This is my first fanfic…so be kind!! Oh yeah…and - I don't own anything, okay…nothing. Zilch, nada, nichts. It all belongs to JK Rowling…lucky her.
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Dear Sir,
Your order of one Flesh Engraving Quill™ has arrived. The position of the engraving can be selected by tapping said product with wand and naming area.
We hope that you will find the product (enclosed) satisfactory, and if you have any complaints, please write to us at: Borgin and Burke's, Knockturn Alley.
Yours Sincerely,
Borgin and Burke
***
The letter had been written on old parchment in a scratchy, spidery hand.
Harry unwrapped the parcel that had come with it, and stared down at the jet-black quill, nestled in the brown paper. He looked wearily at his owl, Hedwig, and fumbled in his trunk for an owl treat. Handing it to her, he said,
"Off you go now, Hedwig. Bye"
The snowy owl ruffled her feathers and flew out of the room, leaving Harry alone in the locked dormitory.
***
"Harry, mate? You in there? Why's the door locked?" Pounding and the sound of the door handle being rattled could be heard. "Why weren't you in lessons, Harry?" Several questions later and after a stream of curses about a bruised fist, footsteps could be heard stamping down the stairs into the Gryffindor common room.
***
"What's he doing?"
"I dunno. The door's locked, but he's not answering." Ron slumped down into an armchair alongside Hermione's, nursing his fist. "And now I've hurt my hand. God! What's wrong with him?"
"Why didn't you just unlock it?" Hermione said, standing up briskly and putting down the half knitted knobbly hat she had been working on. She started towards the door before Ron called back to her.
"Oh c'mon 'Mione – I thought he might like some privacy – he's obviously upset! Just leave him alone."
"I'm worried about him, Ron – he hasn't been normal since, well…you know. Last year."
Ron sighed and stood up "Yeah. Alright then. Let's go talk to him."
***
"Alohomora"
The door creaked open and Ron and Hermione stepped inside. 4 beds were left unoccupied, the scarlet curtains left open and hanging in velvet clumps at the corners of the beds, while the hangings around Harry's bed were tightly drawn.
"Maybe he's sleeping" Ron hissed, reluctant to disturb his friend.
"Maybe. Let's just check, alright?"
"Fine," Ron huffed, "but if we wake him up, I'm blaming you."
***
Harry lay on the bed, his hand still grasping the quill, his eyes closed and his glasses askew.
***
The hangings rustled as Hermione pulled them open slightly and looked through.
Harry lay, his face obscured in the shadow of the other, closed, curtain. The darkness hid how pale he was. And how the sheets were stained.
***
"Harry, wake up!" Hermione whispered, as she peered through the curtains, "It's dinner, and you should eat something to keep your strength…"
She pulled the curtains fully open, flooding light onto the boy lying on the bed.
The sheets, once white, were stained by a spreading red pool of blood, the same shade as the hanging surrounding him.
The boy lying on the sheets looked gaunt and almost deflated. He was, in comparison, as pale as the sheet had once been, and his eyes remained shut even as his best friends screamed at the sight of him.
***
"Madame Pomfrey…Dumbledore…Somebody!" A hysterical Hermione ran through the ever-changing corridors of Hogwarts, tears running down her cheeks as she called for help. As she burst into the Hospital Wing, she was greeted by Madame Pomfrey, who had curlers in her hair and was yawning.
"It's Harry – quickly, please!"
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What did ya think…please review – constructive criticisms would be great!!
