At first glance, the town of Little Whinging was perfectly ordinary, just like any other in England. And for the most part, it was.

Except for one house.

That house, located at Number 4, Privet Drive, was home to a boy and a girl who were very, very extraordinary.

There were a few things that made Harry and Hazel Potter extraordinary. The most obvious was that they were a wizard and a witch, respectively. For another, they were desperately counting down the days until the holidays were over, and they could get back to school.

Hazel lay in bed and carefully turned the page of her book. It was quite late now, and her eyes were tired from so much reading. Just this last part, then she'd put it down. Then again, she'd said the same the night before. And the night before. No, this time she'd be good.

She rubbed her eyes and found her place in the book, Covens of Britain: A history of village witchcraft by Hubert Barnby and started reading again

'The coven of Fordwich were confronted by a unique problem in the summer of 1706. A witch in the village, by the name of Patience Fairbanks, attempted to cast a simple charm to fill her bucket with water. Unfortunately, she sneezed mid-incantation and instead turned the centre of her village to ice. Muggle law keepers were summoned at once but had difficulty in reaching the scene, and standing up, due to the slipperiness of the ground. Indeed, they required Miss Fairbanks assistance as she alone had appropriate footwear and so she was able to poke them to safety with her broom. Once able to stand again, a quick-thinking Miss Fairbanks explained the phenomenon away as a freak weather incident. The muggles accepted this explanation and left. This might have been down to the charm and wit of Miss Fairbanks but was most likely due to the many bruises and aches they had suffered, and Miss Fairbank's offer of a trip to the local pub. Fortunately, the ice had melted by November just in time for it freeze over again naturally.'

She closed the book and tucked her long, red hair behind her ear. It was such an interesting read, but she was going to have a problem very soon. She had only gotten it a few weeks ago and yet she was nearly done! Oh well, she would find something else to read.

The book had been a present from her best friend, Ginny Weasley. That was another thing that made Hazel quite unusual. Her birthday was never an interesting occasion. It had come and gone at the start of the school holidays like usual and she'd gone from eleven to twelve without much notice from the Dursleys. Harry had celebrated of course, and this year had been better than usual. She had actually gotten birthday cards! One each from the Weasleys, Colin and Hagrid. They were now carefully hidden in the loose floorboard beneath Harry's bed of course, because she didn't trust Aunt Petunia not to throw them in the bin when she was cleaning up.

She had also received a cake, baked by Hagrid himself. It was a lovely thought, and it had tasted wonderful, once it had softened a bit in the sun. He'd made Harry one for his birthday as well and the remains of both cakes were also under the floorboard in case they fancied a midnight snack. It was certainly easier than sneaking down to the kitchen.

She placed her book back into her trunk, which lay open at the end of her bed. It was quite amazing that Uncle Vernon had allowed the Potters to keep their trunks, rather than locking them under the stairs like he had last year. He had looked rather pained when he allowed it, perhaps thinking of the conversation he'd had with Mrs Weasley, Ginny's mum, at the end of the last year. She wasn't going to complain. She had all her books to read whenever she wanted, and she had been able to do her homework.

Speaking of which…

Harry was lying on his bed, tongue between his teeth as he read one of his schoolbooks. A length of parchment lay in front of him, and he kept tapping it with his quill. He looked rather annoyed.

"Having fun?" She asked in a low voice. Uncle Vernon's rasping, deafening snores could be heard even from the other side of the house, but she still wasn't going to risk waking him up. Not unless she fancied a sore ear for the rest of the night.

Harry looked up at her through his round, slightly wonky glasses and scowled, "I hate Snape."

"Do you? You've never mentioned it before?"

He shook his head. Obviously not in a joking mood, "It's this essay. A whole roll of parchment on shrinking solutions. Why did he have to give us so much homework? It's the summer!"

"Dumbledore explained this at the end of last year," They'd had this conversation at least twice a week for the last two months, "We didn't do exams at the end of last year, so we need to catch up."

"But that's not our fault."

"Just be glad we have a school to go back to."

"That was our fault," That was true. Hogwarts had been on the edge of closing forever, until Harry and Hazel had found the Chamber of Secrets. Well, Harry found it. She was knocked unconscious and dragged there. Didn't sound as cool though, "And I've not had time to do it."

That was because he'd been spending all his time with his birthday present from Hermione, a broom-servicing kit. No point annoying him about it now though.

"Would you like a hand?" She asked with a theatrical sigh. This was always going to happen. Potions was easily Harry's worst subject, and easily her best.

"Yes, please!"

"How far have you got?"

"First paragraph?"

"Harry…"

"It's really boring! Even by potions standards."

"Potions is not boring!"

"It is!"

A snort shut them both up. Had they woken Uncle Vernon? The silence dragged out for several long seconds.

No, more snoring. That was close.

"Alright," She crossed over and sat on the bed side him. He'd definitely grown a couple of inches over the summer, there was no way he'd been this tall before, "Let's get through this."

