Let Me Be
by Lorelai
Harry was sleeping that windy, September night. The moon was shining brightly overhead. A few clouds drifted across the night sky, making a hazy veil over the light of the moon. A whirl of wind whipped by the street, sending browning leaves flying into the darkness. A dark, silent figure crept over the horizon, just like the sun in the morning. But it was anything but warm and sunny.
A shadow of fear and cold swept over the neighborhood as the figure slid on toward a small, rickety house beside an empty lot. The small, frail house shook in the wind, as if it would collapse any second. The figure paused in front of the house for a moment, as if inspecting it. The house was wooden, with peeling grey paint and a very rickety front porch. It had two stories; on the second story, a dim, yellow light lit the window. The figure carefully stepped up to the door and over the creaking, protesting floorboards. With a small flicker of it's wand, the door creaked open slowly.
Outside, large, grey clouds moved fast and silently, shrouding the moon and slowly closing over the glowing globe in the sky. Swirling clouds covered it and a shadow was cast over the neighborhood. With no warning, a downpour was suddenly released. The rain pounded on the roof shingles and cascaded onto the street.
The figure stepped slowly inside the house, moving silently. The figure slid around to the stairs and climbed up. It ascended to a long, dimly- lighted hallway. The figure looked for the light. It came from a small, lighted room. He slowly moved over to the doorway. As it moved closer, talking was heard.
A feminine, warm, voice was speaking. " Harry? Honey, get to sleep."
Another, lower, male voice spoke up. " Maybe I should get that Sleeping Draft downstairs. After all, you did make it."
A high, tinkling laugh could be heard. " James! You know I'm not so good at Potions."
The figure paused. There was movement inside the room. The figure disguised himself in the shadows and a second later, a tall man stepped out of the room with untidy black hair and glasses. He strode down the hall and went down the stairs. Sounds of rummaging around could be heard.
A moment later, a young woman stepped out of the room. She was red-haired and had green eyes. She held a baby in her arms. The figure slowly bent forward to inspect the baby. It had the same black hair as its father. But bright green eyes made clear who the mother was.
Suddenly, the mother noticed the figure. " Ahh! James! James! It's Him!" She screamed with horror. She took three steps back from the figure, hugging the baby to her chest.
The man ran upstairs and into the hall. At once, he fastened his eyes upon his family, then upon the hooded figure. " Careful, Lily," he breathed, keeping his eyes upon the figure. The young woman crept back to the room, a fearful look on her face.
" I came not for you," the figure spoke for the first time. " What do you want then?" said the man suspiciously.
" The boy. I want the boy. Give him to me." the figure said in a low, raspy voice.
The man shook his head decisively. " Not Harry. Never Harry. Take me instead."
The figure laughed, a high, chilling laugh. " No, James. I don't want you. I just want the boy." The man set his face and he pointed a wand at the figure.
" Avolovus!" He shouted and a cloud of silver smoke emerged suddenly, shieiding the man and his family from the hooded figure. The man ran, taking his wife and child with him. They ran downstairs and into the living room. The man strode up to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of glittering powder. He sprinkled some into the fire and the flames turned a gleaming emerald green.
He shoved his child and wife into the flames and the woman shouted. " Avalon!" They vanished in a puff of smoke and seconds later, the man jumped inside himself.
He too shouted, " Avalon!" The man disappeared just as the figure walked up to the fireplace.
The figure hissed hatefully. " You might have gotten off easy this time, James Potter. But you know this will not be the case next time." With those words and a swish of his cloak, the figure disappeared in a pop. The house was then left empty.
The fire still burned on and on...and on. Just before the first rays of dawn lit up the room, the fire died out, leaving behind flicking embers in cold ash.
With a jolt, Harry woke up. " Oh, goodness,"
He had been having these dreams more frequently these days. He wiped his forehead, covered in sweat. He hugged the covers close to him and stared out the small window of his broom cupboard. He could see a black sky blanketed with glittering stars.
A gleaming bright moon he saw. He hugged his knees closer to his chest. He ran a hand through the wild, untamed black hair he inherited from his father. When he looked at the cracked mirror hung on the wall, he could see his bright green eyes his mother gave him.
But now they're dead. He thought bitterly. Life had to take away everything I had, He thought. And now I have to live with my crummy aunt and uncle and Dudley. Ugh. Why can't they just let me be? Why? Let me be, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. Let me be.