Harry Potter was calm. Totally and utterly calm. He smiled to himself as he felt the morning sunshine hit his face, and snuggled into the warmth of his bedding. He was just slipping back into the dream realm when he heard the sound of something hitting his window. It sounded like little pebbles colliding with the glass. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Opening his eyes, he rolled over, seeing only blurs. Stretching his arm out, his hands grasped the cool metal of his wire glass. Sliding them up the bridge of his nose, Harry sat up, sighing as he knew his day had to start.
He glanced at the clock, noticing it only said 6:03. None of the Dursleys were awake before seven in the summer. Even Vernon didn't go into work until 8:30. He turned towards the window, and saw an unfamilar owl waiting for him to open it.
Harry sighed before letting the owl in, going straight for the letter tied to its leg. The owl, it seemed, had other ideas. It flew around, knocking into the wall and other things, causing a rackus. As soon as Harry caught the owl, he held a baited breath, waiting for the monsterous footsteps of his uncle. After hearing none, Harry took the letter, and stuffed the owl into Hedwig's cage, who was still out flying.
Untying the letter, he immediatly recongized Hermione's handwriting.
Harry,
Sorry about Curbin. He guessed that was the owl.
He was sort of a welcome home present from my parents, but i do not know why they would pick such and unruly owl.
But my new owl ownership status is not why i wrote you this letter. next week, my family and i will be going on our usual family trip to the Granger Island. This year, since my cousins are not coming, my parents decided i could invite a friend. I was wondering if you would like to come.
With love,
Hermione.
Smiling to himself, Harry quickly scribbled a reply, and sent it off with the energetic owl, before starting the rest of his day.
...
Hermione sat down in her bedroom chair as the tears rolled down her face.
She put her head in her hands, trying to stop herself. She did not understand why she was sad, all she knew was that there was a never-ending cold of sorrow above her. She sighed a shaky breath.
Staring down at her leg, she grew ashamed. The blood ran down her thigh, and then past her knee. She was so sick of herself, her body, everything about her.
The newly opened wounds on her leg bled steadily onto the floor, soon creating a small puddle. She sighed as she held a warm rag to it.
Hearing a soft tapping noise Hermione stood up, and let her owl in, ignoring the sting coming from her thigh.
Unattaching the letter, she smiled, even though there were tears rolling down her face.
She always hated to say goodbye.
...
I do not own HP.
This is my story, and i'm quite proud of where its going. I will update all my stories soon.
Review.