with just a hint of that up-market snobbishness coming through in the expensive carpet and upholstery. Even the beige bedspread and pillowcases were chosen for how expensive they looked; tassels dangled from the end of the bed and the four corners of each pillow, matching the cord holding the heavy brocade curtains back to let the sunlight in.

Small pictures set in elaborate frames sat on the mahogany dresser and it was toward them that Harry headed. He'd seen Vernon rooting around the photos yesterday, but he'd been unable to see exactly where his uncle had hidden the key. Vernon's bulk did a good job of hiding his hands from sight.

Harry was careful as he searched through the various nicknacks scattered between the frames to leave everything exactly where it was, or as close as he could get after inspecting it. His Aunt and Uncle's room was the one place where he wasn't allowed, though he had even been into Dudley's room occasionally when he had to clean it or fetch something from there. If the Dursleys came back and noticed something was out of place he'd cop the worst hiding of his life and he really would like to avoid that if possible.

A small bauble shifted - a snow globe, perhaps, but without the liquid and glitter - and the slight sound of metal clicking on metal met Harry's ears. He froze for a moment, surprised and still on edge in case the Dursleys came back unexpectedly, then cheered. With a gleeful smile Harry swooped on the small key that had been revealed.

The key was old and rusty, and slightly worn around the edges. Vernon had had to wrestle with the door for a minute before it would shut yesterday, Harry receiving a dirty look for that even though it wasn't his fault. Not consciously anyway.

Harry cradled the key in one hand as he dashed down the stairs, terrified of losing it. Not only would he be unable to access his school things but Vernon would notice the missing key and know what Harry had done.

Skidding around the bottom step, Harry slid to a stop in front of the cupboard door. He stood there panting for a moment then gently, carefully and with hidden excitement pushed the key into the lock and turned it.

The door creaked as it drifted open an inch, light spilling into the darkness to highlight a sliver of wood, and then Harry was yanking the door open and grinning madly at the sight of his trunk.

Dragging the trunk up the stairs to his room was quickly decided against. At only twelve years old Harry was far too small for such a feat, so instead he sat down and started removing things from it.

His wand came out first, reverently lifted from where it had been wrapped in one of his school robes. Although it had only been gone from his person for one day, the sense of relief Harry felt from having it back was almost overwhelming. He stroked the knobbly wood, memorising the feel of it, thankful for it in a way he hadn't been in a long time. The magic that flowed through his body and the wand hummed in pleasure, and Harry sighed. Magic was so amazing.

Next to be dug out of the trunk were his writing equipment and school books from both his first and second years. He had homework that needed to be done, preferably before the Dursleys returned, and there were a few things that he wouldn't mind looking up again: spells that he'd had problems with, theories he hadn't understood and potions that had just gone completely wrong for some unknown reason. Hermione would be proud.

After much consideration, Harry also removed the Invisibility Cloak and photo album. Everything else could be replaced, but if Uncle Vernon someday decided to destroy his trunk in a fit of anger, Harry would much rather have those two things somewhere safe. They were, after all, all that he had left of his parents and you never knew when the Cloak would come in handy.

Wand in his pocket and books, parchment, quills, Cloak and album piled high in his arms, Harry carefully picked his way around the entry, up the stairs and into his bedroom, dumping his armload on the small desk. A startled hoot from Hedwig's cage made Harry jump, the owl staring balefully at him.

"Sorry girl." Harry flicked the cage's door open, holding out his hand for her to perch on. Hedwig jumped from the doorway to his arm, clawing her way up his arm until she reached his shoulder. There, she buried her beak in his hair, her grooming of him interspersed with quiet hoots.

Harry laughed at Hedwig's mothering and ran a gentle hand over her feathers, returning the favour, before turning back to his stack of books. He had two weeks in which to devour what he could as after that any kind of studying would have to be done in the dead of night and he knew from experience how annoying that could be. First on the agenda was to make a list of everything he had to do (homework, mainly, though some chores as well), what he probably should do (rereading those few things that he hadn't understood last year, unfortunately) and what he wanted to do (such as looking up that jinx Quirrel had mentioned in first year, or the charm Flitwick had breezed past a few weeks ago..).

