I do not own Harry Potter or any of the charaters.

Forbidden

Prologue

Harry sat at his desk staring blankly out the open window; a light breeze ruffled his unruly locks as he released a small sigh. He cast another glance at the calendar on his wall, taking comfort in the fact that it was almost over. He only had a couple of more days at Number Four Privet Drive before he could return to the burrow for the last two weeks of summer. He had hoped for longer but unfortunately that was the only time in the whole summer that Dumbledore would allow him away from the unimaginative, repressive Dursley's. He had begged him to allow him to go to the Weasley's for the whole summer, heck, he and Ron had put on a full campaign, with a signed petition written by Hermione that contained the signatures of countless students, not to mention those of every Gryffindor including Professor McGonagall, but the headmasters mind was made up and would not be altered.

Harry sighed again, flipping the famous wizard card that he had around idly in his hand a few times before deciding upon reading again... for the fifth time... in five minutes.

Circe

A powerful sorceress who lived on an island called Aeaea; near Italy. Circe was a powerful witch with the ability to turn people into beasts on the slightest whim.

A tall elegant looking witch glared at him from the front of the card, her red eyes flashed as her long hair whipping around her face. She then lifted her long hand up, fingers outstretch as if she were attempting to cast a spell on him. Harry rolled his eyes, tossing the card on the desk.

'Able to turn people into beasts, huh… well then I guess she's met the Dursley's already.' He thought giving a chuckle at his private joke, he'd have to remember to write that down and tell it to Ron when he got to the burrow.

Standing he took a hearty stretch, letting out a loud yawn, he then began to pace the room. Harry picked up an old Quidditch magazine off of the floor and flipped through a few pages, realizing that he had just about every article and picture memorized he huffed and tossed it back onto his already cluttered bedroom floor. The speed of his pacing picked up as he once again worked himself up into an agitated state, ignoring the occasional stumble over shirts, books and his Hogwarts robe.

He just didn't get it, why did Dumbledore insist upon being so bloody difficult. The information from the Order was that Voldermort was lying low, and had been ever since his failed attack on Dumbledore at Hogwarts last year. Harry gave a small smile in remembrance recounting the night's events in his minds eye.

He was hidden under his invisibility cloak, when Dumbledore realized that Voldermort was there and cast a spell on him so that he couldn't move. After being confronted by the dark wizard and a lengthy battle, Voldermort thought that Dumbledore was far too wounded to defend himself and stood over the headmaster gloating. He was going on and on about how pathetic and senile Dumbledore had become, relying too much on emotions and feelings. As he made another sharp turn, while pacing Dumbledore's prone injured form he did a dramatic flip of his cape that Harry found to be worthy of Snape. During this dramatic flip when he wasn't looking the older man disappeared from sight and by the time Voldermort realized that he was gone and turned to look for him Dumbledore was already shouting his spell. The force of it hit him in the back and sent him flying forward; he landed in a heap next to a small stone statue with a green substance that Harry could only guess was supposed to be blood, flowing from his side. Turning and giving a glare through his snake like eyes, Voldermort then let out a loud hiss, before flying into the air and off of the grounds disapparating as soon as he got past the magical border.

Harry smiled, 'It was bloody spectacular,' he thought coming to a halt, the smile still lingering on his face. 'Perhaps if Riddle would have accepted his muggle side and watched a few movies, he would know that it's stupid for the bad guy to stand around and gloat,' he thought chuckling.

Since his defeat that night, there had been a bit of a weight lifted off of the shoulders of the wizarding community it general and Harry in particular. There were no more random attacks and had people stopped coming up missing. But even though everything was quiet and had been for months, Dumbledore still insisted that Harry stay with his relatives for most of the summer.

"It's about your safety, Harry," he said, mimicking Dumbledore. "If we let our guard down something could happen to you and blah, blah, blah, nag, nag, nag," he finished in a less than accurate recounting.

"Does dying of boredom count as something happening," he mumbled throwing himself backwards onto his bed. Pulling a broken quill from under his back and tossing on to the growing pile of junk on his floor, he then stared at the ceiling and resumed his childish grumbling. "That's it I'll die of boredom, then they'll be sorry... or better yet I can catch the Dursley's severe case of stupidity, if Dudley's any indication then it must be contagious."

