Since this had several orthographic HORRORS, here's the re edited version.

Re edited: December 28th, 2011.

Hi, I want to introduce myself a bit, and say that the main thing you need to know about me is that English isn't my first language'll find mistakes (I'll try to don't make them but isn't that easy). I wrote this in spanish first, well...that's it. Nice to meet you.

Back home

Harry sat on the stairs outside of his uncle's home at the Private Drive Street. It was hot. He clasped the soles of his shoes as he was waiting for something to happen: but nothing was happening. He sighed and looked up. When was Hedwig coming back? It was his first day back after Hogwarts, and even though he hadn't spent more than a year there (or that's what a normal person could see, because for him and his family it had been only a blink too short to have been enjoyed with plentitude), to him, it meant to discover the meaning of a real home, because it had been there, at the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where he had learned the value of friendship, brotherhood and filial love. He had met two siblings he had never thought he could get to have: Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley (and all the family of red hair behind him, because to Harry, Ron would be always the first and most important of all Weasleys, though he would always see himself behind them).

He smiled, that Ron...He couldn't believe that a person that hadn't known him for more than a few months had risked his life for him in that way. An eleven-years-old kid, had offered him the most appreciated possession of a human being to give it to him without hesitate or thinking it even once: from his heart, not regretting his decision. Certainly, all those years of sorrow had worth it, and if he had the chance to choose, he would take the same life he had lived already: because it was that life, who had turned him the person he was and besides, introduced him Hermione Granger, a bookworm with beaver's teeth and bushy brown hair, but with a heart as noble as you would never imagine below that hard and wiseacre appearance, that also had risked her life at her short twelve years for him: for him.

He touched his scar, after so, so many years it meant something more than a lie and a car crash: it was the mark of a curse, of a murder, of a crime against his family and worse, against all families in the world. He clenched his fits: Voldemort had paid for the death of his parents and he would never come back, he had assured that down there and at last, Lily and James's Potter deaths had been revenged. He wished that they had been there to see have been alive to be present at a moment like that, where they would have been prouder of him than ever: because he had been scared, but had never forgotten about the sacrifice that all the fallen or wounded people in the process of killing "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" had made, and he had decided that he preferred to give his own life before allowing him recovering his.

The flutter of an owl, no, not an owl: his owl, made him react and notice that he had been sitting there for almost an hour without looking at any place in special, lost in his own thoughts.

"Hello," he smiled at receiving the bird on his lap, "Thank you, I'll reward you later".

Hedwig stood where she was and stretched her leg so her owner could untie the letter attached. Harry unfolded it, hopping that it wasn't some magical weird thing; from the Weasley, he would expect anything.

"Dear Harry, It would be a pleasure having you here all the summer!, ask your uncles if they let you (we don't want to get you in troubles, sweetheart). I believe that I already told you that your..."

The letter was changing the topic every two lines until turning into some kind of encyclopedia of twelve volumes signed by Molly Weasley with a little PS from Ron, which had said "Hello".

"Tranquil Hed, if we are lucky and my uncles don't want me here anymore, we will have the best holidays of our lives," he said caressing her plumage while the bird huddled friendly.

Not so far away, he saw the Dursley's car: he hadn't seen them yet because they were on a trip at the moment that he came back. His uncle parked almost brutally, getting off the car at seeing him sitting at the door.

"What are you doing with that bird?, you want the neighbors to believe we are mad?," he shouted pushing him to make him crash against the door, forcing him to open.

"No, I'm sorry, is that, she brought a letter," he tried to explain while Petunia came in curiously, holding hands with Doodley.

"A letter?, from those abnormals?," shouted Vernon furious, and if Hed hadn't hide behind Harry, the little one would have ended up plucked and used as a relaxation toy.

"They are not abnormal!, they're my friends!, Hedwig brought it to me, they invited me to stay at...!", insisted Harry, offended deeply, but was interrupted by his uncle immediately.

"This bird?," he complained, lifting Harry up from his shirt, "Is this what keep you in touch with those...things?"

Harry wanted to punch him, to kick him, to hurt him bad but he abstained: he knew that, if he wanted the permission, he had to behave.

"Yes sir".

His uncle stared at him before turning back to the animal. Petunia took her son away from there, not before dedicating a pure look of hatred and resentment to her defunct sister's son.

"I'm going to fix that," said taking Harry and his owl severely, dragging them to one of Doodley's rooms that, unfortunately, they had to concede to his nephew, or he would have to assume the risk of having Dumbledore in his house to make him change his mind.

Harry followed the pushing to the stairs, and let his uncle drag him to the room he had occupied last night.

"No more nonsense, no more abnormal, no more stupidities," said Vernon, making Hedwig get into her cage, "I'm going to lock that!, I don't want to hear any word from that stupid world you came from!, Not a word!, Nothing!"

"But they invited me...!"

"I don't care, you stay here. I don't know how you convinced me to let you go to that madhouse but that shall not happen again," he adverted slamming the door before leaving Harry sitting on his bed in deep helplessness.

Hedwig made a noise trying to cheer him up and he began to cry until he noticed that, on his night table, there was a picture of Hermione, Ron and himself. His sad face changed immediately to a happy one: he had hopes that somewhere out there, there were at least two friends waiting for him, two friends that had proven that they would never leave him alone. It was about waiting a little time, patience...he had waited for ten long years to find a little happiness, now, he could wait three months if it worth it, if that let him go back home.

I wish this wasn't AS bad as it seems...and...I don't know, any comment is accepted (all kinds of but only if they're respectful!).