And tomorrow – well, tomorrow was his sixteenth birthday. Harry stretched and stood up, feeling hunger pangs for the first time in days. He'd been eating mechanically – good thing too, as Dudley Diddikins was still on a severe diet, which meant that the whole family was living on celery and watercress. Fortunately for Harry, he'd gone out to eat a few times with Tonks, who was determined in a strangely maternal way that he would not fade away on her watch.

Harry loped out of his room and down to the kitchen, making as little noise as possible. At 11:30, the whole household was already asleep, as the Dursleys were getting ready for an early start. They were heading off to Brighton for a few days, meeting up with Aunt Marge for, as Uncle Vernon put it, "some sun, sea and relaxation – without Potter". They had been loathe to leave Harry alone in the house, believing that he would utterly destroy it by the time they returned. Harry supposed they had a point – their few encounters with wizards had resulted in some nasty mishaps, such as the utter destruction of their fireplace when the Weasleys used it on the Floo Network.

So when Harry received the owl from Ron inviting him to spend the last four weeks of his holiday at The Burrow with the rest of the Weasleys, the Dursleys were delighted to pack him off. Normally Harry would have been delighted too – only this time, he didn't really feel like dealing with the happy chaos that normally reigned in the Weasley household. He didn't feel like having to be cheerful and make conversation – he just wanted to lie around and not talk to anyone. However, the deed was done and Moody was going to escort him to The Burrow the next morning at 8am.

Entering the kitchen, Harry switched on the lights as quietly as possible. He pulled out a loaf of bread and made himself a cheese sandwich, cleaning up the crumbs he left behind so Aunt Petunia wouldn't have anything to screech about the next morning. Heading back upstairs, he caught a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror and paused, startled. Was this himself - Harry Potter, "the Boy Who Lived", looking back at him?

He seemed to have shot up a few inches recently and was fast heading for six feet. Lean and lanky, he was still wearing Dudley's massive cast-offs, which made him look even thinner. But it was his face that made him pause the longest. Dark shadows under his normally brilliant green eyes made his face seem older, and his cheeks seemed thin and pale. "Time to get some sun," he thought savagely. "Wouldn't want anyone to worry about whether I'm eating properly or anything." For a moment he felt a pang of guilt – that was exactly what Mrs Weasley would say, and he knew she only said that sort of thing because she cared.