As he lay on his bed imagining several new and odd ways for his eminent demise at the hands of his obnoxious muggle relatives, ranging from drowning after sitting next to a nervous Uncle Vernon and his over active sweat glands, to chocking on a burnt piece of bacon made by Aunt Petunia. He saw something zoom by him, he sat up just in time to see Errol crash into is wardrobe, landing on the floor with a resounding 'thump'.

"Great a letter from Ron!" he exclaimed, rushing to the fallen owl, who now seemed to be trying to sit up.

Picking up the bird, Harry placed him softly on the bed, untying the parchment from his leg, before giving him a small treat.

"You know maybe you should get some rest," he said petting the owl softly on the head "give you time to shake off that concussion."

He then left Errol on the bed and went to his desk to unroll the parchment, reading it aloud.

Hey Harry,

What's up? It's me Ron, but I'm sure that you probably figured that out already. Fist things first, just found out that Bill and Fleur are expecting a baby, that's right I'm going to be an uncle! Don't worry I promise to be nothing like yours! Well, anyway, because of the news, mum and dad have decided that we should head up to Shell Cottage to visit them before going off to school. Look I have a spot of bad news, it seems that you won't be able to go with us, I know what you're thinking but it's not because we don't want you to. It just that the cottage is nowhere near the size of the burrow and with me, Ginny, Fred, George, mum, dad, Charlie and Fleur's mom, dad and sister all coming around, there just isn't any additional room. I'm sorry mate, but Dumbledore did say he would look for another place for you to stay so that you don't have to spend your whole summer in hell. Well anyway I have to pack, mum keeps checking in on me to make sure I'm getting ready.

P.S. I know what you're thinking it's a little early for them to be having a kid considering the wedding was only about three months ago. I personally have my own ideas, I would tell you what they are, but mum may read this letter before I get a chance to send it and box my ears again, like she did when she caught me telling Ginny. I'll fill you in on the train! See ya soon!!

P.S.S. Ginny says Hi and some other mushy girly stuff that I absolutely refuse to write down on parchment…ever…in life.

Ron

Harry read and reread the letter several more times before crumpling it up and throwing it in the bin. He couldn't believe it; he wasn't going to the burrow this year! He fought back tears as depression swarmed through him; looking at his bed he noticed the Errol was gone. The owl had probably left while he was staring stupidly at Ron's idiotic letter. He got up from the desk and threw himself down on the bed, hoping against hope that Ron was right and Dumbledore would find him somewhere, anywhere to go.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning Harry was awaken by a loud bellow from downstairs.

"BOY!! HEY BOY!!" Uncle Vernon yelled from the bottom of the stairs. "GET DOWN HERE, IT'S TIME FOR BREAKFAST AND I DON'T WANT ANYONE IN YOUR LOT CLAIMING THAT WE AREN'T FEEDING YOU!! DO YOU HEAR ME BOY!!"

Still half asleep, Harry fumbled with his glasses for a minute and only poking himself in the eye once in the process, finally managing to get them on. Standing and sliding on his house shoes he shuffled out of his bedroom, making his way downstairs to the kitchen still rubbing his stinging eye. By the time that he reached the table his glasses were more than a bit askew so adjusted them before looking down at his plate, and promptly wished he hadn't bothered. The small chipped plate contained one small piece of toast, a single lonely strand of bacon, what looked like it amounted to half of an egg and of course every single item burnt.

Dudley wobbled into the kitchen, tossing the mail to his dad and flicking on the T.V. on his way to his seat. Harry couldn't help but notice that Dudley's plate was piled high with non-burnt toast and bacon, kippers, jam, a large helping of eggs, rolls and a side of porridge. As he made it around the table and plopped down into his chair, Harry could swear that he heard the poor thing groan in protest. Picking over his food, he allowed his mind to wander to any place but Privet Drive. Just as he was imagining his great escape, involving a Hippogriff, a strategically placed Skiving Snackbox and an army of newly opened chocolate frogs, his thoughts were interrupted.

"What's the matter is normal not good enough for you," Petunia sneered, taking note the he hadn't eaten a bite off of his plate.

Harry gave her an incredulous look, before looking down at the offending plate.

