This summer is turning out to be the worst one yet thought Harry as he lay there on his bed. Five days had passed, and during these, he had done nothing more than eat and lie in his bed, thinking. And at the same time trying his hardest not to think. Because to think would mean to feel and to feel was something Harry just wouldn’t let himself do for now.

Harry looked just as was expected, like someone who had not gotten out of bed for a few days. His hair was messier than usual, and his glasses where on crooked. His clothes were so rumpled up everywhere and it looked as though it had been in a suitcase for a few months.

Harry’s thoughts where often quite bitter and resentful. One would think that maybe Ron or Hermione would have written once at least. But nope. Or maybe that Dumbledore would have seen how he was doing. Nope. Or maybe…maybe, just anyone would just write to say hi. No, no one had written to him no one had asked how he was. And no one was brave enough to call him
It’s been so boring Harry thought.

As Harry lie there he saw Hedwig fly in through the window…and what a surprise she had NOTHING for him. He let out an audible sigh.

Days and days past much like this for Harry. The anticipation, the building anger, the small hope, and the harsh reality. Everyday he sent Hedwig with a letter to Ron or Hermione and everyday, Hedwig came back with a few rats. His letters where none to interesting but, they where better than what he received from his so called “friends”. The letters which he had written varied slightly but took on this basic format:
Dear Ron/Hermione,
Hope all is well with you. What is going on, yes I realize not much could be said, but it is a necessary question all the same. I’m having my usual summer fun here at the Dursley’s. Please write back as soon as you can!

Harry.

T
Than finally, about two weeks later, when Harry had almost lost all hope, Hedwig flew in with a reply. Harry tore the letter open. It was from the both of them. But it was quite obvious to Harry that Ron did no more than sign it.



Dear Harry,
All is…well here. Obviously we can’t say very much. But you will be joining us quite soon. That much we can say.
Hermione and
Ron

Two weeks, two lousy weeks and that was the reply. That was what he was waiting for. Wonderful! Their reply was even worse than he thought it would be. Although he supposed he should be grateful that they actually replied.

He had, so far, avoided any contact with the Dursley’s except for meal times at which there was an awkward silence while they all watched Dudley’s television. So deciding he had had enough in his room, Harry went to brood downstairs. When he came down he heard a conversation between the Dursley’s going on. Dudley, it transpired had greatly advanced in his boxing career throughout his recent school year. Consequently, he spend a great deal of time “at tea” with his mates.

After about two weeks, when Harry could no longer stay in his room without thinking about….about… well about what it was he didn’t want to think about, he decided it was time to get out of the house. So he left through the front door and just strolled down the street.
It was stifling hot outside. But that didn’t bother Harry too much, he just continued walking, without a clear destination in his mind.

The fact that there was no news for Harry, made it quite like last years’ summer. But this summer Harry didn’t order the daily prophet, he didn’t watch the news,. Although he was sure that there would be some kind off news on Voldemort, as there was at the end of last year, he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to hear about it just yet. Besides it had been a long time since he trusted in what the Daily prophet wrote. Not only that but Hermione’s yearlong ban on Rita was over and he wasn’t quite ready yet to read the horrible things she wrote about him. And of course there was a possibility that something about Sirius might appear there….but he shouldn’t think about Sirius…he couldn’t think about Sirius. And yet every time that he let his guard down…even if just for a little bit his mind would always wonder back to the Department of Mysterious, back to that dreadful moment. He had dreamed about it countless times, always waking up cold and sweating with tears in his eyes.

It was getting dark and Harry deciding his walk had been long enough came back into the house. Back into his room and to his usual position on his bed. Back to another day of loneliness , boredom and dread.