Dawn broke, and the sun peeked out of the clouds to shine on a quaint neighborhood and a house with an obsessively neat lawn.

Through one window of that house, you can see a boy on the cusp of his fifteenth birthday lying in bed, stirring awake. As the morning rays shone on his face, the boy rubbed his eyes and yawned as he sat up. His eyes went towards the empty golden bird cage next to the window.

'It's been several days and Hedwig still isn't back with any letters,' he thought. He stood up and walked towards the mirror; looking into it, he saw a scrawny boy with messy black hair. The only thing that stood out about him would be the lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

Harry Potter, famous as 'the boy who lived' and a bunch of other names. All because he survived the attack of one of the greatest dark wizards, while he was still at the tender age of one.

Lauded across the wizarding world as the miracle child who brought down such a great threat to their lives. However, that famous wizard was now feeling furious.

'Even though I had to fight Voldemort and make it back alive, on my own, not one of them thought to write to me all summer!'

Balling up his fists in frustration, he grit his teeth, trying to regain his calm when he heard a voice that just made his morning worse.

"Wake up! Wake up right now!" came the shrill voice of his aunt, Petunia Dursley, accompanied by banging on his door.

Harry was not well liked in the house, though 'not well liked' might be a bit of an understatement. The feeling was mutual, though. Harry would much rather move out and live on his own than to continue living with his aunt, uncle, and his morbidly obese cousin.

All of whom would rather pretend they were a harmonious family of three than let anyone know there was a fourth 'aberration' in their house.

"Are you up yet?!" Another shrill yell blasted through the door.

"I'm up, I'm up."

With a defeated sigh, Harry glanced one last time at Hedwig's empty cage before making his way down to the kitchen.

"You're finally here!" said his aunt. "Take over and fry the eggs. Don't you dare let them burn or you'll go hungry for a month!"

Petunia hurried off to take care of whatever else she needed to do.

What followed was a routine that he hated but yet had gotten used to. Accompanied by the shrill voice of his aunt, Harry made breakfast for the family.

"Hey! I don't want fried eggs! Make me an omelet!" yelled his cousin, Dudley.

"Make your own breakfast then," grumbled Harry.

"Mom! He's not making me breakfast!"

"You make whatever he wants you to make! Do you understand me?" Screeched Petunia, a rather common occurrence in the house.

'Well, at least these people are consistent in their attitude towards me,' thought Harry sourly as he thought back to the dearth of letters from his friends.

After breakfast, Harry hurried out of the house. Dudley's birthday was coming up soon and, in the occasion's joy, Dudley and his gang would do what they enjoyed doing the most. A game they called 'Harry Hunting'.

An innocent game (as innocent as a game with hunting in the name can get), that involved the gang trying to track Harry down and beat him up. Though they had never done that, simply because every member in Dudley's gang was bigger and stupider than the next. Dudley being the biggest and stupidest of the lot, making him the de facto boss.

Though Harry was no longer scared of confronting them, he would much rather stay away from such troublesome situations. Listening to Dudley and his gang's mocking and ridicule would only annoy him further.

'Not to mention, a breath of fresh air would do wonders for my mood.'

Walking down the familiar, obsessively clean paved streets, Harry put his problems to the back of his mind and just enjoyed the scenery.

No matter what he had to say about the Dursleys or the people who lived around these parts, this area was definitely a beautiful place. Whether it was the scenic view of the parks filled with greenery or the rustic charm of the streets lined with beautiful houses.

Almost half an hour later, Harry came across a street he had visited little since he was young. He may have used it a few times while running away from Dudley and his gang, but other than that, not much.

Walking in, Harry realized the street was basically identical to everything else he had seen so far. Not that he had expected anything different.

Having had his fill of the same streets and houses, he headed back home to spend some time reading a book or maintaining his broom.

"Hey Harry!"

Surprise coloured his face as he looked towards the voice. Across the street from him, he saw a tall, beautiful girl with long, straight blonde hair flowing halfway down her back. Her hazelnut eyes twinkled lightly as she approached Harry with a grin.

'Finally, a familiar face!' Thought Harry with a small smile on his face.

"Fancy seeing you here, Lily!" said Harry as soon as she reached him.

"Yeah, though I'm more surprised you even remember my name," she replied with a grin.

"Well, what can I say? You're just that memorable."

A peal of laughter rang out from Lily. Her wide grin and happy gestures caused Harry to chuckle.

"To be honest, I didn't expect to run into a classmate in this little slice of hell."

"Oh, come now!" exclaimed Lily. "It's really not that bad, at least compared to some other places. Would you rather be in the forbidden forest than here?"

"That depends, really."

"On what?"

"On how many spiders want to eat me," replied Harry.

"Huh? Why spiders?" She asked, confused.

Harry grinned and told her about their second year and how he and Ron went into the forbidden forest and almost got eaten.

"If not for Mr Weasley's enchanted car, we'd definitely be goners."

"What happened to that car, anyway?" Asked Lily.

"I think it's still in the forest," replied Harry. "I kinda want to go in and check now."

"Ooh ooh! Me too!"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at her excitement. "So you live around here?"

"Yup, just in the next street over, my aunt and uncle have lived here for years now. "

"Oh, that's just three streets from my place. What a small world!"

"Yeah, it really is!" replied Lily. "Imagine, meeting the famous Harry Potter in the middle of the street."

"Please don't," groaned Harry.

Lily glanced over at Harry and after seeing his expression, she broke down laughing.

"You really dislike being famous, don't you?" She said, amidst her raucous laughter.

"Well...yeah, wouldn't you?"

Lily walked towards the nearby park as she replied.

"Knowing how you got famous, I definitely would hate it," nodded Lily, "Though I don't really like standing out and would much rather just spend time with people I like and trust."

The two strolled around for a little while longer, chatting, until it was time for Lily to leave.

"I'll head home now or my aunt will worry. Let's meet again?" Asked Lily, looking up at Harry expectantly.

"Definitely! I'd much rather stay away from my house as much as possible, so let's meet tomorrow as well?" Harry nodded immediately.

"Great!" she beamed a great big smile in response. "Let's meet at that park over there by ten in the morning!"

The two parted ways and Harry walked back to his house. It was just past lunchtime when he reached.

The moment he walked into the house, he spotted his aunt.

"There's no more food for you," she said. "Should have come back on time."

With a smirk, she turned away from him and walked into the kitchen. Moments later, just as Harry was walking up the stairs, the front door slammed open, and a voice rang loudly through the house.

"Mom! I'm hungry!" Yelled Dudley.

"Of course Duddykins! Come into the kitchen. I'll heat the food in a minute."

Harry watched agape as his cousin raced into the kitchen. 'Well, not the first time this has happened, he thought with a shake of his head.

Harry walked back into his room and, seeing Hedwig's empty cage, his mood plummeted even more. 'Ugh, is it really that hard to write a letter?'

Not wanting to get even more annoyed, Harry opened up his trunk and took his broomstick cleaning supplies out and worked on his firebolt.

'Phew, that was tedious work. According to the book, even if you don't use the broomstick, it's best to maintain it at least once a week.'

Harry looked fondly at his broomstick, remembering how he and Hermione had saved Sirius and how they found out that the broomstick was actually his gift for Harry.

A tap on the window broke Harry out of his thoughts. A moment's glance later, he leapt up and raced over to open it with a grin on his face.

Opening it, he moved aside to let the snowy owl fly in and perch on his bedpost.

"Hedwig! Any news?"