In fairness to Harry, it was a very difficult essay. Describe the disadvantages of the shrinking solution and why alternatives are preferrable? The potions book was great at selling its concoctions, but a bit reluctant to give any reasons you wouldn't use it. Hazel bit her lip as she read the section again.

"Well?" Harry asked, hopefully.

"I think," she spoke slowly to straighten out her own thoughts, "That Snape doesn't want you to write about shrinking solutions."

"What? But it says in the question!"

"I think he wants you to write about the reducing draft at the end of the book, see? It's harder to brew than the shrinking solution but there's way less can go wrong with it. Cheaper too, look at the ingredients. There're loads of reasons you'd want to use that instead."

"Right," Harry dipped his quill and started writing.

"Hey, you're not mentioning the reducing draft."

"Nope."

"Why not?" Why even bother asking for her help if he just ignored it?

"Do you seriously think Snape will believe I came up with that idea on my own?"

No arguing with that, "Fair point."

"I'll throw in a couple of things, enough to hopefully pass."

She went over to the cage by the window where a moulted, ancient owl sat on the perch.

"How are you doing, Errol?" She asked as she stroked his beak.

He closed his eyes and gave a feeble, but happy, hoot.

"It's a long way from Egypt, isn't it? Especially carrying so much. You did really well."

He nipped her finger affectionately.

"Feel up to hunting tonight?" He spread his wings, "Off you go then."

She lent on the still. Even though it was late, the air was wonderfully warm. Uncle Vernon's shiny new company car sat in the driveway, gleaming in the moonlight. She'd not been allowed in it so far. She was barely allowed to look at it. That had been part of the deal to get their trunks in their room. No car. As if she was going to set fire to it just by touching it.

Still, it wouldn't be long until the summer holidays were over, and they could go back to Hogwarts. It was probably weird to look forward to school so much, but when the only other option was spending time with the Dursleys, even prison felt like a better idea.

She happened to glance up in time to see a shape against the moon with wings spread wide. It was flying way too confidently to be Errol,

"Harry," She hissed, "Hedwig's back!"

Harry dropped his essay at once and rushed to the window. The snowy white owl settled on the windowsill in front of Hazel, accepted her scratches with good grace and let Harry untie the two letters from her legs.

"Thanks girl," Harry said, "I bet you're starving though. See if you can find Errol, he's just left."

A hoot of agreement and she took off into the night.

Harry took one of the letters and handed the other over to Hazel. She pulled the seal off eagerly and unfolded it.

"Hey Hazel,

I hope you enjoyed your birthday present! I was looking for ages for that book and I found it in a flea market here in Cairo. The man wanted ten sickles for it, but I got it down to five. Sorry it's not brand new but it's all I could find, unless you wanted something in Arabic.

Egypt has been unbelievable so far! Bill brought me and Ron for a tour of his office. It's a bit small and really dark but apparently that's how they all like it. There's another cursebreaker here I think he has a crush on. She's Irish and I think they went to Hogwarts together, but you should see how they get on. I hope he asks her out, she seems really nice.

We're going tonight to watch a quidditch game! The Holyhead Harpies are playing a friendly match against the Cairo Caracals. Their stadium is huge and they have singing sphinxes before every game! And I finally get to see Gwenog Jones play. It is going to be AMAZING!

I hope everything's okay with the muggles. It doesn't sound like they're being too bad but if they get up to anything, tell me and I'll tell mum right away. I think she can't wait to drop in and say hello. I heard her telling dad the other night how she really wanted to hit your uncle with a frying pan.

There was another argument last night. Because Percy's head boy now he thinks Fred and George should be treating him with more respect. Instead, they charmed his sandals so every time he tries to put them on, they run away from him. Mum nearly lost her voice she was shouting so much.

I'm really looking forward to the last week of the holidays, I hope you can make to Diagon Alley! Colin's definitely going to be there! I sent an owl to Atia to ask her if she was going but she's not written back. Have you heard from her? I'm worried she's been infected by some Malfoy sickness that makes her really snooty again.

Enjoy the book!

Ginny

p.s. Say hi to Harry for me!

p.p.s Do it casually though. Don't make it sound like a big deal.

She laughed at the message and looked up at Harry.

"How's Ron?"

"He's fine. Scabbers still isn't doing great."

"Oh no."

"Yeah, Ron thinks it might be the food."

"Is he worried?"

"He must be, he's had Scabbers for years."

"At least he had the quidditch to look forward to?"

"Yeah, that'll definitely cheer him up. How's Ginny?"

"Loving Egypt. She says hi, by the way. Do you want to write a reply now?"

"We'll leave it to the morning. Hedwig deserves a break I think," Harry yawned loudly, "And I think it's late enough as it is."

Hazel's stomach flipped nervously, "I might stay up a little longer. Read a bit more of my book."

"You've been reading all night. Come on, Hazel. It'll be morning soon and you're already tired."

"I am not."

"You definitely are. You nearly burnt Dudley's bacon this morning and you've never done that."

She shrugged, "I just wasn't paying attention."

"No, you were exhausted. Do you not want to sleep?"

