Harry leapt up and dashed to the window. He pushed it open and called,
"Dean?"
Dean Thomas opened the gate separating the two yards. He ran into the Yardley garden and looked up at the window Harry was leaning out of.
"Harry? What are you doing here?"
Harry didn't feel like explaining the story all over again. Instead, he asked, "What about you?"
"I live here! What do you think? Remember, my parents are Muggles. But I know for sure that you aren't our neighbor. How'd you get in the Yardley's house?"
Harry sighed. All he wanted was a nap. "I'm now a foster child." He avoided looking at Dean's surprised and curious face. Interrupting the question "But what about those Mug -- " he said quickly, "I'm very tired. I need a nap. Talk later," and slammed the window shut. Dean knocked on the window, but Harry threw himself on his bed. He punched his pillow. Why had those cursed fools of Dursleys gone and put him in a foster home? Life with them was awful, everyone understood. Now he'd have to go and explain why he was living with Muggles. The Dursleys were Muggles, but that was understandable. They were relatives. Dumbledore had placed him in their care. What would Malfoy say to this?
In a foul mood, Harry watched Dean into his back garden, looking confused, angry, and (what made Harry most annoyed) hurt. Wishing he could live with Sirius, or even better, that his parents had never died at all, Harry rolled over and fell asleep.
* * *
Hermione was above him, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up," she said. "I brought you some dinner."
"I want to sleep. Go away, Hermione," Harry mumbled into his pillow.
"What did you call me? I'm Elsie, remember? And eat some dinner. I didn't bother bringing it for nothing."
Harry opened his eyes, squinting at the brightness of the room. He stared at Elsie for a moment before remembering everything. The truth crashed on him like an ocean wave and felt as though he were drowning in it. All I want is to go back to Hogwarts. How can I in a foster home? His despair showed on his face, for Elsie said,
"Are you all right? I'm sorry you're so disappointed to see me. I'll just leave the plate here then. Good-bye." With a hurt sniff, she marched across the door and exited, closing the door with a sharp click.
Once she had gone, Harry didn't waste any time. He jammed his glasses onto his nose, and grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage. He placed everything by the window and leaned over to open it up. Squinting into the dark outside, Harry threw the trunk down. Then he put his arms around Hedwig's cage, as she squawked madly, and jumped.
* * *
After running through the dark streets for a couple blocks as he dragged a trunk behind him and a cage in his arms, Harry stopped. He leaned over, panting. Once he had caught his breath he began to think sensibly.
"What am I going to do?" he whispered aloud, the quiet words disappearing into the chilly air that surrounded him like black fog. "Where am I going to go?"
Now he began to walk slowly, heaving his trunk alongside him. He let Hedwig out to soar above him and he tied her now light cage to his trunk.
Harry pondered all the possibilities.
"I could go back to one of the Dursleys. It would preferably be Aunt Petunia, because she is the one who is actually related to me," he muttered under his breath as he crossed the road, stepping into the orange splash of light from the streetlamp above. "And I don't think she knows how to attach bars to a window," he added bitterly.
The thought of returning to live with the people he had loathed all his life did not settle well in his mind.
Harry suddenly stopped walking.
"Return to the Dursleys? Am I mad? Anywhere is better than living with them! I didn't run away to go back to them."
A lone car on the road whizzed past Harry. The breeze it caused ruffled his hair and the cold air chilled him. It reminded him of the urgency he needed to some somewhere to stay - any shelter.
"I could go to the Weasleys," he thought. This would be the best of all options because Ron would be there and Mrs. Weasley would give him food and care. However, it appeared to be most difficult. He sighed with frustration. "How would I get there?" he moaned aloud to the empty buildings he passed.
An idea came to him. The Knight Bus, which he had taken the last time he ran away. That time he had summoned it accidentally. Unfortunately, since it was an accident, he didn't know how to summon it again.
"Stick your wand out," he muttered. It had gone something along those lines, hadn't it? Except he had fallen as he did it, which he hoped wasn't necessary. He stopped walking and reached into his trunk. He pulled out his wand. Gripping it tightly, he stuck it in front of him as he peered around for a bus dangerously driven to pop up out of nowhere.
Nothing happened. Harry groaned, annoyed. He tried again, and this time closed him eyes tightly and wished as hard as he could it would work.
He opened his eyes to squealing brakes. Harry couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that it had worked. He had summoned the Knight Bus. He grinned.
The purple bus stood in front of him, vibrating slightly as it stood on the road, waiting for him to board. A familiar face beamed at him.
"Stan!" Harry greeted the teenage conductor.
"It's 'Arry Potter, Ernie! Remember him, Ernie? 'Arry! Where'd you like to go, 'Arry?"
Harry sighed with relief as Stan picked up his trunk and he motioned him to climb aboard. Once on the bus, he opened his trunk and rummaged for his money.
"The Burrow," he said. He sighed happily with the thought of going far, far away from all those Muggle problems.
