Chapter IV-
The moment Abi opened her eyes, the lousy feeling that had been plaguing her since the previous afternoon hit her.
It was not quite dawn, and the sky was a cold, hard grey.
She sat up slowly and found to her surprise that she was still fully dressed.
The whole house was still and she could hear her brother snoring in the room next door. He was evidently not being tortured by the guilt that had gotten Abi up so early in the morning
As quietly as she could, she stood up, made her way downstairs and slipped out the back door.
* * *
Harry groaned and opened his eyes. Hedwig had landed on his shoulder and was rubbing her beak affectionately against his ear. She had obviously forgiven him for snubbing her the night before.
He sat up and moved himself over painfully. What had begun as a subconscious feeling of discomfort was turning into an all over body ache. His joints were stiff, his limbs felt like lead, and he was shivering with the cold and damp.
As he shifted around awkwardly on the step, he realised that he was clutching something tightly in his hand-Sirius's letter!
Forgetting his pain for a moment, he uncrumpled the parchment eagerly-only to find that, without his glasses, he could read nothing.
Pulling one of the pieces out of his pocket, squinting in the dull grey light, he read:
'Hey Harry! Safe and in the country! Meet me at Harriet Park at noon.
* * *
Abi wandered around the streets for some time, lost in thought.
Everything about Harry confused her. There was something about him that she just couldn't place.
All she had managed to prise from Dudley was that he was his "loser cousin" who had been dumped on them after his parents died in a car accident. He had been very reluctant to talk about the matter, almost as if he were afraid to.
Dudley's' friends had been almost as little help, saying only that he had been terribly bullied at their primary school and had never made it to secondary. Piers had mentioned something about him being mad and letting snakes out if cages.
Their first meeting had confirmed her expectations of him-introverted, awkward and painfully shy, but the events at and after Dudley's disastrous birthday tea showed that it wasn't quite so clearly cut. He had a secret. That, at least, she could guess.
But it didn't seem likely she would ever find out what that secret was. He would never go near her again and she didn't blame him. The guilt and shame made her stomach writhe.
Her wanderings always took her to the same place. A shabby bench in the corner of a small play park that the desperate council had placed there to try and add a little variation to the monotonous grey houses that dominated the landscape.
The sun had not yet risen and the park was deserted, but as she turned to sit down, she found that somebody had already taken her spot. An old tramp lay flat out on the bench in a very deep but troubled looking sleep. He was dressed in black rags. His hair was long, greasy and matted, and his face and hands were filthy.
She crouched down on her knees beside him. He was definitely not sleeping easily. He writhed around, sweating and occasionally calling out strange words that made no sense to her.
As she looked closer, she found that he was not old at all, perhaps in his mid thirties, but his face, that was often twisted into terrifying expressions of anguish and pain, was sad and showed lines of worry.
She sat with him for some time, wondering whether she should let him sleep on or end his nightmare. Eventually, she decided to try and wake him-it upset her seeing him in so much distress.
It did not take much. She shook him gently on the shoulder and his eyes opened immediately. He looked around, disorientated for a second or so, and then, as he took in Abi, he sat up quickly as if he had been given a fright.
"Sorry for waking you." She said, a little embarrassed. "It's just you looked so."
The man's features relaxed and he smiled weakly.
His eyes were sad, she noticed, almost.haunted looking.
"What.what time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and pushing his long hair back from them.
Abi looked at her watch.
"Half past five."
The man raised his eyebrows.
"Well it's a good thing you did wake me."
Abi was confused, but decided it wasn't a good idea to ask questions.
"Do you mind if I sit down?" she asked.
"Sure." The tramp moved up to give her space. It was unlike him to trust anybody so easily-he had learned from experience that anybody, even those he loved dearest could betray, but something about the girl appealed to him and he said, almost good naturedly:
"What are you doing up so early in the morning?"
Abi's smile faded as she remembered the events of the previous night.
"I couldn't sleep."
"A guilty conscience." He grinned, " Either that or you're in love."
In love. The words swam around her head.
"A little of both I suppose." She sighed. Why not tell him? She would never see him again.
The tramp looked at her expectantly, his head cocked slightly to one side.
"I.I let something happen to somebody, and I should of stopped it.and now they think.now they'll never know that."
The man nodded.
The two were silent for some time, and then the man spoke, looking a little embarrassed:
"You know, it's never a good idea to let things go unsaid. You.you might regret not saying them when it's too late."
* * *
"WHAT THE BLOODY 'ELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING OUT HERE??"
Harry reluctantly opened his eyes.
No sooner had he done so, was he dragged roughly to his feet by an exceptionally purple faced Vernon. The world swam before him and he couldn't think clearly.
"WELL?"
Harry, who stood upright only because Vernon was holding him by the scruff of his neck, tried to gather his thoughts together. He looked about him, dazed, and looked around the Dursleys' neat back garden.
"I.got locked out," Harry said faintly.
"You-" but as he swung his nephew round and looked at his face, he stopped.
"My god, what happened to you?"
Harry looked at him, confused, and then put his hand to his face. He winced as he felt his eye and found dried blood around his nose.
Of course-the handiwork of Dudley and his gang.
Harry shrugged and tried to appear indifferent.
"I fell."
Vernon let go of him. He wobbled uncertainly and had to reach out and cling to the door for support.
" Well.just.just get inside an' clean yourself up!" His uncle commanded, clearly as bewildered as Harry was.
Harry nodded slowly and headed for the bathroom.
