My first story, hope you like it. Expect new chapters, every..2-3 days? Hectic life, sorry.
Heads or Tails?
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, sat alone, his breathing shallow and his chest sunken. His eyes seemed to have receded back into his skull, their once bright glimmer gone they stared, dead and empty, at the single spot in his roof. The face of his Godfather, Sirius Black stared straight back at him, almost mocking him, blaming him.
He could feel it, Sirius blamed him. That last look at him conveyed all he needed to know. It was his fault, his fault that his last true last living family had died. The knocking started. Turning his head slowly he looked. Petunia shuffled in, a hand instantly coming up to clasp her nose.
"It stinks in here boy! Clean up and for god's sake bathe!"
Her droning voice bored him, but he knew he would have to obey or be beaten. Groaning loudly at the stiffness in his muscle, his body protested as he stood.
The floor creaked quietly under his feet, his frail form shuffling out into the hallway, stopping only to balance himself. The constant stiffness did not help matters, and neither did the long walk to the bathroom. Finally he reached his destination. Slowly opening the door he started to remove his clothes. They hurt to remove, having not been taking off since his arrival, which if his memory served correctly..was around 2 months tomorrow.
The hot steaming water soothed his muscles, allowing them to relax. Climbing out he found a pair of old worn jeans and a black shirt waiting for him on the toilet. Slipping into them he noticed they actually fit him! He looked in the mirror. His wet hair was flat against his head. The towel which now lay on the tiled floor was picked up and placed on his hair. Rubbing it roughly he felt the water dry, removing it he felt natural again. A soft pecking at the small window caught his attention. Opening the window his owl Hedwig flew in, pecking his fingers affectionately.
"Hello girl, have you got something for me?"
The owl hooted softly, almost as if she was answering him. Sticking out her leg proudly he removed the letter. She pecked his fingers once more before flying back out the window. Harry blinked at the letter, why would Gringotts be writing to him? Shuffling once more out of the bathroom, he sat on the old dusty bed, which creaked under his weight, as his eyes scanned the letter. Slowly a small rage built in his eyes before growing. A growl tore itself from his throat.
"DUMBLEDORE!"