How did she tell him? About the same nightmare she kept having night after night. The coldness that seeped into her bones and the cold, cruel laughter that filled her ears.

"Look," She happened to glance out the window, "Something's coming. I think it's an owl."

Harry was looking right at her, she knew he was, but she didn't look back. The shape highlighted against the sinking moon was definitely an owl. It looked like it was carrying something bulky.

"Expecting any more post?" She asked.

"No, are you?"

"Not unless Ginny's found a newer copy of my book."

It was a handsome barn owl that settled on the windowsill and hooted proudly as Harry untied the large, brown package from its leg and two letters. As soon as he was finished, it took off again into the night.

Harry turned it over, "It's from Hagrid! Dear Harry, happy birthday! Sorry my present is a bit late, but I needed to wait for it to arrive. You'll be getting plenty of use out of it. Hagrid."

It was definitely a book. Hagrid never sent them books. His present for her had been a replica of the Hogwarts Express, made out of carefully folded and painted metal. It was sitting on her bedside table beside Harry's present, a little pocket watch.

Intrigued, Hazel lent in for a closer look.

Then very quickly backed away again as the package shuddered fiercely in Harry's hand.

"What the-" Harry managed before it leapt out of his palm and onto the floor with a heavy thud.

Hazel held her breath, waiting to hear Uncle Vernon's voice from down the hall. That's not what she heard though. What she heard was a ripping and snarling as the book tore the wrapping paper off itself with…teeth?

It flipped itself onto it's spine like some horrible, hardbacked crab and scuttled towards her. Hazel had to put her hands over her mouth to cover the squeal as she leapt up onto her bed out of its way.

Silence filled the bedroom.

"What on earth was that?" Harry asked a little breathlessly.

"I don't know," Hazel's arms were wrapped around her knees to stop them from dangling down, "Do you think it's dangerous?"

"Well, it was Hagrid who sent it."

"That doesn't answer the question!"

"More importantly, how are we going to get it out?" He asked.

"We?"

"It's under your bed!"

"It's your present!"

"Alright, fine!" Harry carefully crept onto the bed beside her and took one of her socks out of her trunk.

"What are you doing?" She hissed.

"Just drop this when I say."

"Why does it have to be my sock?"

"Sorry, will I use one of your books?"

She glared at him as she took it, "I like this pair too."

"Stop moaning and get ready," Harry stood up on her bed, "Go!"

Hazel dropped her sock. As soon as it touched the ground, the brown-covered book lunged from under the bed and tore it to shreds.

Harry jumped and landed on the book with a thump.

"Get a belt!" He said as it snarled and fought against him.

She rushed over and rummaged through his trunk.

"Hurry up!" He snapped.

"It's not my fault your trunk's a mess!" There! It was under a mountain of old quills.

Harry wrapped it around the book and pulled it tight.

"There," he panted, "That should hold it."

The book was still shaking and snarling in his arms.

"Why would Hagrid send you a book that wants to rip your arm off?" She asked.

"You have met Hagrid right? Giant bloke. Bushy beard. Owns a dragon called 'Norbert' and 3-headed dog called 'Fluffy'?" Harry dropped the book into his trunk.

"Even then, does he think you'll be reading it every night?"

"Probably, though if you want to look through it first, I don't mind."

She had never thought there'd ever be a magical book she didn't want to read but here she was, "No, thank you. It's all yours."

"Your loss."

She turned her attention to the two envelopes and her heart skipped. They were made of thick parchment and were sealed with a wax sigil of a lion, a snake, an eagle and a badger around a large 'H'.

"Finally!" Harry tossed Hazel the letter address to her (Hazel Potter, bed on the left, the Smallest Bedroom, No. 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging) and opened his own.

She read down through the list of books, which was mercifully much shorter than last years.

"I see we don't have to get the Lockhart books this year," she said happily. It felt like the countdown to the end of summer had really started.

"I can't imagine why. Hey," A narrow strip of parchment dropped out of Harry's letter and landed on the floor.

"What's that?"

He grinned, "Third Years get to visit Hogsmeade! That's the village that the train pulls into. That's going to be brilliant!"

His smile slipped as he read the letter, "Oh."

"What?"

"It says I need a parent or guardian's permission to visit the village."

"Oh," He may have been leaving them alone this summer but there was still as much chance of Uncle Vernon signing a wizarding permission slip as there was of Snape dancing a tango down Privet Drive.

"I guess I'm not going then," He looked so very dejected.

"You never know," she hated to see him like this, "You might catch Uncle Vernon in a good mood one day."

"I don't think Uncle Vernon's been in a good mood since the day we turned up."

That was true, not that she was going to admit it, "Sleep on it. Something might turn up."

"Maybe," He put his parchment on the bedside table and settled into the duvet, "Good night."

"Night," She settled down herself. For once the dreams of the chamber didn't come. All she could think of was the Great Hall, the Gryffindor Common Room, the sun reflecting off the Lake.

Not long now…

It was only a few weeks, yet it still felt forever away.

Just another few quiet weeks at the Dursleys. What could possibly go wrong?