Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. I do not own any of the below mentioned characters.
Reviews: Widely welcome. This includes constructive criticism.
Hedwig didn't return until late that night, and when he did he was acting rather strangely.
He dropped an enveloped letter and squirming ball of fur, which turned out to be a mouse, on the desk and perched on Harry's trunk, cocking its head at Harry and fixing him with a stare.
Harry picked up the small gray mouse by its long pink tail, watching as it frantically tried to run away. For a moment, he thought of killing the mouse, perhaps dropping it out the window and watching the poor thing fall to its death. He shook his head, causing his hair to settle over his forehead, barely covering the lightning scar, the only evidence of Voldemort's curse that had failed to finish him so many years ago.
Cupping the mouse in his hands, he opened his door and peered down the hallway. Seeing no one there, he stepped out and inched towards the staircase. Careful to avoid the steps that creaked, Harry slowly made his way down the stairs, passing the living room where Uncle Vernon and Deadly sat eating bowl after bowl of buttered popcorn while watching football and patting each other heartily on the back, and the kitchen where his Aunt Petunia sat, gossiping with a friend about Mrs. Next Door and the Man-Who-Isn't-Her-Husband.
He made it to the front door, kicking aside his cousin Dudley's large expensive sneakers, and opening the door. Kneeling down he began to open his hands, then changed his mind and began to close them around the mouse's neck. It failed its legs at him, struggling for breath, until finally Harry realized what he was doing and let it drop down to the concrete step. It barely had its four limbs on the ground when it scurried away.
Harry sat that way on the doorstep for a long time before he finally blinked and closed the door again.
When he arrived back in his room, Hedwig and his letters to Ron and Hermoine were gone. He sat back on the hard, plastic chair and opened the envelope on which his named was scrawled in the hand writing of his godfather.
Harry,
Remus thought I should drop you a line and see if you were all right.
(The writing began to get messier now, as if he had been mad when writing it.)
Flying the Weasley's car back home? What were you thinking, Harry? Did the events of your second year leave your head completely?
And what did you have to do with that crash the Ministry is trying to clear up? I hear poor Arthur is undergoing another inquiry.
(After this, the writing calmed a bit.)
Have a happy rest of holidays, and keep me informed on how those Muggles are treating you.
Snuggles
Harry smiled at the name at the bottom. Sirus had thought it safer to use a code name when talking of him of exchanging correspondence so that the Ministry wouldn't pick up on where he was and dump him back in Azkaban.
Harry shuddered at the thought of having Sirus taken away from him again.
He looked back at the note and noticed something on the bottom he hadn't seen there before.
PS. See you at Hogwarts.
Harry frowned. What did he mean? Sirus couldn't be walking around Hogwarts, the risk of getting caught would be much to great.
He realized that Sirus would do anything for his safety, but foolishly he thought Sirus was in more danger than himself.
He set the letter back on his desk, leaning back on the chair.
What had been going through his mind when he'd been holding that mouse earlier? Surely he had been imagining the want to harm it. Harry had never felt anything quite like that before.
Forgetting the wobbling leg, Harry leaned back farther in the chair, falling and landing on his backside.
"Settle yourself up there!" Vernon grunted from downstairs.
Harry remained on the floor, kicking the no good chair out from under him and closing his eyes.
Maybe, if he was lucky, he'd fall asleep and wake up just in time to go back to Hogwarts.
Reviews: Widely welcome. This includes constructive criticism.
Hedwig didn't return until late that night, and when he did he was acting rather strangely.
He dropped an enveloped letter and squirming ball of fur, which turned out to be a mouse, on the desk and perched on Harry's trunk, cocking its head at Harry and fixing him with a stare.
Harry picked up the small gray mouse by its long pink tail, watching as it frantically tried to run away. For a moment, he thought of killing the mouse, perhaps dropping it out the window and watching the poor thing fall to its death. He shook his head, causing his hair to settle over his forehead, barely covering the lightning scar, the only evidence of Voldemort's curse that had failed to finish him so many years ago.
Cupping the mouse in his hands, he opened his door and peered down the hallway. Seeing no one there, he stepped out and inched towards the staircase. Careful to avoid the steps that creaked, Harry slowly made his way down the stairs, passing the living room where Uncle Vernon and Deadly sat eating bowl after bowl of buttered popcorn while watching football and patting each other heartily on the back, and the kitchen where his Aunt Petunia sat, gossiping with a friend about Mrs. Next Door and the Man-Who-Isn't-Her-Husband.
He made it to the front door, kicking aside his cousin Dudley's large expensive sneakers, and opening the door. Kneeling down he began to open his hands, then changed his mind and began to close them around the mouse's neck. It failed its legs at him, struggling for breath, until finally Harry realized what he was doing and let it drop down to the concrete step. It barely had its four limbs on the ground when it scurried away.
Harry sat that way on the doorstep for a long time before he finally blinked and closed the door again.
When he arrived back in his room, Hedwig and his letters to Ron and Hermoine were gone. He sat back on the hard, plastic chair and opened the envelope on which his named was scrawled in the hand writing of his godfather.
Harry,
Remus thought I should drop you a line and see if you were all right.
(The writing began to get messier now, as if he had been mad when writing it.)
Flying the Weasley's car back home? What were you thinking, Harry? Did the events of your second year leave your head completely?
And what did you have to do with that crash the Ministry is trying to clear up? I hear poor Arthur is undergoing another inquiry.
(After this, the writing calmed a bit.)
Have a happy rest of holidays, and keep me informed on how those Muggles are treating you.
Snuggles
Harry smiled at the name at the bottom. Sirus had thought it safer to use a code name when talking of him of exchanging correspondence so that the Ministry wouldn't pick up on where he was and dump him back in Azkaban.
Harry shuddered at the thought of having Sirus taken away from him again.
He looked back at the note and noticed something on the bottom he hadn't seen there before.
PS. See you at Hogwarts.
Harry frowned. What did he mean? Sirus couldn't be walking around Hogwarts, the risk of getting caught would be much to great.
He realized that Sirus would do anything for his safety, but foolishly he thought Sirus was in more danger than himself.
He set the letter back on his desk, leaning back on the chair.
What had been going through his mind when he'd been holding that mouse earlier? Surely he had been imagining the want to harm it. Harry had never felt anything quite like that before.
Forgetting the wobbling leg, Harry leaned back farther in the chair, falling and landing on his backside.
"Settle yourself up there!" Vernon grunted from downstairs.
Harry remained on the floor, kicking the no good chair out from under him and closing his eyes.
Maybe, if he was lucky, he'd fall asleep and wake up just in time to go back to Hogwarts.
