SNOWFLAKE MAGIC
Disclaimer: This does not belong to me.
Dear Ron,
How are you? I'm not too bad apart from the obvious…
Harry Potter screwed the piece of parchment into a ball, frustrated.
Dear Ron,
Don't worry about me- I'm as well as I can possibly be…
Dear Ron,
I hope you're having a better summer than I am…
Harry threw his quill down in irritation. Why couldn't he find the right words? He didn't want the Weasleys, in his opinion some of the nicest people in the world, to worry about him. But yet he couldn't bring himself to pretend that everything was fine and dandy when he'd never felt more miserable in his life.
Sirius was dead… gone forever. And it was Harry's fault. If he hadn't been so stupid Sirius would still be alive. If that weren't enough, there was the prophecy. He didn't have the heart to tell his friends… no, it was better that they didn't know. For he had discovered that he either had to kill or be killed. His destiny was victim or murderer. He kept looking at his hands- were these the hands of a potential murderer? Sure, it was Voldemort, but Harry didn't want his life to include murder- or end with it. But there was no other way… no other option. He swore aloud. Why me? Why does my life always have to be stuffed up by death and awful prophecies?
Also weighing guilty on his conscience was the realisation that his parents were dead because of him. If it hadn't been for Harry, Voldemort never would have come after the Potters. Harry's parents would have still been alive.
Harry thought anxiously to his trip to the Burrow that would happen in a few days… or would it be 12 Grimmauld Place? Either way, it would be great to get away from Privet Drive. Although this summer the Dursleys had been much less bothersome to Harry; he supposed the Order had to scared them into a sort of indifference. Most of the time, they left Harry alone. This was wonderful, but without the myriad chores, Harry was often left with nothing to do except dwell on his melancholy thoughts.
Harry crossed the room absent-mindedly to the shelves filled with Dudley's broken toys.
He picked up a dust covered, cracked, snow globe. He peered inside vaguely. Reindeer stood on the roof of a house. He shook the globe up and placed it back on the shelf.
What he really needed, Harry realised was someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn't panic like Hermione and someone who wouldn't be completely confused like Ron. But now Sirius was dead, there was no one.
He flopped on his bed and closed his eyes, wishing with all his might that such a person existed. Not long after he fell into a deep dreamless sleep.
Had he been awake, he would have realised that the snow in the snow globe was still spinning. Whirling uncontrollably and glowing in a magical way.
A/N Thank you for reading. I hope u enjoyed it. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. To everybody else… tell me what you think