Christmas Wishes
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything else I mentioned here.
First attempt at a Harry Potter fan fiction. Please read and (hopefully) review. This is a bit early for Christmas I know but it's the first of December here so I thought I should at least try and write something half decent.
Mr and Mrs Dursley of number 4 Privet Drive were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They lived in a normal house, in a normal neighbourhood and drove a normal car. They had a normal son, Dudley, who went to a normal school, had normal friends and ate normal food. But, if you knew them well, you'd realise that the Dursleys were not actually as normal as you'd think. You see the Dursleys had their nephew, Harry Potter, living with them. Still seem pretty normal to you? The strangest thing about the Dursleys was that, though the house was filled with family photos, there was not a single piece of evidence that another child lived there. There was not even a room for Harry to sleep in, as his room was actually a cupboard under the stairs, or a place for him to eat at the table, he ate on the floor like the freak the Dursleys thought him to be.
On the 24th of December, 1986, as the Dursleys were slouching on the huge lounge in front of the blaring television next to the gigantic Christmas tree which was overflowing with presents, none for Harry of course, one Mr Harry Potter was outside; shovelling snow from the driveway during one of the worst blizzards Little Whinging had ever experienced. As the freezing bullets of ice and snow pelted him from what seemed to be all directions the only thing that kept Harry from collapsing was the billions of blinking lights that decorated the house and the knowledge that, if he didn't have all the snow shovelled by the next morning, his only Christmas present would be the shredded remains of his blanket, which was the one thing that was still his.
Harry had always tried to make the Dursleys like him. He always got top marks in all his classes at school, always did all the jobs he was told to as soon as he possibly could, he even let Dudley beat him up without complaining but they still thought of him as a freak. On Dudley's birthday, they took him and all his bullying friends to the movies, then out to lunch and then let them spend the afternoon playing at the arcade, yet they'd left Harry with their neighbour, Mrs Figg the entire time. Now you see, Harry wasn't about to complain about that at all, Mrs Figg gave him food, let him walk around outside and, if he was lucky, occasionally even watch some television. The only downside to staying with Mrs Figg was her cats, but he was getting off the subject. What mattered was that, although any other people in the world would have thought him amazing for the amount of work he did, the Dursleys still thought of him as useless.
On the last day of school for the term, Harry, along with his entire class, had been sat down so their teacher, Miss Matthews, could give them their presents from her, as she did so she'd explained all about Christmas. How it was to celebrate Christ's birthday, how baby Jesus had been born in a barn so many years before, how Christmas was a time for families to be together and how everyone seemed to be nicer around Christmas. Harry desperately wished that this last fact was true, the Dursleys always were horrible to him, and it didn't matter to them if it was a holiday, he was still a freak. Harry knew that no matter how hard he tried to be good he would still be a useless idiotic freak who was a waste of air to them.
There was only one thing that Harry wanted for Christmas, unfortunately he knew that it was the one thing you couldn't wrap up and put under a tree. All he wanted, all he'd ever wanted, was for someone to take him away from that horrible place. It didn't matter if it was only a social worker sent to take him to a children's home, he didn't even care if it was the police come to take him to prison for a crime he hadn't done, it had to be better than where he was now. Unfortunately one thing Harry knew was that Christmas wishes didn't come true, not for freaks like him at least.
The blizzard kept roaring around Harry, the winds were getting stronger, he felt himself starting to be lifted off his feet. Harry jammed the shovel into the snow and held on as tight as he could but he soon found his fingers slipping. He was flung straight through the air and slammed into Mrs Figg's door. Seemingly hours later, though he had been told it was only seconds, the door was flung open and he felt his slight frame being lifted once more. Harry was laid down on a makeshift mattress in front of one of Mrs Figg's fireplaces and felt someone gently pulling off all the wet outer layers of clothing he'd been wearing until only a singlet and underwear remained before having layers of thick blankets pulled right up to his chin. Then he felt the person, who he was quite sure was Mrs Figg, leave him.
Harry heard muffled conversation in another room followed by the sound of a fireplace raring up. Even though he was next to a roaring fireplace he was still freezing. There was the sound of hurried footsteps followed by the sound of someone dropping to their knees beside me. Harry felt the person put their hand onto my forehead, it was cold and he involuntarily shivered violently as the person let out a curse the likes of which even Dudley would be punished for. Harry's eyes opened slightly and he could make out the blurry figure of a man, it seemed he'd lost his glasses when the wind picked him up. He noticed me stirring and asked in a worried voice, "Harry, did the Dursleys make you shovel snow in the middle of that blizzard?" Harry didn't question how the man knew his name, just nodded; did he really think he'd have been out there if he hadn't had to? "It's okay cub," said the man soothingly, "my name is Remus Lupin and I promise you that you'll never have to go back there ever again."
As Remus sat beside him stroking his hair softly, Harry realised that he'd been proved wrong, Christmas wishes really did come true, and for the first time he could remember, he felt a feeling of contentment wash over him. He'd never be going back to the Dursleys as long as he lived and, even if he woke up and this was all a dream, at least he could have a few hours with someone who actually cared about him. After all, it was Christmas.
So... anyone not hate it? If so, please tell me by pressing the big button towards the bottom of the screen.
Thanks,
Piper