Harry Potter looked up at the clock as the luminous red numbers shifted to twelve o'clock am. Happy Birthday to me, he thought morosely to himself. The date was officially July 31, his sixteenth birthday. It had been just over a month since he had watched his godfather die a horrid death right in front of him, so his thoughts on his birthday were morose at best, lethal at worse. Harry had just put is book up on the hand-made, make-shift bookshelf above his tiny desk, when he felt and indescribable burning pain course through his body, followed by an odd cooling sensation on his back. He just barely had time to hand his snowy owl, Hedwig, a pre-made note to the Weasley's – stating he needed an adult – before he passed out on his messy bed.
Shortly after Harry passed out, his maternal Aunt, Petunia, entered the small and cramped room and, after setting the medium sized bowl of room temperature water on the desk, tucked him in gently, wiping the sweat from his head with a damp cloth. She then tidied up the room a little – not that it truly needed it – and sat at the desk to watch over her nephew, her sister's son, as she had every year since his parents' death when he was just fifteen months old.
AN: First - this story is, so far, un-beta'd. If anyone thinks I really and truly need a beta, PM me. Second - please review! Even if it is just to criticize me, do so. I want this story to be the best it can be and for the reader to fully enjoy it. I wont post the next chapter until I have at least two reviews. Third- I will try to update on a schedule. It will - hopefully - be Sundays and Wednesdays, but if I can, I will post more often.