Rain splattered the windows of privet drive. Vast grey rain clouds obscured the darkening sky as the cars and plants outside received a lashing of precipitation. Even the weather seemed to be mourning the death of Albus Dumbledore.
In a small room in number 4 sat a young man with untidy black hair and brilliant green eyes behind oval glasses. He was hunched up staring moodily out the window. He was wearing baggy, hand-me-down clothes. However, they didn't hang off him as much as before, as he had lost his scrawny, boyish look and developed rather nice muscles due to all the quidditch he had been playing as he was captain.
Harry Potter walked to the other side of the room, his head still clouded over the death of his former head master of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. Harry Potter was a wizard, and a unique one at that. His new found mission in life was to find all the horcruxs of Voldemort, the darkest wizard of the time who killed Harry's parents, and destroy them. He also knew he would eventually face Voldemort himself. It was because of this Harry had spent the last 16 years of his life at his aunt and uncle's house, who hated wizards.
Harry kept reciting the four horcruxs left: the locket, the cup, the snake and something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's. Harry sighed. He couldn't concentrate on his book, Dealing with the Dark Arts, because of his anger towards Snape. He had been Harry's teacher, and had cold bloodedly murdered Dumbledore. He wondered where Snape was now and what he was doing.
Harry looked at his clock. Half past five. He could hear uncle Vernon (who was a large, moustached man) laughing obnoxiously at the T.V and his equally large son's equally obnoxious laughter (though Dudley wasn't quite as moustachey). Harry wished he could leave this place forever, and he could, when he was 17, but that wasn't for another two weeks. He hated it at the Dursley's, always had. But lately his cousin had teased him for sleep talking, and his aunt and uncle (as usual) had treated him like a slave.
There was a loud clap of thunder outside. Then another. Then another. Then- wait!
It wasn't thunder. Someone was throwing stones at his window. Harry looked out of the window to see someone with flaming red hair grinning madly at him and another person with bushy brown hair under an umbrella looking nervously around. It was his two best friends- Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Harry panicked. What were they doing? If uncle Vernon heard he would never hear the last of it.
He scurried as quietly as he could downstairs and opened the door.
"What are you doing?" he hissed.
"Well that's nice isn't it?" said Ron, but he was still grinning.
"Listen Harry, we've come to-" started Hermione, but she was cut off by Harry.
"We can't go! I'm not seventeen yet!"
"We Know. We're staying here until you are 17." She said. Harry's jaw dropped.
"You can't! If the Dursleys-"
"Boy!" roared a voice. Too late. Harry gulped and turned around. Standing on the stairs were his uncle, aunt and cousin, looking livid. "Who are you talking to?"
"I… err…"
Suddenly Ron burst through the door, dripping everywhere and hanging his soaking cloak. The Dursleys took one look at Ron's long nosed, freckled face and uncle Vernon's moustache bristled. Ron looked around the spotless room.
"Flippin' heck! It's a bit clean in here isn't it, mate?"
Hermione, instead of dripping everywhere, shook the umbrella and hung her cloak neatly. Ron spotted Harry's aunt and uncle staring at him. "Hey" he said, eyeing them in disgust "are they the muggles?"
"I think I'll handle this Ron." said Hermione. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger and this is Ronald Weasley." She said smiling politely and she offered her hand in greeting, though Harry could see the dislike in her eyes. Vernon glared at her hand as if it was a snake before yelling "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING IN MY HOUSE?!"
Hermione put her hand down but continued to smile
"We have to visit here for-"
"OH NO YOU DON'T! HOW DARE YOU INVITE YOURSELVES TO MY HOUSE! GET OUT OR I'LL CALL THE POLICE!" he yelled, spraying Hermione with spit. Uncle Vernon was really angry, his moustache was bristling, the vein in his temple was throbbing and he was turning a horrible shade of puce. Hermione closed her eyes, as though she was stopping herself from punching him in the face, and as calmly as she could, said "I understand how you feel, Mr Dursley, but Harry needs us here-"
"Harry?" He glared at Harry. "You're H-Harry's friends?" he quickly changed from puce to purple.
"HOW DARE YOU INVITE YOUR FREAKY LITTLE FRIENDS HERE! GET RID OF THEM!" the vein in his temple was now pulsing terribly fast.
"Sorry, can't do that. We have plans to make" said Harry sternly.
"I'M NOT HAVING ANY MORE OF YOUR KIND AROUND US THIS HOLIDAY!"
"Oh, don't worry about that, we're staying somewhere near here." Said Hermione quickly.
"And we'll only be in my room, we won't bother you" said Harry.
"You are not keeping a girl in your room, normal or not" hissed uncle Vernon, eyeing Hermione. She looked shocked and glared back at him.
"It's for your family's safety" said Ron coldly. Uncle Vernon stared at him.
"In case you didn't know, sir, we are at war." Said Hermione seriously. The Dursleys looked at each other confusedly. There was silence.
"If you expect me to believe this stupid rubbish about a war-"
"Don't you remember me telling you?" said Harry quietly "about how Voldemort is back?" more silence. Aunt Petunia had turned pale.
"B-but-"
"Don't you realise we are needed here? Wizards (the Dursleys shuffled) could quite easily attack you, you know." Hermione stated. Aunt Petunia had been growing steadily paler, and she pursed her lips making her face seem even longer.
"We're specially trained" said Ron in a boastful voice. Harry and Hermione glared at him.
"What- but-"
"Well? Out of our way!" said Harry angrily, pushing past them to climb the stairs. Hermione gave the Dursleys a curt nod and followed him.
"What was that about you being specially trained?" grinned Harry, locking the door.
"Well I had to say something." Sniggered Ron. Harry sighed and sat on the bed wearily.
"How come you came?" he asked quietly.
"Like we said, Harry, we're not leaving you to fight Voldemort on your own." said Hermione, also sitting on the bed. Harry smiled. Truth was, he had been feeling slightly lonely when he was only with the Dursleys, and had worried Ron and Hermione would change their minds.
"Thanks, you two. That means a lot to me"
"We're staying at Mrs Figg's across the road." Said Hermione
"She's pretty weird. The house really smells of cabbage" Ron wrinkled his nose. "Good of her to let us stay, though."
"Doesn't she only have one room?" said Harry suspiciously. Ron turned away, but Harry saw his ears redden and his hidden smirk.
"Yes, but fortunately, I sleep on the sofa." Said Hermione, noticing nothing. Harry frowned at Ron. He had had an inkling that Ron had started fancying Hermione for some time now.
"Good" said Harry. His voice didn't sound his own for some reason.
"So" said Hermione, folding her arms. "Have you thought about the Horcruxs?"
"No" admitted Harry "but I have a funny feeling that if we go to Godric's Hollow we might get a clue."
"Remember the wedding!" Ron chirped in, examining Harry's alarm clock.
Hermione sighed. "Yes, Ron can't forget that."
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