Authors Note: Here's something a little different, I have some plans for its future but as always I prefer to allow my stories to evolve naturally. I cannot promise how frequent the updates will be but hopefully not too long between chapters as long as I maintain my interest. The way to make that happen guys, is for you to write more. Good fiction feeds my muse and makes me want to write. For those of you still following my other works, I do have every intention of completing them but real life does make things difficult to say the least. I do have a Hunger Games chapter almost ready to go though, so hopefully this new diversion of mine marks the beginning of my renewed interest in HP.

Harry Potter sat in his bedroom looking out into Privet Drive. In fact he was brooding. Sitting in a darkened room, waiting. Waiting for what he didn't really know but sooner or later one of his friends would rescue him from this hellhole. It was another summer of little or no food, another so called holiday where he genuinely feared for his life. It seemed as though everyone in the world was concerned with killing him; Voldemorts followers, even the people he should have been able to trust the most – his family.

Sirius, his Godfather was dead. The list of people who cared about him seemed to grow smaller year upon year. And while the Dursleys were outwardly less abusive than before, Dumbledore had ordered him to remain in his house... meaning that he was practically starving. His cache of food purloined from Hogwarts before the break was dwindling far more rapidly than he would like.

His heart gave a louder than normal thump when he noticed a shadow darker than the surrounding ones begin to move in the direction of the house. While not trying to hide, there was something furtive about its movement. Straining his eyes, Harry once again cursed the fact that the prescription of his glasses was several years out of date. It soon became obvious that the shadow was a robed figure.

His fumbling fingers found his wand tucked into a drawer and he held the stick in front of him, hoping that he would not have to use it. His experiences last year had taught him that the Ministry were not necessarily on his side. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself. Harry heard the deep breath he took as the unknown person reached the limits of the wards that Dumbledore had placed upon his residence. A heartbeat passed as they stepped across the invisible line, seemingly unfazed.

That meant one of two things; the wizard meant him no harm or they were powerful enough to break through the barrier. Summoning his courage Harry tried to open his door, hoping that he could confront the potential attacker or flee into the night. It was locked. As was the window.

The Gryffindor faced the door, waiting for his chance. Unwilling to risk using magic until he had identified a real threat, he listened as the front door creaked open and unhurried footsteps mounted the stairs. Without hesitation the sound moved towards his room, as though someone knew exactly where he was. Harry stopped breathing and hoped that the assailant had not had time for their eyes to adjust to the darkness, it was the only advantage that he had.

The familiar sound of bolts being retracted only made his anxiety worse. It was becoming hard to breathe and dark dots began to appear in front of his eyes. Harry began to breathe erratically, visions of the Department of Mysteries flashing through his mind. He was in no way ready for another fight.

As the door began to open he began to shake uncontrollably. "E...Ex...Expelliarmus."

A familiar voice uttered a quiet and completely calm, "Protego." Followed by, "Lumos". Dim wandlight sprung from the tip of a wand and Harry looked dumbstruck as it illuminated his friend Hermione Granger. "Honestly Harry, you really need to vary your spellwork."

The Boy Who Lived was feeling pretty weak at the knees and he sat on the bed staring at one of his best friends as though he had never seen her before. "What are you doing here?"

"Not really going to be able to explain in the time that we have. I have one question for you."

"Yes?"

"Who do you trust? Really, truly."

"I..." It had gone right to the middle of his recent confusion. Who? Despite their friendship he knew that while he could trust Ron with a lot of things – he never completely had Harrys back. The other Weasleys were too dedicated to Dumbledore to be completely impartial. He wasn't even sure about the Headmaster. Racking his brains at lightning speed he considered all of the options before he spoke again. "You. Everything that you have done that has upset me has been for my own benefit, even if I couldn't see it at the time."

She smiled at him and something like her normal warmth momentarily returned to her unusually pale and drawn features. "Anyone else?"

"McGonagall. Maybe."

"I agree. On the surface she is too devoted to The Headmaster but she is far too logical to follow him blindly."

Harry blinked at her, did Hermione have the same doubts about Dumbledore as he did? The brunette witch sighed and pulled back her hood. She had a red newly healed scar that ran from her chin, across her lips and cheek before disappearing into her hairline. "What happened?"

"Not now, right now I need you to come with me."

"Where?"

"This is where trust comes in Harry."

Green eyes glanced wildly around the room before coming to rest on his friend once again. "Ok." Hermione waved her wand, muttering an unfamiliar charm and his belongings began to pack themselves into a brown satchel that she wore underneath her robes. Even things that he normally left behind floated from their hiding places and into the bag, his school trunk came through the open door and somehow fit. It was almost as though she never expected him to return to Privet Drive. Moments later she lowered her wand and looked at him again. "Time to go."

A.N: Just a prelude for now.