Harry Potter sat by his open window, staring at the full moon outside. He
wore a thoughtful look, as well as a pair of pyjamas which would have fit a
hippopotamus and which sagged bleakly on his long, thin frame. His rumpled
hair did not cover the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. Voices and
shadowy figures ran through his mind.
"Not Harry, please no!" A beautiful young woman with frightened green eyes.
"Lily, go! Get out of here, I can handle it!" A tall, untidily groomed man, frantic.
"Dunno if there was enough human left in him to die." A suspicious giant.
"Oh, Harry, but what if You-Know-Who's going to come back and get you?" Freckles on a redheaded boy, bushy hair on a brunette girl, both wearing expressions of anxiety.
"The Dark Lord will rise again." An eerie witch, sitting by a crystal ball.
"You'll be next, Mudbloods!" A malicious, pale-faced boy.
"Kill the spare." A high, cold voice from an unseen evil presence.
Harry sat in silent reflection for some time. The sounds and shapes gradually faded away. Staring out over the empty street, he observed, looking between some houses, that a light was still on in one of the windows across the way, but thought nothing of it. The house's resident probably had insomnia or something. Harry spied a fluffy snowy owl flying towards him. It was his pet, Hedwig, who presently swooped through the window and perched atop her wire cage, scrutinizing him.
"Hullo, Hedwig," said Harry quietly, so as not to wake the other, less ornithologically-given tenants of number four Privet Drive. "Out so late? It's past midnight. Catch a lot of mice?"
Hedwig hooted softly, and Harry suddenly felt very tired. He left his place by the window and went towards his bed, but as he passed the open door of his wardrobe the mirror hung inside attracted his attention. The mirror was a normal Muggle-made one, not enchanted to show him his deepest desires or bewitched to talk back to him, but this reflection shocked him more than any magic mirror's could.
Looking back at him was a tall, wiry boy with jet-black hair. His hair was untidy and small locks of it fell across his forehead, but did not hide the lightning bolt-shaped scar that descended from his hairline above his right eyebrow. The boy had a medium complexion, but looked paler in the moonlight. His face was healthy, but bordering on gaunt, and whether this was due to lack of sleep, or a nutritional deficiency, or fear of the future, no one knew. But the most startling thing was the boy's eyes. Even in this darkness an unearthly light, intrinsic rather than reflected, seemed to gleam in his gaze. Twin pools of green behind thick round-rimmed glasses belied their innocent wideness, and exposed the core of a child who had seen and heard and felt more than any other person of his fourteen years should have done. Harry blinked in surprise at the mirror boy, whose eyes still shone oddly, but offered no more insights into his soul. Unnerved, Harry closed the wardrobe door and crawled into bed. He drifted off quickly.
On Magnolia Crescent, two streets away, the lights were still blazing. All of a sudden, a tall man with black hair wearing dark robes appeared out of nowhere. Moments later, six more robed figures popped out in the street beside him, holding between them a sagging, unconscious werewolf. All except the werewolf held broomsticks. The first man looked at the house with its lights on.
"Right here," he said to the others. "Come on, then."
The group went to the front door and the black-haired man rapped three times on the door. The sound echoed through the empty street, but no one else was awake. After a few seconds the door opened.
"Black?" came a voice from inside. "Come in, all of you, before someone sees you."
"We brought Lupin to you," said the first robed man, Black. "We shouldn't have let him go by himself, but he said he could control it. Can you make some more of his potion?"
"I've already got it here," the voice replied. "Bring him in. Then you must go."
"We might have tried to grab them if there hadn't been so few of us," one of the Aurors said while they lugged the werewolf inside. "But we had no idea they would all be there. We were outnumbered at least five to one. It would have been an impossible fight."
"Lupin heard quite a bit, I think," said someone else. "You'll have to ask him about it."
Sirius Black stayed on the porch and looked between the houses at number four Privet Drive. He sighed, and another man came out to stand beside him.
"Miss him, don't you, Sirius?" said the man to Black.
"I miss my poor godson more than anyone could understand, Fletcher."
"I miss his parents," said another Auror suddenly.
"It isn't the same without Lily and James," agreed a fourth Auror.
"And with Minerva, Bella and Alastor stuck in contact assignments like this, instead of field work with us."
"Minerva told me that Mad-Eye was marvellous on a broom, before he lost his leg."
"I wish Frank Longbottom was here, instead of at St. Mungo's."
"It's no use missing and wishing," Fletcher spoke up. "We have to remember who landed Longbottom in St. Mungo's in the first place, and who it was who took the Potters away from us."
Sirius Black straightened up. "Fletch is right. Come on, we've got to get going. Dumbledore's waiting!" And the six wizards disappeared in thin air, just as suddenly as they had appeared.