Dean Thomas opened the gate separating the two yards. He ran into the Yardley garden and looked up at the window Harry was leaning out of.
"Harry? What are you doing here?"
Harry didn't feel like explaining the story all over again. Instead, he asked, "What about you?"
"I live here! What do you think? Remember, my parents are Muggles. But I know for sure that you aren't our neighbor. How'd you get in the Yardley's house?"
Harry sighed. All he wanted was a nap. "I'm now a foster child." He avoided looking at Dean's surprised and curious face. Interrupting the question "But what about those Mug -- " he said quickly, "I'm very tired. I need a nap. Talk later," and slammed the window shut. Dean knocked on the window, but Harry threw himself on his bed. He punched his pillow. Why had those cursed fools of Dursleys gone and put him in a foster home? Life with them was awful, everyone understood. Now he'd have to go and explain why he was living with Muggles. The Dursleys were Muggles, but that was understandable. They were relatives. Dumbledore had placed him in their care. What would Malfoy say to this?
In a foul mood, Harry watched Dean into his back garden, looking confused, angry, and (what made Harry most annoyed) hurt. Wishing he could live with Sirius, or even better, that his parents had never died at all, Harry rolled over and fell asleep.
* * *
Hermione was above him, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up," she said. "I brought you some dinner."
"I want to sleep. Go away, Hermione," Harry mumbled into his pillow.
"What did you call me? I'm Elsie, remember? And eat some dinner. I didn't bother bringing it for nothing."
Harry opened his eyes, squinting at the brightness of the room. He stared at Elsie for a moment before remembering everything. The truth crashed on him like an ocean wave and felt as though he were drowning in it. All I want is to go back to Hogwarts. How can I in a foster home? His despair showed on his face, for Elsie said,
"Are you all right? I'm sorry you're so disappointed to see me. I'll just leave the plate here then. Good-bye." With a hurt sniff, she marched across the door and exited, closing the door with a sharp click.
Once she had gone, Harry didn't waste any time. He jammed his glasses onto his nose, and grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage. He placed everything by the window and leaned over to open it up. Squinting into the dark outside, Harry threw the trunk down. Then he put his arms around Hedwig's cage, as she squawked madly, and jumped.
* * *
After running through the dark streets for a couple blocks as he dragged a trunk behind him and a cage in his arms, Harry stopped. He leaned over, panting. Once he had caught his breath he began to think sensibly.
"What am I going to do?" he whispered aloud, the quiet words disappearing into the chilly air that surrounded him like black fog. "Where am I going to go?"
Now he began to walk slowly, heaving his trunk alongside him. He let Hedwig out to soar above him and he tied her now light cage to his trunk.
Harry pondered all the possibilities.
"I could go back to one of the Dursleys. It would preferably be Aunt Petunia, because she is the one who is actually related to me," he muttered under his breath as he crossed the road, stepping into the orange splash of light from the streetlamp above. "And I don't think she knows how to attach bars to a window," he added bitterly.
The thought of returning to live with the people he had loathed all his life did not settle well in his mind.
Harry suddenly stopped walking.
"Return to the Dursleys? Am I mad? Anywhere is better than living with them! I didn't run away to go back to them."
A lone car on the road whizzed past Harry. The breeze it caused ruffled his hair and the cold air chilled him. It reminded him of the urgency he needed to some somewhere to stay - any shelter.
"I could go to the Weasleys," he thought. This would be the best of all options because Ron would be there and Mrs. Weasley would give him food and care. However, it appeared to be most difficult. He sighed with frustration. "How would I get there?" he moaned aloud to the empty buildings he passed.
An idea came to him. The Knight Bus, which he had taken the last time he ran away. That time he had summoned it accidentally. Unfortunately, since it was an accident, he didn't know how to summon it again.
"Stick your wand out," he muttered. It had gone something along those lines, hadn't it? Except he had fallen as he did it, which he hoped wasn't necessary. He stopped walking and reached into his trunk. He pulled out his wand. Gripping it tightly, he stuck it in front of him as he peered around for a bus dangerously driven to pop up out of nowhere.
Nothing happened. Harry groaned, annoyed. He tried again, and this time closed him eyes tightly and wished as hard as he could it would work.
He opened his eyes to squealing brakes. Harry couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that it had worked. He had summoned the Knight Bus. He grinned.
The purple bus stood in front of him, vibrating slightly as it stood on the road, waiting for him to board. A familiar face beamed at him.
"Stan!" Harry greeted the teenage conductor.
"It's 'Arry Potter, Ernie! Remember him, Ernie? 'Arry! Where'd you like to go, 'Arry?"
Harry sighed with relief as Stan picked up his trunk and he motioned him to climb aboard. Once on the bus, he opened his trunk and rummaged for his money.
"The Burrow," he said. He sighed happily with the thought of going far, far away from all those Muggle problems.