Only three more days, Harry thought, as he lay on the hard mattress of the bed in Dudley's former second bedroom. Staring at the smooth cream-colored ceiling, he sighed. Three more days until I get to the Burrow.

To Harry, this summer seemed to be the worst one yet. The days dragged on and all Harry could think about was Sirius. In his dreams the scene of his death played over and over, making him dread sleep. During the day Harry saw Sirius's face everywhere. He always took a second glance at any black dog he saw while walking along the prim lawns of Privet Drive.

Fortunately, the Dursleys had become much more bearable due to a few choice words put in by Professor Moody. And unlike last summer, Harry wasn't left in the dark. Now that the Ministry had accepted Voldemort's return (And much too late, Harry thought) the degree of secrecy in the Order was considerably lessened. Harry was told as much as was allowed by his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

Only three more days, Harry thought. It was the only thing that had kept him going.