Disclaimer: Same as always

AN: Ok so, Wow first off, I want to thank the reivews and such that I had for chapter 2, even though they were very so long ago. I actually didn't expect anyone to be interested in this story at all, especially considering I never really viewed it much more than a way to be able to beta other peoples stories. Your comments have all been really nice and I'm humbled that I was even likened to Douglas Adams by user Lotta Devon, and while I respectfully disagree I'm such a poor writer I don't think Im anything like him, it was a wonderful thing to read. That being said, there's a lot been going on that has meant I've not been able to maintain this how I wanted to, and especially considering how people seem so into it, even though it was so long ago, I felt really bad leaving it to drop off. So while this chapter isnt anything special at all, I wanted to start writing again, so please as always. Be kind. Thanks in advance.


Harry stirred, that bridge between sleep and reality caving under his feet. Harry blinked blearily, wiping the night's sleep from his eyes. Gaining his bearings he flailed his arm out, his hand trying, in vein, to find his glasses. Harry Potter: Defeater of Voldemort, Chosen one, and all-round super awesome bloke, fell off his bed in a pile of limbs and embarrassment.

Breathing deeply as if to stave off what was coming, he awaited the shriek of his Aunt with trepidation, "Three...two...one..." he whispered under his breath. Right on time the wail of "POTTER, WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP THERE YOU UNGREATFUL WRETCH, GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" reached his now damaged ears. A long suffering sigh and a quick "YES AUNT PETUNIA" was hollered back. Scratching the back of his neck and grabbing some clothes and his elusive glasses, he made his way out of his room and down the stairs.

"Things are going to change boy." His Uncle all but growled at him as he reached the bottom landing. "Good Morning to you too Uncle" was Harrys' quick witted, and quickly regretted reply. Wincing slightly as his Uncles face changed a shade, Harry made to move to the kitchen, but was stopped by a bark from Vernon. "Change, Boy. I've had it with you and your freaks, my Sister, my good, kind Sister is in prison, while you, you and your unnaturalness, flounce around MY home. Well no more boy, no more. Contact your freaks; tell them you're no longer wanted here. They can deal with you; I wash my hands of you." Harrys' gaze switched to his aunt, who wore a gleeful smile, her eyes full of malice.

Swallowing, and not trusting his voice Harry ran back upstairs and began to pack, the conversation playing through his head. Stuffing as much as he could into his trunk, he went to the hidden cache of treasures from under the floorboards all the while fighting with his panic induced shaking limbs. "I know I hate it here Hedwig but I never thought they'd actually kick me out. What am I going to do? Where will I go?" Breathing heavily Harry tried to center himself, attempting to stifle his emotions was not as easy today as it had been last night.

He bolted upright, "SIRIUS!" he proclaimed, "I could stay with Sirius!" grabbing a pen and some paper Harry quickly jotted out a letter to Remus and Sirius explaining that he had nowhere to go, and that he had been kicked out of the Dursley Residence. "Quickly girl, get this to Sirius or Remus as quick as you can." he said while opening the rooms only window, and unlocking her cage. Hedwig stretched her wings and flew off into the sky, Harry not waiting to watch her disappear began again with his packing.

It wasn't long before he was fully packed and ready to depart when the doorbell rang, and a shout from his Uncle: "BOY, get down here and bring your things, I'll not have you loitering in this house any longer than you have to." Grabbing his trunk and jolting out the door, eager to see his Godfather again after so long, Harry caught the fleeting sight of his Aunt Petunia, looking white as a sheet as she retired further into the house. Putting it out of his mind, Harry made to the door, smile on his face, which quickly fell to a frown as he realised it wasn't his Godfather or even Remus, but Snape who stood at the entrance.

The greasy haired man was wearing his trademark sneer although for once was not aiming at the boy-who-fails-at-potions, but at his Aunt Petunia. "Always a ...pleasure Tuney, come along Potter we don't have all day." His black beady eyes quickly snapped to Harrys', and with a flourish, he made his way down the well kept lawn of Number Four Privet Drive, scion Potter in tow. An extended arm and one hurried Apparate later and Harry Potter stood in-front of the eclectic house that was The Burrow.