Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived and future Head Boy of Hogwarts, was brooding. Or to precise, was brooding more than usual. Ever since his disastrous fourth year and the rebirth of evil Lord Voldemort, Harry had worried over events in the wizarding world. He was, after all, the Chosen One. At least in the eyes of British witches and wizards. In his short seventeen years Harry had faced off against Voldemort and his many incarnations, each time miraculously surviving. It was expected of him to finish the job. A heavy weight for the boy to bear, but surprisingly enough, not what was weighing him down. As the summer months came to a close and he prepared to enter Hogwarts hallowed halls for the last time he instead dwelt on his own mortality.

As he packed his school trunk he came across a letter from Ron. It had arrived the day after his booklist and badge. In it was a slight reprieve from the loneliness of his thoughts.


Hope the muggles are treating you well. Mum's still trying to convince Dumbledore to let you spend the rest of the holiday at the Burrow so keep your fingers crossed. Hermione's already here. I don't know how much more time I can spend with her before I go barking mad. When she isn't going on about how fascinating ancient Greek wizarding ruins are she's worrying about you. If for no other reason than to keep her quiet, I hope you come to stay. Seriously though, we do miss you.

Have you got your letter yet? Ours came yesterday. Hermione made Head Girl (of course) and Ginny managed to pass all her O.W.L.s. Between the two of them there was enough jumping and screaming to scare all the gnomes out of the garden. I saw em' sneaking back in last night though. I made Quidditch captain, but handled the situation with manly dignity. Are you angry? You've been on the team twice as long as anyone else. We could be co-captains of something if that makes you happy. Let me know ok? Do you know who made Head Boy? It wasn't me, but as long as it's not Malfoy I'll be happy. Could you imagine that ferret in charge of the students? Or worse, sharing a common room with Hermione?

Just in case Mum can't swing anything. Do you want to meet up in Diagon Alley the day before the train leaves to get supplies? There's a new strategy book out by the Cannons coach that I want to look at. We can buy our books while we're there and then spend the night at the Leaky Cauldron. Run it by the muggles and see if it's ok. If not just threaten to hex them or something.

Your mate,


Smiling, Harry folded the letter and placed it on top of the others he had received that summer. Living with the Dursleys had been nearly unbearable. Although he had been of age for almost a month, Dumbledore insisted that he stay with his Aunt and Uncle for the entire summer. As it was the last time he would be able to reap the protections of his mother's gift, the headmaster wanted it to be as strong as possible. Harry's time out of school had been spent working in the yard, and hiding in his room. Uncle Vernon seemed intent on squeezing every last bit of free labor from the boy before being rid of him. Even after Harry came of age and was allowed to perform magic outside of school his situation didn't change, if anything, the young man became even more despised by his relatives on Privet Drive. When he wasn't outside, Harry stayed in his room. Reading books on defense against the dark arts, corresponding with Ron and Hermione, and thinking about what the world would be like after he left it.

It hadn't been a pleasant holiday.