The moment Abi opened her eyes, the lousy feeling that had been plaguing her since the previous afternoon hit her.
It was not quite dawn, and the sky was a cold, hard grey.
She sat up slowly and found to her surprise that she was still fully dressed.
The whole house was still and she could hear her brother snoring in the room next door. He was evidently not being tortured by the guilt that had gotten Abi up so early in the morning
As quietly as she could, she stood up, made her way downstairs and slipped out the back door.
* * *
Harry groaned and opened his eyes. Hedwig had landed on his shoulder and was rubbing her beak affectionately against his ear. She had obviously forgiven him for snubbing her the night before.
He sat up and moved himself over painfully. What had begun as a subconscious feeling of discomfort was turning into an all over body ache. His joints were stiff, his limbs felt like lead, and he was shivering with the cold and damp.
As he shifted around awkwardly on the step, he realised that he was clutching something tightly in his hand-Sirius's letter!
Forgetting his pain for a moment, he uncrumpled the parchment eagerly-only to find that, without his glasses, he could read nothing.
Pulling one of the pieces out of his pocket, squinting in the dull grey light, he read:
'Hey Harry! Safe and in the country! Meet me at Harriet Park at noon.
* * *
Abi wandered around the streets for some time, lost in thought.
Everything about Harry confused her. There was something about him that she just couldn't place.
All she had managed to prise from Dudley was that he was his "loser cousin" who had been dumped on them after his parents died in a car accident. He had been very reluctant to talk about the matter, almost as if he were afraid to.
Dudley's' friends had been almost as little help, saying only that he had been terribly bullied at their primary school and had never made it to secondary. Piers had mentioned something about him being mad and letting snakes out if cages.
Their first meeting had confirmed her expectations of him-introverted, awkward and painfully shy, but the events at and after Dudley's disastrous birthday tea showed that it wasn't quite so clearly cut. He had a secret. That, at least, she could guess.
But it didn't seem likely she would ever find out what that secret was. He would never go near her again and she didn't blame him. The guilt and shame made her stomach writhe.
Her wanderings always took her to the same place. A shabby bench in the corner of a small play park that the desperate council had placed there to try and add a little variation to the monotonous grey houses that dominated the landscape.
The sun had not yet risen and the park was deserted, but as she turned to sit down, she found that somebody had already taken her spot. An old tramp lay flat out on the bench in a very deep but troubled looking sleep. He was dressed in black rags. His hair was long, greasy and matted, and his face and hands were filthy.
She crouched down on her knees beside him. He was definitely not sleeping easily. He writhed around, sweating and occasionally calling out strange words that made no sense to her.
As she looked closer, she found that he was not old at all, perhaps in his mid thirties, but his face, that was often twisted into terrifying expressions of anguish and pain, was sad and showed lines of worry.
She sat with him for some time, wondering whether she should let him sleep on or end his nightmare. Eventually, she decided to try and wake him-it upset her seeing him in so much distress.
It did not take much. She shook him gently on the shoulder and his eyes opened immediately. He looked around, disorientated for a second or so, and then, as he took in Abi, he sat up quickly as if he had been given a fright.
"Sorry for waking you." She said, a little embarrassed. "It's just you looked so."
The man's features relaxed and he smiled weakly.
His eyes were sad, she noticed, almost.haunted looking.
"What.what time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and pushing his long hair back from them.
Abi looked at her watch.
"Half past five."
The man raised his eyebrows.
"Well it's a good thing you did wake me."
Abi was confused, but decided it wasn't a good idea to ask questions.
"Do you mind if I sit down?" she asked.
"Sure." The tramp moved up to give her space. It was unlike him to trust anybody so easily-he had learned from experience that anybody, even those he loved dearest could betray, but something about the girl appealed to him and he said, almost good naturedly:
"What are you doing up so early in the morning?"
Abi's smile faded as she remembered the events of the previous night.
"I couldn't sleep."
"A guilty conscience." He grinned, " Either that or you're in love."
In love. The words swam around her head.
"A little of both I suppose." She sighed. Why not tell him? She would never see him again.
The tramp looked at her expectantly, his head cocked slightly to one side.
"I.I let something happen to somebody, and I should of stopped it.and now they think.now they'll never know that."
The man nodded.
The two were silent for some time, and then the man spoke, looking a little embarrassed:
"You know, it's never a good idea to let things go unsaid. You.you might regret not saying them when it's too late."
* * *
"WHAT THE BLOODY 'ELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING OUT HERE??"
Harry reluctantly opened his eyes.
No sooner had he done so, was he dragged roughly to his feet by an exceptionally purple faced Vernon. The world swam before him and he couldn't think clearly.
"WELL?"
Harry, who stood upright only because Vernon was holding him by the scruff of his neck, tried to gather his thoughts together. He looked about him, dazed, and looked around the Dursleys' neat back garden.
"I.got locked out," Harry said faintly.
"You-" but as he swung his nephew round and looked at his face, he stopped.
"My god, what happened to you?"
Harry looked at him, confused, and then put his hand to his face. He winced as he felt his eye and found dried blood around his nose.
Of course-the handiwork of Dudley and his gang.
Harry shrugged and tried to appear indifferent.
"I fell."
Vernon let go of him. He wobbled uncertainly and had to reach out and cling to the door for support.
" Well.just.just get inside an' clean yourself up!" His uncle commanded, clearly as bewildered as Harry was.
Harry nodded slowly and headed for the bathroom.