All was silent in the street of Privet Drive. Everything was calm - almost everything. In one house - Number 4 to be specific - one person was not asleep, though it was half past one in the morning. Up on the top floor, behind a door that was locked and upon a floor that was covered with dust, lay a boy, just sixteen that very day. He seemed calm enough, in fact, anyone that had seen him would have thought him a normal, teenage kid. But if they caught one glimpse of what was going on inside. Harry had one word on his mind: murder. The word had many connections to many different people Harry knew about - Cedric Diggory, Lily Potter, Sirius Black. But those were people Harry did not want to die; people he wanted back. The murder Harry was thinking about was a murder he intended to commit. He sat for a while wondering what he would do if he ever laid hands on Beatrix Lemstrange. His hands clenched into fists, and he sent one into a floor board, sending an echoing bang throughout the silent house. Nobody noticed. No one ever heard his screams. Nobody cared. Harry moaned as he looked at the pile of letters his friends Ron and Hermione had sent him. He had not opened one. Every three days, he sent his owl off with the words, "I am here, I am alive, I am well. - Harry" written upon it. Not very informative; he suspected his friends were extremely angry. Hedwig had abandoned him because he had abandoned her, and was now spending her days at Ron's. Harry could have cared less at the moment. He thought Hedwig hunted around Privet Drive at night however. The fact was, Harry was sick. The first night he returned, he spent the night on a concrete pavement in the park. That alone had given him a cold. To make matters worse, he only wore tanktops and shorts these days, not exactly smart. He ate a melon a day, and rarely left his room save to go to the bathroom or refill his water bottle. His window was never open except to receive an owl. However, at last on this day, he felt lonely, and grabbed the first letter that his friend, Hermione had sent him. Dear Harry,
I can't wait to see you again. I know it has only been two days, but I
am really worried about you, Harry. I know you probably do not want to
talk about this, but if there is any way that Ron and I can help you
through this, you know we will. Just. don't shut us out Harry. We want
to help you. Don't forget: Ron and I will always be there.
Love,
Hermione
Harry felt his hands trembling. He noticed that the letter was covered with dry smudge spots - Hermione had been crying. Feeling horrible, he sped to his desk, grabbed a piece of paper, and ran out of his room and down the stairs.