Letters, Crime and Punishment
Harry sat up on his mattress quite suddenly. This summer the Dursleys had
taken everything out of his room, which were really just his bed, desk and
the bulb from the lamp. They had only left him his mattress and a bucket in
the corner for him to relieve himself in, and to vomit. His scar had been
hurting all summer, quite often leading to a lack of sleep. He was
breathing fast and was remembering a vivid dream he'd been having, as
flashes of Voldemort inflicting pain on his Death Eaters rushed past his
eyes. He was brought back to the present quickly as his uncle let out a
cough in the bedroom down the hall, and his cousin, Dudley, let out a groan
from the opposite room.
Harry got out of bed, and walked to the window, with a small amount of moonlight pouring through. "Ugh" he moaned, his eyes weren't used to the light.
Harry walked over to the window, gazing into the night sky. He glanced down at his watch. It was two o' clock; he'd now been fifteen for two hours. He watched the moon hanging in the shadows, and momentarily thought of his ex- Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher-Remus Lupin, who was, coincidentally, the best one he'd ever had.
Suddenly, he noticed a figure, silhouetted against the moonlight. As it flew closer, he realized it was an owl. He opened his bedroom window just in time for the owl to flutter gracefully into the room and land on his floor. He untied the letter from its leg, noticing it wasn't an owl he recognized, until he saw that the letter bore a Hogwarts crest.
"The Hogwarts school books list, no doubt" he thought aloud.
Just as Harry was about to open his letter, he noticed another three - no, four owls zooming towards him. He jumped out of the way just as they sped through the window and landed with the Hogwarts owl on the floor. He untied each letter one by one, gave each owl a spare piece of bread from his last 'lunch', he hadn't had much of an appetite recently. Then he watched all five owls fly out of the window in all directions. Good job Hedwig was with Ron, he thought, she might have been jealous. Harry had sent Hedwig to Ron this summer with a note, because he didn't think he'd have enough food to keep her alive. Harry laid down the unread Hogwarts letter on the window ledge, and moved to the others.
Harry started to open the first letter, and recognized the untidy scrawl that was Roan's handwriting.
Dear Harry,
How's your summer so far? I don't expect it's been great, what with having to live with those muggles. Hermione and I are going to go to the house and see the old crowd soon, mum asked Dumbledore if there was anyway you could come along, but apparently he said no so suddenly that she didn't dare ask again. Happy Birthday! I would send your present with this letter, but I'll have to give it to you at school, apparently Errol can't take the weight, and I couldn't use Pig, because Ginny got to him first. It's not fair is it? He's my owl.
Looking forward to seeing you on the train,
Ron
Harry couldn't help feeling angry, even though a letter from Ron was the highlight of his day. Why hadn't Dumbledore let Harry go to see the Order, at Grimmauld place? He knew very well what Ron had meant by 'the old crowd' and 'the house', but why couldn't Harry go. He was fed up of other people trying to rule his life for him, trying to be his parents. Harry leaned over to Hermione's letter, hoping it would be a little more positive.
Dear Harry,
Happy birthday, sorry the presents going to be late, but I got it by mail order and I thought it would have arrived by now. How's life with your aunt and uncle? I hope they're feeding you properly, you're a growing boy and you need a healthy diet, or at least some kind of diet. Great, she's starting to sound more like Mrs. Weasley every day. Ron's probably already told you that were meeting soon, but I don't understand why Dumbledore won't let you come. He probably has good reasons though.
Try not to let the muggles get you down,
Hermione
XXXXX
Harry looked at the kisses at the bottom of the page. Had she ever done that before? If she had, he hadn't seemed to notice. Putting Hermione's letter aside, he looked at the remaining two. One also bore the Hogwart's crest, so he picked up the one that didn't.
