Harry's Horrible Summer – Chapter 2 – London
Disclaimer – I don't own Harry Potter
A/N – This story has no pre-considered plot whatsoever, so, because it evolves as I write, reviews can really help me along. Also, updates will be sporadic.
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Harry sat down on the park bench, looking warily at a few other forms barely visible in the moonlight. He was sitting in a park somewhere in London. He sighed and opened his trunk. He took out a couple of robes and managed to form them into a barely passable sleeping arrangement on the bench.
He sighed. Loudly. He had no money, no map, and no way to contact the Wizarding world, not to mention the fact that it was his birthday. Happy Birthday to me, he thought miserably to himself. Harry grabbed the plastic bag he had found the day before. He had been staying near the park for approximately twenty-four hours now. He had scrounged through some trash bins for something edible but hadn't had much luck. All he had found was half a carton of take out noodles. He opened it up, took a few small bites, carefully rationing his food, and put it back in the plastic bag.
Harry pulled his cloak tighter around him and stared out of the park. The landscaping was worse than Aunt Petunia's garden, which was really saying something. He could hear the cars driving by outside the park – late night traffic. He was too restless too sleep so he got up, gathered his stuff, and started walking.
Harry passed through an ugly concrete and metal archway, emerging into a dimly lit deserted street. He started walking. The restaurants were closed, the trash bins full. His stomach growled (or, rather, some air passed through his intestines). Maybe he would find some food in them.
He started walking toward them. Suddenly, the street was lit up. Am I hallucinating? Harry wondered. He turned and looked behind him straight into the headlights of a car. He stumbled and as his eyes started widening in realization, he quickly started running toward the side of the street. Harry apparently had some luck, but not enough, as the car kept coming towards him, the driver talking on his cell phone and not noticing the boy in his path.
The car didn't hit Harry full on but merely went over his leg with a loud screech. The driver had suddenly realized what had happened, and in fear of feeling guilt or being charged with hospital bills had continued driving down the street, speeding up until Harry could no longer have spotted the rear lights on the car if he had tried to spot them.
Harry was, in fact, not trying to look at the car. He had more pressing issues to deal with such as the fact that he had been abandoned in the park without sufficient supplies and that his leg was broken, bleeding, and, indeed, very severely injured. His eyes were clouding over in pain as he fought to keep from screaming. I will not scream and let someone – maybe a Death Eater – know that I am here, he told himself sternly and then laughed harshly to himself.
"Why would anyone hear me anyway? There's no one around!" Harry crawled onto the sidewalk wearily, jarring his leg more than once. He found some thin cardboard in the trash bin and fashioned it into a crutch within the next fifteen minutes, moving very, vvveeeeerrrryyyyy slowly. He used it to stand up and managed to find a semblance of balance. Wincing in pain, he turned around and shrieked in horror and he stared into the red eyes of …
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