Harry Potter and the Alucinor Dicio

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If you do own him, I can pay you.... $20. C'mon Jo, you don't need him!

Chapter 1 - The Felly-tone

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Harry Potter was watching the clock. Tick, tick, tick. Watching the minutes pass away until three o'clock. He stared as if willing the time to go faster, which it

never did at the Dursley's. This summer much like last summer was passing in a haze of heat and grief and anger. But this year unlike last year, Harry had a

coping mechanism, if you will. Hermione. Mr. Weasley had given him the idea on the platform after leaving the Hogwarts express. He had mentioned the felly-

tone, uh, the telephone. Last year Harry had been unable to speak to anyone about what was going on, he had been left to wonder and fear with a mixture of

grief and anger. But this year he could speak to Hermione.

She called at three o'clock every day, without fail. His Uncle Vernon reluctantly allowed Harry to speak to her for a half hour every day, probably owing to

the fact that Hermione, unlike Ron, could come across as polite and normal when she called. They discussed everything and anything on the phone, including

news that she had read in the Daily Prophet. Uncle Vernon wouldn't allow a paper full of freaks in HIS house, thank you very much. So Harry relied on

Hermione's subscription for daily news of Voldemort and his supporters. Which there had been surprisingly little of over the summer. Although the Prophet

was full of sitings, Harry and Hermione figured that Voldemort was regrouping after the Department of Mysteries battle.

Hermione had tried several times over the summer to speak to Harry about Sirius, but every time Harry told her he wasn't ready. Hermione, surprisingly,

accepted this and let it go for the time being. Harry didn't kid himself that she would let him get away with it permanently. Of his two best friends, Hermione

was always the one who would eventually break down Harry's defenses to get him to talk. Although he had not spoken to her about the Prophecy yet, he

knew without a doubt that she would be the first one he told. So everyday she called, and they spent a few minutes on the news, and the rest of the time

talking about everything else. Harry couldn't recall any time before this that he and Hermione had been so close, not even in fourth year when he and Ron

weren't speaking to each other. Harry felt that had he not been speaking to Hermione everyday this summer, he would have gone insane not knowing what

was going on. Hermione had even delayed going to Grimmauld Place this summer, because it was a wizard household and didn't have a telephone. She

insisted she would go when Harry goes and not before.

Harry had not been spending his summer idle, now that he knew that the fight between him and Voldemort would be until the death, he had spent his days

reading every Defense book he had from the DA last year, and also spent a great deal of time working out. Since he could not practice his magic, he would

train his body. Subsequently Harry had filled out a great deal over the summer, as well as growing a few inches.

Tick, tick, tick... Harry was brought out of his musings by the clock. It struck three followed by his Uncle's bellow up the stairs, calling him to the phone. He

ran down the stairs eagerly snatching the handset from Vernon. “ Hermione...”

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This is my first fic..so be gentle, should I continue? Review...please?