Harry Potter and the Stalkers of the Night
Disclaimer- I own absolutely nothing from the Harry Potter franchise. The only things that are mine are the storyline along with some original characters.
Black. Never in Harry's life on Privet Drive did he remember a night so dark as this one. Usually the sky was a certain shade of dark blue with a violet glow due to the street lamps of civilization. But not tonight. Harry looked out of his window and couldn't see an ounce of glow, nor a single star in the sky. Searching now, Harry couldn't even find the moon; it was almost as though they had all given up hope and left for another village.
Harry sighed as he retreated back to his bed. He laid down on top of the covers as he fingered the empty space beside him like a man waiting for his lover to return. 'Lover' he thought, 'Right'.
He closed his eyes, noting how little difference it produced. Through his eyelids, the faint red glow of his alarm clock annoyed and kept him from sleeping. His alarm clock! Harry's eyes shot open to look at the time. 3:33 AM. He was officially seventeen for over three hours yet he felt no change. He actually expected something this time: a surge of power or maybe a feeling of loss as the charm lifted from the Dursleys'. This was supposed to be his salvation: the defining moment where he could renounce all ties with the muggle world… and nothing.
Harry was shaken out of his reverie by a dull roar in the distance. Not the roar of an animal but that of a machine. Harry silently prayed it wasn't Fred or George who have come for a jailbreak.
Tap… tap… tap!
Harry looked around, wondering what could possibly be making that sound. His eyes scanned across the room: dresser, desk, window, Hedwig's empty cage… the window. He walked over towards the ledge and looked down.
Ron Weasley himself was looking up at him, his arm at the ready with another stone. Harry shook his head and opened the window.
"Sorry, Romeo, but I don't swing that way."
Ron gave Harry a look and said "You wish, Potter. C'mon, Hermione has the car down the road. Let's go!"
Harry receded into the bedroom and hurriedly looked around. He wasn't expecting this impromptu emigration. The thoughts and feelings running through his being were dizzying enough to make him have to grab the footboard of his bed to steady himself.
Finally he packed up his trunk with various books and clothes. On top lay the framed photograph of his parents dancing and waving in that winter park. Harry was about to close his trunk and charm it out the window when a thought occurred to him: he was never going to see the Dursleys again. A part of him rejoiced at the mere thought of it. Though he was downright itching to leave this place and never look back, he felt that he should give the Dursleys some kind of notice. He ripped a sheet of paper from a notebook and quickly drafted a note.
The trunk was packed and charmed down to the boot of Hermione's car. He crawled out of the window and began the slow descent down the ivy growing upon the side of the house. The summer wind began to pick up as the two bright eyes of Hermione's car opened up and glared at the Dursley house. Harry and Ron got into the car as they pulled away from Harry's old life.
Within the bedroom, the wind started to make the sheets and blankets dance. The note flew from its position on the desk to the bed as it opened up to let the whole world see its message.
Goodbye