A/N: A scene from just after Harry was left in the yard. I try to give some context to let you know when it's happening.
disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter books, world, characters, etc. Not me.
Scene 1:
At the end of his rope, quite literally, he groaned (and then winced at the painful shock) in frustration at his impossible predicament. Angry and feeling powerless, he kicked the side of the garage, but only received a sore toe for his efforts. Eventually, he went back to his doghouse, curled up, and went to sleep.
xxXxx
So the next day, Harry listened to the kids playing and the adults talking from his corner of the yard. He had situated himself as far towards the back of the yard as he could go, closer to the gap by the shed, and sat in the slim sliver of cool shade the fence provided with his head resting against the wooden slats. He watched the crack between the fence and the shed with slitted eyes, hardly daring to hope that someone might venture close enough to the shed to see him. Surely, if a neighbor or someone saw him, they would rescue him, wouldn't they? He wasn't sure, but he thought they might.
Suddenly, he heard the voices of two kids nearby. He opened his eyes fully, and thought he might be able to just make out someone's arm through the shovels and rakes that had been piled against the fence. He scrambled to his feet and considered calling out, but winced and discarded that idea at the memory of the painful shock. He looked around for something he could make noise with, but could come up with nothing but knocking on the fence, which turned out to be too quiet.
Harry was just beginning to despair when he heard the the clinking of metal and wood, and glanced over to see the shovels shifting. He stood with his heart in his throat, thinking, just a little farther…
And then he heard Uncle Vernon's voice scolding the kids, and the rustling of the shovels and rakes stopped. The voices retreated, and he sank back to the ground.
He stayed that way for a long while, despair clouding his mind. He grew thirsty as the sun moved and his shade shrank, and his mouth began to water when he smelled Uncle Vernon's grilling. He wished that he could at least have some water from the spigot, as he had the last few days, but it was all the way on the other side of the garage under the kitchen window, and completely out of his reach.
Suddenly feeling a renewed anger and a burning restlessness, he stood back up and began pacing the perimeter of where he was confined. …
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please please please review! Seriously, take 2 seconds to click that review button! Even if it's been a while since I posted this by the time you read it - it's still encouraging!
