"Harry?" Lacci asked, reaching over and poking him in the shoulder. "Harry, are you alive?"
Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Lacci. She no longer had the bruises and the blood. Her face was full and happy and alive, without a scar nor scratch upon it. Her hair was still green, although now Harry could see that it wasn't dark slimy green. It was a happy lime green color, and the back was brown fuzz, about an inch and a half long. If her head was turned the right way, she'd resemble a shrubbery. Her skin was now slightly tanned instead of pale while, and she wasn't as thin as a twig. She was actually fairly attractive.
"Mrrrrrr?" Harry asked, finding that he couldn't get up. "Wha deedo?"
Harry surprised himself. He was speaking in a different language! He was speaking in Lacci's language. And he understood it. Lacci gave him a strange look.
"Well, at least you're all right. Here, let me help you up. That was quite a nasty fall. I told you not to go running around like that, it's dangerous." Lacci's voice was lower than her normal happy squeek, and it was flooded with concern and worry.
Harry tried to stand up, with her pulling on his shoulders. He tried to say 'no, I'm fine,' but it came out, "Na, eer tin!" He felt fine and healthy. But he felt as heavy as a giant iron bar. He found that he couldn't stand up. Lacci pulled him up and flung him over her shoulder.
"Now look, you are not fine. Your legs are probably broken in at least five places and your head is bleeding. Now stop thrashing about, I'm going to get you some help!" Lacci sounded patient but annyed. In fact, she was acting a lot like Harry did towards her.
Harry wanted to object, but he felt as though Lacci knew what she was doing. Surely she was more experienced in this, she could make it all better. But harry wanted to dance, he wanted to run around and play, he wanted to be free while he had the chance...
"Spurgen spong-flop."
Lacci adjusted her shoulder a bit. "Is that better?" she asked. Harry nodded, and fell asleep.
He woke up again in a white room. there were white sheet and white everything else. In the middle of it all was a girl in black robes. She had a scar on her forehead, much like Harry's. Actually, it was exactly like Harry's. She walked up to Harry and kissed his forehead. He opened his eyes to get a better view of this girl. He woke up.
Harry found himself staring at the ceiling of his room in the Dursley's home, number 4 Privet Drive. He didn't move, he just sat and stared. That was certainly a strange dream, he thought to himself. It wasn't as bad as dreams he had had before. But it was strange. It looked like he and Lacci had switched places. He kept remembering the feeling of admiration and dependance towards Lacci, that pure confidence that she would know what to do and everything would be allright around her. Did Lacci really think that way towards Harry?
Moonlight poured in through Harry's window, hitting a small figure on the floor, curled up in a bunch of clothes, wrapped in a dirtied straight jacket. The blue light cast strange shadows behind her, ones that didn't quite seem to fit the object the were cast off of. Harry stood up and walked over to the window, blocking the light. It was a full moon. He turned his head to look at Lacci, and smiled to himself. Well, he thought, at least I know she isn't a werewolf.
Harry opened the window, and pulled a chair up to it. He sat at his window, staring out at the brilliantly lit night sky, the perfectly built houses all along the calm little street, the trees scattered along the edges of the road, growing like nobody's business. The blue moonlight was interrupted by the orange of the street lamps below. Harry looked up at the black and purple of the sky and began looking for constellations.
After about a half an hour of sitting at his window, Harry began to wonder. Then he said aloud, quietly and to himself, "Why and I waiting for Hedwig to return? I told her not to. I guess I just miss contact with normal people." Harry shut the window and went back to his bed. He looked at his clock. 3:46 AM. He moaned and rolled over, not bothering to take off his glasses as he went to sleep.
A hurt whimper came from the pile of clothing in the corner, and Lacci shut her eyes. Normal people.
Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Lacci. She no longer had the bruises and the blood. Her face was full and happy and alive, without a scar nor scratch upon it. Her hair was still green, although now Harry could see that it wasn't dark slimy green. It was a happy lime green color, and the back was brown fuzz, about an inch and a half long. If her head was turned the right way, she'd resemble a shrubbery. Her skin was now slightly tanned instead of pale while, and she wasn't as thin as a twig. She was actually fairly attractive.
"Mrrrrrr?" Harry asked, finding that he couldn't get up. "Wha deedo?"
Harry surprised himself. He was speaking in a different language! He was speaking in Lacci's language. And he understood it. Lacci gave him a strange look.
"Well, at least you're all right. Here, let me help you up. That was quite a nasty fall. I told you not to go running around like that, it's dangerous." Lacci's voice was lower than her normal happy squeek, and it was flooded with concern and worry.
Harry tried to stand up, with her pulling on his shoulders. He tried to say 'no, I'm fine,' but it came out, "Na, eer tin!" He felt fine and healthy. But he felt as heavy as a giant iron bar. He found that he couldn't stand up. Lacci pulled him up and flung him over her shoulder.
"Now look, you are not fine. Your legs are probably broken in at least five places and your head is bleeding. Now stop thrashing about, I'm going to get you some help!" Lacci sounded patient but annyed. In fact, she was acting a lot like Harry did towards her.
Harry wanted to object, but he felt as though Lacci knew what she was doing. Surely she was more experienced in this, she could make it all better. But harry wanted to dance, he wanted to run around and play, he wanted to be free while he had the chance...
"Spurgen spong-flop."
Lacci adjusted her shoulder a bit. "Is that better?" she asked. Harry nodded, and fell asleep.
He woke up again in a white room. there were white sheet and white everything else. In the middle of it all was a girl in black robes. She had a scar on her forehead, much like Harry's. Actually, it was exactly like Harry's. She walked up to Harry and kissed his forehead. He opened his eyes to get a better view of this girl. He woke up.
Harry found himself staring at the ceiling of his room in the Dursley's home, number 4 Privet Drive. He didn't move, he just sat and stared. That was certainly a strange dream, he thought to himself. It wasn't as bad as dreams he had had before. But it was strange. It looked like he and Lacci had switched places. He kept remembering the feeling of admiration and dependance towards Lacci, that pure confidence that she would know what to do and everything would be allright around her. Did Lacci really think that way towards Harry?
Moonlight poured in through Harry's window, hitting a small figure on the floor, curled up in a bunch of clothes, wrapped in a dirtied straight jacket. The blue light cast strange shadows behind her, ones that didn't quite seem to fit the object the were cast off of. Harry stood up and walked over to the window, blocking the light. It was a full moon. He turned his head to look at Lacci, and smiled to himself. Well, he thought, at least I know she isn't a werewolf.
Harry opened the window, and pulled a chair up to it. He sat at his window, staring out at the brilliantly lit night sky, the perfectly built houses all along the calm little street, the trees scattered along the edges of the road, growing like nobody's business. The blue moonlight was interrupted by the orange of the street lamps below. Harry looked up at the black and purple of the sky and began looking for constellations.
After about a half an hour of sitting at his window, Harry began to wonder. Then he said aloud, quietly and to himself, "Why and I waiting for Hedwig to return? I told her not to. I guess I just miss contact with normal people." Harry shut the window and went back to his bed. He looked at his clock. 3:46 AM. He moaned and rolled over, not bothering to take off his glasses as he went to sleep.
A hurt whimper came from the pile of clothing in the corner, and Lacci shut her eyes. Normal people.