Hedwig jumped from his shoulder when he moved to sit down, wings spread the slightest so she could glide down to the desk's surface. She began to preen her wings as Harry grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, starting his to do list with his chores.

Weed the garden

Clean the kitchen, hall and lounge room

Dust the fireplace's mantle...

An hour and twenty something entries later Harry was busy staring blankly at the wall. He'd gotten to 'Write to Ron and Hermione' before his mind had drifted off, reminiscing over the school year and wishing he wouldn't be separated from his friends for so long. Many a time he had considered owling someone and asking to stay over for the duration of the holidays, despite knowing that the Weasleys needed time with Ginny, but he knew none of them would agree. Not for the whole holidays at least. Dumbledore had sent him back to his family, presumably for a good reason, and he didn't think anyone of his friends would want to go against Dumbledore's wishes.

Dumbledore. Harry had been trying to not think about the Headmaster because that train of thought inevitably lead him to remembering their discussion at the end of last year. Riddle's words down the in Chamber of Secrets still haunted Harry, but so did Dumbledore's. It was true that there were certain similarities between Tom Riddle and he which could not be ignored, but now Harry was left wondering just how many of those similarities were because of something he had chosen. Or someone else - his parents, for example - had chosen. Dumbledore, Voldemort, the Ministry - the list went on. Harry liked the idea of being able to control his own life so the possibility that his control was only partial - that most of his life was being controlled by someone else - was frightening. He was both curious and yet afraid of the answer, and that just added to his annoyance with the situation. Hence why he was trying to forget the whole thing. Maybe it would go away if he ignored it long enough.

A sharp pain in his hand made him shout and reflexively loosen his grip. His eyes flickered downwards and Harry glared at Hedwig, slightly confused. Hedwig just gave an admonishing hoot and kicked out with one foot, indicating the quill Harry had dropped. A quill which was now looking rather crushed, though the stem of the feather hadn't snapped. Smiling wryly Harry gently picked up the quill and set to straightening the fluffy strands of the feather, Hedwig watching closely as if to appraise his work.

"That good, girl?" Finished, Harry held the quill out for Hedwig to inspect. She stared at it, glanced up at him, then turned her head away with a soft, derisive sound. "Not quite?" Harry asked, chuckling. He set the feather down and reached for Hedwig, running a hand over her feathery head instead. "It's lucky there's no one else here or they'd think I was going spare, talking to you like this. But you're smarter than everyone thinks, aren't you. You know what I'm saying."

Hedwig didn't move for a moment, silent, but then her head turned slightly, leaning in to Harry's hand. Forgiven, Harry smiled wistfully at Hedwig. "I'm lucky you're here with me, or else I'd be all alone." Fingers still carding through the soft feathers, Harry turned to stare out the window to watch the freely drifting clouds go by.

"Do you think we'll be lonely these holidays, Hedwig?"

Head swiveling quickly, Hedwig regarded him with a curious stare. Harry just stared back, using his free hand to prop his head up. "I mean, it's great that the Dursleys are gone but it also means that I won't really see any other people for two weeks unless I can think of somewhere to go or something to do. Even if I did, I feel so... different here, so out of place, that I'm not sure I'd ever fit in anywhere. The muggle world is completely different to ours after all.

There was silence for a minute, then two as they stared at each other but then Harry sighed. "It would be nice to have someone to talk to."

Hedwig continued to stare at him even when Harry's gaze slipped back to watching the sky. Time passed, Harry's fingers unconsciously continuing their petting, then, suddenly, Hedwig pulled back, surging forward a moment later to jump onto Harry's hand and claw her way up his arm again. Startled and cringing slightly at the unexpected pain, slight as it was, Harry tried to crane his neck to stare at his owl. "Hedwig? What-"

Harry was cut off by a soft hoot and an affectionate nip to his ear. Then, with a powerful stroke of her wings, Hedwig was soaring across his room and out the window.

Blinking incredulously, Harry kept staring after her for a minute. Then, with a sigh and several lazy movements, Harry crossed his arms on his desk and dropped his head to rest on them, eyes falling on the pile of homework just waiting to be done.

"Great. Now I'm even more alone."