This is the beginning to a hopefully long story. If you have any ideas or suggestions (or just want to say hi), I'd really like to hear from you. E-mail or IM me. Thanks for reading. Oh, if you like coming up with titlesI need some help.
Harry Potter: What a Ham!
The neon tangerine sun hung slightly off-centered in its window frame. The boy lay on his bed staring into it. The youth had beautiful, wild, raven locks. From the open window a gentle wind came and ruffled his hair just enough to expose a bit of the scar beneath his bangs. Skinny legs were crossed at the ankle. Fragile-looking, bony feet were poised in the manner of living sculpture. Deep in thought, he bit his thin, boyish lips. Water began to coat the sclera and cornea of each of his bold, seeking, unblinking forest lullaby eyes. Next to him a piece of parchment, a letter, twitched in the breeze.
Dear Harry,
Ron and I have already spent a bit of the summer together, and it is a good deal more than either one of us wants to spend without you. Of course you must remain at your relatives like Headmaster Dumbledore instructed, but as soon as you get the word, you can expect us. Ginny and I have been getting along very well. It's a good thing, too. The boys are always out playing quidditch or taunting us. We've pulled our fair share of tricks on them (and pretty good ones, I must admit). They'd get Pig in such a state and then send him loose around the house. He'd often get caught in my or Ginny's hair. So we put a spell on the poor little owl and turned him into a sort of homing pigeon. Everytime Ron let him go, even just to send a letter, he'd come flinging right back. It was rather funny, but I suppose you would have to have been there to appreciate it. Take care, Harry.
Hermione
Harry Potter was feeling very lonely and extremely left-out. "I can't wait until this summer's done with," he spoke to Hedwig, his owl, his voice tinged with bitterness. He sat up and examined his toenails for a moment. "Well, feeling sorry for myself won't help much, will it?" Before going downstairs to get a bite, Harry went to his desk and jotted down a quick note for Hedwig to take to The Burrow. She, being a sympathetic creature, gave the boy an affectionate nip prior to setting off and leaving him by himself with the Dursleys.
He reached for the ice cube tray, but it wasn't where it should have been. Harry stuck his head in the freezer and breathed in the icy mist. Hmm. Not there. "What?!"
Stuck to a frozen ham was a photograph; the people in it were moving! Harry tried to peel the picture off the meat but couldn't. He thought about letting it defrost or running it under warm water. However, he heard the rumble of the Dursleys' car in the drive. Harry grabbed the ham, slammed the freezer door, and darted up the stairs into his room.