Dear Harry,
Happy birthday! Hope you like the gift; I know it's not what I usually get, but I wasn't sure what you had so I thought this was best. Harry looked down to his knees, and saw a small piece of paper that had fallen out of the letter unnoticed. He picked it up and turned it over, and let out a gasp. It was a voucher to the Quidditch Supplies shop in Diagon Alley. Hagrid was right; it wasn't the kind of gift he normally bought for Harry. Mainly, because it wasn't some dangerous creature. Not much is happening up at the castle right now, just the usual preparing for September.
I'll see you soon,
Hagrid
The next letter was just the usual Hogwarts list of supplies, nothing unusual there. His eyes darted to his watch again; it was nearly three in the morning. He decided it would be wise to go to sleep, if his Aunt Petunia was going to wake him up at Seven, to do his daily housework. He scrambled into bed, groaning slightly as pain shot up his abdomen. Uncle Vernon had taken to hitting him this summer, apparently to put the 'murderer' in his place. Harry shuddered. Cedric...It was his fault Cedric was dead. He had to watch Cedric die over and over in his sleep and if he hadn't insisted Cedric take the cup with him, he'd still be alive. Damn Gryffindor nobility. Despite his guilt, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
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He woke up the next morning with an aching side. He must have slept on a bruise. Maybe a broken rib. The room had a stale smell of vomit lingering from yesterday. It was 9 o' clock. Strange. There wasn't any bread on the floor near the door. Maybe he wasn't getting a meal today. He wasn't hungry anyway. The lock on the door clicked open. This only meant one thing. Pain. He tried to curl up into a protective ball as his uncle came over to him. Too late. He felt a hard force hit his already sore ribs. Damn that was painful. He was hit in several places on his face that he could practically feel swelling up already. The beating went on for several minutes, until his uncle grabbed him by his hair, which had grown down to his shoulders over the summer and felt considerably more manageable and straight, although he couldn't see it in a mirror. His uncle pulled him by his hair and threw him into the corner, then left, without a word.
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Harry woke up after Aunt Petunia had rapped on the door in her usual impatient fashion, watching the morning sunrise pour in through the window. A spark of fear shot through him, thinking uncle Vernon had another beating for him. Yesterday's 'punishment' had been enough. He thought another might finish him off. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding in when he saw that she had stuffed a slice of bread through the flap on the door.
Harry groaned. The Dursleys had taken to not speaking to him at all, apart from Uncle Vernon's taunts during the beatings. They only fed him one meal a day so no doubt his 'breakfast' would be his lunch, tea and supper too. Big shame it was only a piece of bread then.
Harry collapsed on his bed after his meal. It took a surprising amount of energy to eat because he was so weak. He wasn't hungry, it made him feel sick, but he knew he had to eat to stay alive. He slowly walked over to the bucket and released a stream of blood streaked vomit. Then he fell asleep.
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When he awoke, he noticed that it was still bright outside, and as he was looking towards the window, noticed the letter that he had forgotten to read the day before yesterday. Who could it be from? Hagrid had already sent him a letter, and it couldn't be the booklist, because he already had received that. Curiosity took over him as he eagerly tore the letter open and flicked to the back of the letter. Albus Dumbledore! What could be so important that he had received a letter from Dumbledore himself?
Dear Mr. H. Potter
I cannot reveal everything I wish to in this letter, due to possibilities of it being intercepted. I have received certain information concerning you, from a most reliable source. I have sent Professor Snape to retrieve you from your uncle's house. He should arrive at approximately eight o' clock tomorrow evening. Follow his instructions and he will bring you to Hogwarts.
Good luck, see you soon,
Albus Dumbledore
Professor Snape? Why him? Snape was Harry's least favourite professor and Harry was Snape's most hated student. Harry glanced again at his watch. Four-thirty PM. Snape would be there in just over three hours.
Harry felt anger inside of him. Dumbledore knew very well that Snape hated Harry and vice versa, so why send Snape? And what was it that Dumbledore couldn't risk sending in a letter? Whatever it was, Harry was sure it was the reason for stopping Harry going to see the Order. Was it something to do with Lord Voldemort? Perhaps that as why Snape was collecting him, because he found it out in one of his undercover missions.