"This is normal?" He asked in a disbelieving tone, poking at a burnt egg.

"Well, what's this about," his uncle cut in. His aunt deciding not to interrupt her husband settled for giving Harry a nasty glare before turning and stomping away.

"Well boy, you heard me... what's this about?" Vernon demanded again when he didn't receive a quick enough response.

Harry looked to see his uncle holding up a letter.

"Well since I haven't read it, I wouldn't know, now would I," he said in an innocent voice.

"Don't get lippy with me you," he snarled. "It's addressed to you, but it looks... normal, not at all like the letters your lot normally sends." He flipped the letter back and forth a few times as if waiting for something to happen.

Rolling his eyes, Harry snatched it from Vernon's grasp.

"Why you,"

"It's mine isn't it, so it stands to reason that I should be the one to have it." Harry said smugly.

Vernon's face turned a blotchy red. "You know back in my day, when boys like you got cheekily they got a nice hard smack across the face."

"Well, we're not back in your day," Harry said taking his wand out of his pocket and pointing it at his uncle. "And as for that nice hard smack... I dare you."

"Y..yo...you can't use magic out of school, you'll get expelled." The man sputtered, his eyes locked on the wand.

"I believe that I've used magic outside of school before and I haven't been expelled," Harry said looking thoughtful "as a matter of fact, at least twice that you should remember. Once that night with the Dementors and of course that year that I sent your sister on her little..." he gave a smile. "Hot air balloon ride cross country."

Vernon recoiled away from Harry, Petunia emitted a small squeak and Dudley froze with his fork halfway to his mouth, the only sounds in the room anymore were the T.V. and a small 'plop' as part of Dudley's eggs fell from his fork back onto his plate. Harry gave a wink and a wave walking happily out of the kitchen and up to his room to read his letter. As he was heading up the stairs his pleasure at besting his uncle faded to be replaced with curiosity, who would send him a letter? He read the soft scrawling script on the front of the white envelope, smiling to himself.

'Hermione,' he thought.

Entering his room and closing the door securely behind him he rushed to his desk opening the letter along the way. Taking a seat he smiled as he read the contents:

Harry,

Hi, how's your summer... wait don't answer that. Well anyway I received an owl from Dumbledore, telling be about what happened with the Weasley's. Oh, Harry I'm so sorry, I know that it must be torture in that house. Look I spoke with mum and dad and they agreed that it would be ok if you came to stay with us for the last two weeks of summer. I would ask you to owl back your response but mum's a bit afraid of owls since the one Dumbledore sent swooped through the window unexpectedly and almost gave her a heart attack. I'll just assume that you're going to say yes and get on with it. Dad and I will be there to pick you up tomorrow (which should be Saturday by the time you get this) in his car. Be packed and ready to go, we'll have a great time don't worry!!

P.S. Don't worry about bringing Hedwig, I already talked to mum and as long as she doesn't fly around the house, it's ok.

See you soon,

Hermione

Harry's smile slowly turned into a huge grin as he did a happy dance around the room. He was out of here! Even though he didn't get to spend the last few weeks with Ron and Ginny, he still got to spend them with one of his very best friends and away form the Dursleys'. He then reread the letter a few times, pausing his third time through as something hit him.

'Wait, she's right, Saturday is tomorrow! I have to get packed," Harry placed the letter on his desk so he wouldn't loose it in the black hole that was his room. Then looked around in dismay at the horribly messy, disorganized, pit of doom that was his room; unsure of where to start first.

'This should be fun,' he thought sarcastically, picking up a shirt and sniffing to see if it was clean. "Ugh, ok, that needs to be washed," he said to himself almost coughing from the smell.

The rest of the morning and afternoon was spent much in the same fashion, with Harry gathering his clothes, for wash and packing his belongings. Even though he was busy sorting everything, washing and throwing away trash, Harry still felt like it was taking forever for the day to pass.

'Several more hours,' he thought that evening, while pushing around a dry almost meat-less drumstick on his plate. 'Just several more hours...'

A.N. End prologue, what do you think, should I continue or just give up while I'm ahead... The next chapter should be out soon, for those who think I should just give up... you may want to just skip it. Thanks and remember to please Read and Review!!!