Written for Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

House: Thunderbird

Class: Creatures

Task Number: Natural habitats and their unlawful occupation by wizards: forcefully taking something from someone

Word Count: 1576/4500

My One Connection

The music box was his only connection to the little girl who'd decided they were friends.

Harry had never been very confident in his skills to talk to girls — in fact, he wasn't confident in talking to anyone — but when he had seen the brunette crying under the tree in the park the Dursleys had been forced to bring him to, he had been filled with a strange sense of confidence.

He had walked over to her and asked, "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

The girl had sniffled as she'd wiped her face with a small handkerchief. She'd looked at him solemnly with large brown eyes and whispered, "I can't find my Mummy and Daddy."

Harry had instantly decided to help her, unable to see the tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'll stay with you until we find your Mummy and Daddy."

"I'm Hermione," she'd introduced herself, offering him her trembling hand.

He had almost introduced himself as 'freak' as that was what the Dursleys called him, but then he'd remembered the name the teachers had called him when he went to class last week. He said, "My name's Harry."

She'd given him a small smile, and together they'd searched for her parents in the dense crowd gathered in the park.

And when they'd finally found her parents, Hermione had placed a music box in his hand and said, "Here, I want you to have this. It's my favourite music box — I can't even remember how long I've had this!"

"You're giving it to me? Why?" Harry had been bewildered as to why someone would give him something; he'd never received an actual present before.

"Because you're my friend now," the seven-year-old girl had replied in a matter-of-fact tone, and Harry's heart had started to pound furiously against his ribs.

"Friend?"

"Of course! I lost my Mummy and Daddy, and you helped me get back to them! So... we're friends now," she had declared, beaming at him. Harry had fallen in love with her smile; it was the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

"We're friends," he had whispered, staring down at the music box in his hands. "I'll always keep this with me. I promise..."

Her smile had lit her face up brighter than the sun, and Harry had felt his little heart jump into his throat at the sight. He'd never seen a more beautiful smile — even with her upper teeth protruding over her lower lip, she had a glorious smile.

She'd thrown herself at him, her arms winding tightly around his shoulders, almost smothering him with her bushy hair, and Harry's heart had thundered against his ribs at the first positive physical touch he had ever received. He was in heaven.

He'd watched her leave the park with her parents, and his heart fell at the realization that he'd never see her again. At least he had spent forty whole minutes with her — forty minutes of listening to her non-stop chatter about how beautiful the park was, how much she liked reading, what books she'd read recently, and so on. She'd even called him her friend — a term which caused Harry to smile goofily every time he thought of it.

He had returned to the Dursleys' house and slipped into the cupboard under the stairs. As he had gazed at the music box, Harry had instantly fallen in love with its simplicity — and the beautiful brunette ballerina that stood on top of it.

He had been lost in his musings over the doll's origins when he overheard Dudley barge into the house. He had quickly shoved the box into the hidey-hole he'd made for it, not wanting Dudley to find it. He had known that if Dudley found out, he wouldn't just mock him for it; he'd also take the figurine from him.

Soon, Harry became obsessed with the music box and began to carry it everywhere he went. He started to hold it against his chest as he slept, the little ballerina his only source of comfort in the cold and lonely nights. He was very careful to not let the Dursleys know about his music box, often hiding it whenever they were near, but his luck soon ran out.

As he sat under the large oak tree, his finger tenderly stroking the ballerina's cheek. The little ballerina figurine was gorgeous, and Harry wondered if he'd ever see his friend again. He caressed the small head lovingly, smiling as it gently bobbed up and down. He was so lost in his musings that he didn't hear Dudley and his gang sneak up behind him.

Just then, Dudley extended his hand and snatched the ballerina right out of Harry's hands. Harry startled at the sudden action and cried, "Give it back!"

"Oh, ho, ho! What's this? What have we got here, freak?" Dudley taunted as he turned the music box over in his hands to inspect it. "A music box? You're such a sissy! Where did you steal it, thief? Mum and Dad are going to punish you!"

"I didn't steal it!" Harry cried, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't tell Dudley it had been a gift from a girl; he would never get it back otherwise. "Give it back, Dudley! It's mine!"

"Yours? Ha!" The boys all laughed at Harry's pleading and ignored it. Harry continued to beg Dudley to give it back to him, but Dudley refused. "You want it? Well, come and get it, freak!" He dangled the ballerina in front of Harry's face.

Poor Harry had no choice but to lunge for it, but Dudley was bigger and stronger. He laughed heartily as he tossed the music box over Harry's head. Piers Polkiss, Dudley's best friend, grinned as he caught it. The four boys howled with laughter as they continued to play 'catch' with the music box over Harry's head, and Harry tried to jump up and catch it but to no avail.

And then, Piers tossed the music box towards Dudley, and Dudley purposely took a step back, letting the music box crash onto the ground. "Oops," he taunted, not even looking sorry for what he'd done.

Tears pooled in Harry's eyes as he fell to his knees. He tried to pick up the broken shards of his ballerina, and Dudley and his gang ridiculed him as they left to pick on someone else. Harry didn't realize his hands were bleeding as he continued his failed attempts at fixing the ballerina.

When he'd received the music box, it hadn't worked, but the ballerina had become his life. She was his best friend, reminding him of the only girl who'd ever shown any compassion to him. His hands trembled as he tried to mend her, but it was just as broken as his little heart.

Harry had never hated Dudley for everything he'd ever done to him before, but now as he pocketed the ballerina's intact head, utter hatred coursed through his veins. He would never forgive Dudley for what he'd done. Dudley had broken the only thing Harry had ever loved — the one thing which reminded him that there was someone out there who considered him to be a friend.

"Hey, Harry, what's this?" Ron asked, carefully picking up the ballerina's head Harry had saved all those years ago.

Peter Pettigrew had once again betrayed someone; this time, he had betrayed Voldemort himself, and the war was concluded before it even began. Sirius had been exonerated for his supposed-crimes while Peter was sentenced to Azkaban, and Harry was finally going to live with his godfather. Harry and his friends were in Number 4, Privet Drive, packing his meagre belongings to take to Grimmauld Place.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at Ron, and his eyes widened. "Oh! Don't touch that!" He lunged for the head and began to caress its cheek softly.

"Uh, mate, you're scaring me," Ron said worriedly.

"Did it fall out of my pocket?" Harry demanded, his fingers running over the head to make sure it wasn't damaged even further.

"I don't know… I found it on the ground," Ron said, silently motioning to Hermione to come over.

Harry nodded and continued to wipe the ballerina's head. He'd kept the head concealed all throughout the years, never letting it leave his sight. It was his one connection to his first friend, and he was reluctant to let go of it.

Hermione entered the room, wiping her hands on her jeans, and saw the head in Harry's hands. "Oh, where did you get that?"

Harry stiffened and said carefully, "It was a… gift."

Hermione stared at the figurine's head and said, "Oh… I had a music box once… There was a ballerina on top of it — it looks just like her…"

"What happened to it?" Ron inquired curiously. Harry glanced up at Hermione, interested in her answer.

"I gave it to a friend. There was this boy I met —"

"In a park where you lost your parents…" Harry completed for her, his heart soaring with delight when he saw Hermione's eyes widen with each word.

"Yes! How did you — Oh, Merlin! It was you, Harry?" Hermione covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes sparkling with glee.

"I hadn't realized it until now, but yes," Harry whispered, walking closer to her. Hermione beamed as she threw her arms around his shoulders, hugging him just as strongly as she had done almost a decade ago. Harry's heart finally found peace.

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