Nowhere Left to Run
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Do I really need to say this every single time?
No one reviewed!!!! L *sniff, sniff* I'm so sad…maybe I should just give this whole thing up. Waaaaaaaah!!!!!!!
Oh well, on with the next chappie! J
Chapter 2: Muggles Beware!
Harry walked downstairs late the next morning, yawning. He entered the breakfast area where the Dursleys ignored him, as usual. He had stayed up until seven o'clock doing homework before he had finally gone back to bed again. The clock now read 9:00. Aunt Petunia was cutting up some various types of fruit for breakfast, as Dudley was still on his diet. The last year of going on a diet didn't seem to have helped Harry's fat, porky cousin Dudley. He was still as huge as ever; he had probably managed somehow to sneak in food. Uncle Vernon was sitting at the breakfast table, reading the newspaper.
Aunt Petunia placed the plates of fruit down in front of each of them, the smallest plate going to Harry, obviously. The television was turned on to the news. Uncle Vernon suddenly spoke up, "More killings last night, Petunia. When are they going to catch this criminal? We can't have dangerous murders wandering the streets, now can we?"
"I know, Vernon. People these days, probably some crazed old loony wandering around just randomly shooting people. Crazy, just like one of them," Aunt Petunia replied, shooting a nasty glance at Harry.
Harry ignored it. Though the Dursleys didn't dare to mistreat him anymore for fear that Sirius, his godfather, would show up and turn them all into bats or something, that didn't mean that they were civil or polite to him. In fact, last summer's blowing up of the fireplace by the Weasleys had made them even more mean-tempered towards Harry. Harry had learned to ignore all the rude comments and nasty glares by now, and was concentrating on finishing his small portion of fruit, so he could go up to his bedroom and have some real food. (He had once again written to all of his friends when he had learned that Dudley's diet would be continuing.)
Suddenly, Aunt Petunia turned up the volume of the TV. "….and this morning, just recently, two more killings near Anderson Parkway. Thirty-five year old Marcia Grundy's and her husband, Donald Grundy's bodies were found in the street today. And here's medical expert Thomas Huisin's report after examining the bodies…"
The TV showed an old man of around fifty with gray hair and a pair of thick glasses. "It seems that this couple, married for already ten years and with two children, had been going on a morning jog. I assume that that was when they were attacked. The strangest thing was that there were no marks on the bodies, no bullet holes, stab wounds, nothing at all! It seems that they were perfectly healthy. All I could tell from the bodies were the fact that they both had expression of intense pain on their faces, as if they had been in a torture chamber, but absolutely nothing had been done to them! No inner wounds, nothing! And one can't feel pain unless something is doing it! The bodies do not make any sense at all!"
The reporter came back on, "Thank you, Dr. Huisin. When will our streets be safe again? And now, for a special report on the stock market…" Aunt Petunia turned the volume down again.
"Hmmph! People these days," said Uncle Vernon, also shooting a nasty glance at Harry. But Harry wasn't paying attention. Another two people! He felt his blood run cold—he was sure it was Lord Voldemort. He was beginning to rise again, his Death Eaters at his side. Of course, he had no proof that it was him, but he felt in his heart that it was.
"May I be excused?" Harry asked, pushing his plate of half eaten fruit away, where Dudley eyed it hungrily, having already finished his plate. Without waiting for a reply, he strolled out of the breakfast area and up the stairs into his room. There he plopped down on his bed, thinking. At least I'm going away tomorrow, Harry thought with relief. The Weasleys had invited him over again and Harry's aunt and uncle had agreed, happy to get rid of him a few weeks early. They had, however, told him firmly that they had better come the normal way this time, or else they wouldn't let him go. Harry had written to the Weasleys about this, and they had agreed, probably remembering the last time they had come to pick up Harry, in the normal way for them. It hadn't turned out well.
Sighing, Harry resigned himself to doing homework for the rest of the day, hoping that tomorrow would come soon.
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HEY PEOPLES!!! I'm done with the second chappie!! YAY! YAY! YAY! I'm sorry if this story is really boring right now, but I promise it'll get better later! One we get past the beginning, I promise the story will get better. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!!!!!!!