The front door was shut again, but the lights inside stayed on for several more hours.
"Not Harry, please no!" A beautiful young woman with frightened green eyes.
"Lily, go! Get out of here, I can handle it!" A tall, untidily groomed man, frantic.
"Dunno if there was enough human left in him to die." A suspicious giant.
"Oh, Harry, but what if You-Know-Who's going to come back and get you?" Freckles on a redheaded boy, bushy hair on a brunette girl, both wearing expressions of anxiety.
"The Dark Lord will rise again." An eerie witch, sitting by a crystal ball.
"You'll be next, Mudbloods!" A malicious, pale-faced boy.
"Kill the spare." A high, cold voice from an unseen evil presence.
Harry sat in silent reflection for some time. The sounds and shapes gradually faded away. Staring out over the empty street, he observed, looking between some houses, that a light was still on in one of the windows across the way, but thought nothing of it. The house's resident probably had insomnia or something. Harry spied a fluffy snowy owl flying towards him. It was his pet, Hedwig, who presently swooped through the window and perched atop her wire cage, scrutinizing him.
"Hullo, Hedwig," said Harry quietly, so as not to wake the other, less ornithologically-given tenants of number four Privet Drive. "Out so late? It's past midnight. Catch a lot of mice?"
Hedwig hooted softly, and Harry suddenly felt very tired. He left his place by the window and went towards his bed, but as he passed the open door of his wardrobe the mirror hung inside attracted his attention. The mirror was a normal Muggle-made one, not enchanted to show him his deepest desires or bewitched to talk back to him, but this reflection shocked him more than any magic mirror's could.
Looking back at him was a tall, wiry boy with jet-black hair. His hair was untidy and small locks of it fell across his forehead, but did not hide the lightning bolt-shaped scar that descended from his hairline above his right eyebrow. The boy had a medium complexion, but looked paler in the moonlight. His face was healthy, but bordering on gaunt, and whether this was due to lack of sleep, or a nutritional deficiency, or fear of the future, no one knew. But the most startling thing was the boy's eyes. Even in this darkness an unearthly light, intrinsic rather than reflected, seemed to gleam in his gaze. Twin pools of green behind thick round-rimmed glasses belied their innocent wideness, and exposed the core of a child who had seen and heard and felt more than any other person of his fourteen years should have done. Harry blinked in surprise at the mirror boy, whose eyes still shone oddly, but offered no more insights into his soul. Unnerved, Harry closed the wardrobe door and crawled into bed. He drifted off quickly.
On Magnolia Crescent, two streets away, the lights were still blazing. All of a sudden, a tall man with black hair wearing dark robes appeared out of nowhere. Moments later, six more robed figures popped out in the street beside him, holding between them a sagging, unconscious werewolf. All except the werewolf held broomsticks. The first man looked at the house with its lights on.
"Right here," he said to the others. "Come on, then."
The group went to the front door and the black-haired man rapped three times on the door. The sound echoed through the empty street, but no one else was awake. After a few seconds the door opened.
"Black?" came a voice from inside. "Come in, all of you, before someone sees you."
"We brought Lupin to you," said the first robed man, Black. "We shouldn't have let him go by himself, but he said he could control it. Can you make some more of his potion?"
"I've already got it here," the voice replied. "Bring him in. Then you must go."
"We might have tried to grab them if there hadn't been so few of us," one of the Aurors said while they lugged the werewolf inside. "But we had no idea they would all be there. We were outnumbered at least five to one. It would have been an impossible fight."
"Lupin heard quite a bit, I think," said someone else. "You'll have to ask him about it."
Sirius Black stayed on the porch and looked between the houses at number four Privet Drive. He sighed, and another man came out to stand beside him.
"Miss him, don't you, Sirius?" said the man to Black.
"I miss my poor godson more than anyone could understand, Fletcher."
"I miss his parents," said another Auror suddenly.
"It isn't the same without Lily and James," agreed a fourth Auror.
"And with Minerva, Bella and Alastor stuck in contact assignments like this, instead of field work with us."
"Minerva told me that Mad-Eye was marvellous on a broom, before he lost his leg."
"I wish Frank Longbottom was here, instead of at St. Mungo's."
"It's no use missing and wishing," Fletcher spoke up. "We have to remember who landed Longbottom in St. Mungo's in the first place, and who it was who took the Potters away from us."
Sirius Black straightened up. "Fletch is right. Come on, we've got to get going. Dumbledore's waiting!" And the six wizards disappeared in thin air, just as suddenly as they had appeared.
The front door was shut again, but the lights inside stayed on for several more hours.