Harry was about to begin gathering his things together when he heard the door open. Vernon Dursley walked into the room, slamming the door behind him. He wore a sadistic smile and his lips curled into a sneer. "I think it's time for another punishment, boy! Time you learnt that you can't go around killing people!" Harry felt the anger boil inside of him as he thought of Cedric, mixed with guilt and fear. "Freaks like you should be locked away or drowned!" He backhanded Harry, who was flung across to the wall. His head hit with a thud, and his vision went blurry. He could hear pounding footsteps coming closer to him. Kick. That hurt, right in the ribs. Punch. Sore kidneys tomorrow, if there will be a tomorrow. Spit. "That should teach you, boy!" Thud. Thud. Thud. Slam. Click. The door closed and locked and Harry felt himself slipping into unconsciousness as everything went black.
Harry got out of bed, and walked to the window, with a small amount of moonlight pouring through. "Ugh" he moaned, his eyes weren't used to the light.
Harry walked over to the window, gazing into the night sky. He glanced down at his watch. It was two o' clock; he'd now been fifteen for two hours. He watched the moon hanging in the shadows, and momentarily thought of his ex- Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher-Remus Lupin, who was, coincidentally, the best one he'd ever had.
Suddenly, he noticed a figure, silhouetted against the moonlight. As it flew closer, he realized it was an owl. He opened his bedroom window just in time for the owl to flutter gracefully into the room and land on his floor. He untied the letter from its leg, noticing it wasn't an owl he recognized, until he saw that the letter bore a Hogwarts crest.
"The Hogwarts school books list, no doubt" he thought aloud.
Just as Harry was about to open his letter, he noticed another three - no, four owls zooming towards him. He jumped out of the way just as they sped through the window and landed with the Hogwarts owl on the floor. He untied each letter one by one, gave each owl a spare piece of bread from his last 'lunch', he hadn't had much of an appetite recently. Then he watched all five owls fly out of the window in all directions. Good job Hedwig was with Ron, he thought, she might have been jealous. Harry had sent Hedwig to Ron this summer with a note, because he didn't think he'd have enough food to keep her alive. Harry laid down the unread Hogwarts letter on the window ledge, and moved to the others.
Harry started to open the first letter, and recognized the untidy scrawl that was Roan's handwriting.
Dear Harry,
How's your summer so far? I don't expect it's been great, what with having to live with those muggles. Hermione and I are going to go to the house and see the old crowd soon, mum asked Dumbledore if there was anyway you could come along, but apparently he said no so suddenly that she didn't dare ask again. Happy Birthday! I would send your present with this letter, but I'll have to give it to you at school, apparently Errol can't take the weight, and I couldn't use Pig, because Ginny got to him first. It's not fair is it? He's my owl.
Looking forward to seeing you on the train,
Ron
Harry couldn't help feeling angry, even though a letter from Ron was the highlight of his day. Why hadn't Dumbledore let Harry go to see the Order, at Grimmauld place? He knew very well what Ron had meant by 'the old crowd' and 'the house', but why couldn't Harry go. He was fed up of other people trying to rule his life for him, trying to be his parents. Harry leaned over to Hermione's letter, hoping it would be a little more positive.
Dear Harry,
Happy birthday, sorry the presents going to be late, but I got it by mail order and I thought it would have arrived by now. How's life with your aunt and uncle? I hope they're feeding you properly, you're a growing boy and you need a healthy diet, or at least some kind of diet. Great, she's starting to sound more like Mrs. Weasley every day. Ron's probably already told you that were meeting soon, but I don't understand why Dumbledore won't let you come. He probably has good reasons though.
