Number Four looked as pristine and boring as it ever had. Harry looked up at it with a noticeably lesser sense of dread than was normal for his first day back from Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione had promised to see him 'very soon,' and the older members of the Order had put quite a fright into Vernon and Petunia, so really, returning to Surrey felt almost tolerable.

As soon as the car had stopped, Harry grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage and lugged them into the house and up the stairs to his room.

He shut his door, then set the cage on his bedside table and uncovered it. Hedwig looked a bit ruffled and irritable - as she often did after a journey - so he opened the cage to let her fly about the room. When she'd done two passes, he coaxed her down with the offer of treats, and she settled on his shoulder where she preened as he stroked her head.

This was the scene Vernon discovered when he walked into the room.

"Look, boy. Petunia may want you to stay, and your freaky friends might have made a few threats, but this is still my house, and I will not have any unnaturalness happening under my roof. Do you understand?"

Turning to face his uncle, Harry noticed with amusement that he must have grown over the course of the year. Vernon no longer towered over him at all; if anything, Harry might even have been the tiniest fraction of an inch taller.

He smirked down at the mustachioed Muggle, who took an unconscious step back.

"That includes that ruddy bird of yours," added Vernon, eyeing both Harry and his owl warily. "I'd better not see her flying about the house, dropping feathers in Petunia's puddings."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hedwig will only fly around at night. And as for anything else - I won't be seventeen for another year and a month. I can't do magic unless I'm attacked." When Vernon started to puff up at this last, Harry cut him off by saying, "And if I am attacked, you'll be glad I'm doing magic to protect all of us. I can assure you of that."

Petunia appeared at the doorway behind her husband, who was turning puce. "I'll have supper ready in a few minutes, darling," she murmured in his ear.

Vernon scowled at Harry again, who simply raised an eyebrow at his uncle.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," said Harry, stepping forward and putting one hand on the door, "I have a letter to write."

The word 'letter' was as effective as a spell, and Vernon jumped back as if burned, his eyes wide. Harry closed the door in his uncle's face without another word.

Ironically, he wasn't even writing to Lupin or Moody or Tonks, although it was nice to see Vernon so terrified at the prospect. No, Harry's thoughts on the drive back from King's Cross had continually drifted toward the conversation he'd had with Luna the night before. By the time he'd arrived at Number Four, he couldn't wait to get quill in hand and write to her.

Smoothing out a sheet of parchment on his desk, Harry found himself at a loss for words. Talking to Luna had made him feel good and calm in a way he hadn't felt in months, much less since Sirius had died. That seemed like a stupid thing to put into a letter, didn't it?

After several minutes of deliberation and shifting about in his chair - during which Hedwig finally gave him up as a bad job and flew off his shoulder back to her cage - Harry finally put quill to parchment.

Dear Luna,

I hope you were able to find all of your things. It was nice talking to you last night. Enjoy your summer.

Harry

It had to be the stupidest letter he'd ever written. He wished he could do better, but his mind kept going blank or swirling into tangents. Her oddly protuberant, unblinking eyes kept swimming into his vision.

With a sigh, Harry rolled and sealed the parchment. It would do.

Hedwig hopped over, obviously eager for a chance to stretch her wings.

'Think she'll write back?" he asked his owl wryly.

Hedwig only blinked impatiently, so Harry tied the scroll to her leg and stood to open the window for her.

He watched her sail out into the night. He realised he didn't even know where Luna lived, or whether she would be home or off on a trip with her father.

Harry smiled and leaned on the sill. There were a lot of worries in his life right now, but worrying about Luna Lovegood was one worry he could handle.