Harry Potter and the War of the Worlds

Chapter 1

The Dream

The families living on Privet Drive passed the window every day. Some may have even looked up into the tiny pane of glass and innocently wondered about the happenings of the window's room, as nosy neighbors do. But the inhabitant of that room, a young boy of 16, did not pay any attention to the passersby. The tall, dark haired, bespectacled teen spent his waking hours trying to avoid thoughts of the tragic and complicated events of the past school year.

The boy, Harry Potter, lay awake on his back staring up at the ceiling, despising the silence that surrounded him. He wished for some distraction to temporarily occupy his wandering thoughts. I wonder where Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are. Harry thought to himself as he sat up slowly, cramped from the long hours on the hard floor of his room. Harry's keepers, Vernon and Petunia Dursley, had paid little attention to their nephew since Harry returned home from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. On some occasions, one could even be so bold as to say they were somewhat hospitable to the boy, almost "family-like". Harry distrusted this change in his relatives, which, it seemed to Harry, was closely related to the fact that a number of odd looking wizards had escorted the Dursleys and Harry from King's Cross with threats if Harry was mistreated. He especially dreaded the forced small talk at the dinner table. It was more of an interview than a conversation. Aunt Petunia would ask the questions and Harry would vaguely answer them. This charade would go on for a few more minutes, interupted only by Dudley's requests for seconds, thirds, fourths, and the occasional fifth, although Dudley knew all to well that Aunt Petunia was gradually decreasing Dudley's intake. Eventually, after the deadly glares from Uncle Vernon every time Harry mentioned anything that seemed remotely related to the "m" word, Harry would ask to be excused and Aunt Petunia, with a subtle sigh of relief, would excuse him.

I suppose I should start on my Potions essay. Snape would just love to expel me even before a second class. Harry chuckled to himself at the thought of Snape's gleefull face if Harry arrived to his class without the assigned summer essay. Although Harry reluctantly began his essay on the similarities and differences of the sleeping draught and the calming potion, a part of him felt almost happy to be able to do something related to the wizarding world. This summer had been different in that the Dursleys had let him keep his school books with him, unlocked, but the rush he felt in casting a spell or even mixing a potion couldn't be replaced by a measly essay.

As Harry put his inked quill to the parchment, a rusling of feathers caused Harry to look up. Hedwig was resting in her cage, unperturbed by the noise. Harry then focused his gaze on a movement outside his window. He went to the window and swung it open just as a sleek black owl soared in and perched atop the back of his chair. Harry approached the owl, searching for a package or a letter in the animal's talons. The owl, seemingly reading his mind, holds out his foot. Harry reached out and grasped the letter tied to the owl's foot. Almost instantly, the owl left as swiftly as it had entered. Harry watched the bird fly gracefully away and then focused his attention on the envelope.

To: Master Potter

Sixth Year at Hogwarts School

of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Curious, Harry examined the envelope. It must me the results of my O.W.L.s. Reluctant to open the letter at this thought, he slowly tore away the flap and pulled out the parchment with feelings of both anticipation and misgivings.