Try not to let the muggles get you down,
Hermione
XXXXX
Harry looked at the kisses at the bottom of the page. Had she ever done that before? If she had, he hadn't seemed to notice. Putting Hermione's letter aside, he looked at the remaining two. One also bore the Hogwart's crest, so he picked up the one that didn't.
Dear Harry,
Happy birthday! Hope you like the gift; I know it's not what I usually get, but I wasn't sure what you had so I thought this was best. Harry looked down to his knees, and saw a small piece of paper that had fallen out of the letter unnoticed. He picked it up and turned it over, and let out a gasp. It was a voucher to the Quidditch Supplies shop in Diagon Alley. Hagrid was right; it wasn't the kind of gift he normally bought for Harry. Mainly, because it wasn't some dangerous creature. Not much is happening up at the castle right now, just the usual preparing for September.
I'll see you soon,
Hagrid
The next letter was just the usual Hogwarts list of supplies, nothing unusual there. His eyes darted to his watch again; it was nearly three in the morning. He decided it would be wise to go to sleep, if his Aunt Petunia was going to wake him up at Seven, to do his daily housework. He scrambled into bed, groaning slightly as pain shot up his abdomen. Uncle Vernon had taken to hitting him this summer, apparently to put the 'murderer' in his place. Harry shuddered. Cedric...It was his fault Cedric was dead. He had to watch Cedric die over and over in his sleep and if he hadn't insisted Cedric take the cup with him, he'd still be alive. Damn Gryffindor nobility. Despite his guilt, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
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He woke up the next morning with an aching side. He must have slept on a bruise. Maybe a broken rib. The room had a stale smell of vomit lingering from yesterday. It was 9 o' clock. Strange. There wasn't any bread on the floor near the door. Maybe he wasn't getting a meal today. He wasn't hungry anyway. The lock on the door clicked open. This only meant one thing. Pain. He tried to curl up into a protective ball as his uncle came over to him. Too late. He felt a hard force hit his already sore ribs. Damn that was painful. He was hit in several places on his face that he could practically feel swelling up already. The beating went on for several minutes, until his uncle grabbed him by his hair, which had grown down to his shoulders over the summer and felt considerably more manageable and straight, although he couldn't see it in a mirror. His uncle pulled him by his hair and threw him into the corner, then left, without a word.
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Harry woke up after Aunt Petunia had rapped on the door in her usual impatient fashion, watching the morning sunrise pour in through the window. A spark of fear shot through him, thinking uncle Vernon had another beating for him. Yesterday's 'punishment' had been enough. He thought another might finish him off. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding in when he saw that she had stuffed a slice of bread through the flap on the door.
Harry groaned. The Dursleys had taken to not speaking to him at all, apart from Uncle Vernon's taunts during the beatings. They only fed him one meal a day so no doubt his 'breakfast' would be his lunch, tea and supper too. Big shame it was only a piece of bread then.
Harry collapsed on his bed after his meal. It took a surprising amount of energy to eat because he was so weak. He wasn't hungry, it made him feel sick, but he knew he had to eat to stay alive. He slowly walked over to the bucket and released a stream of blood streaked vomit. Then he fell asleep.
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When he awoke, he noticed that it was still bright outside, and as he was looking towards the window, noticed the letter that he had forgotten to read the day before yesterday. Who could it be from? Hagrid had already sent him a letter, and it couldn't be the booklist, because he already had received that. Curiosity took over him as he eagerly tore the letter open and flicked to the back of the letter. Albus Dumbledore! What could be so important that he had received a letter from Dumbledore himself?
Dear Mr. H. Potter
I cannot reveal everything I wish to in this letter, due to possibilities of it being intercepted. I have received certain information concerning you, from a most reliable source. I have sent Professor Snape to retrieve you from your uncle's house. He should arrive at approximately eight o' clock tomorrow evening. Follow his instructions and he will bring you to Hogwarts.
Good luck, see you soon,
Albus Dumbledore
Professor Snape? Why him? Snape was Harry's least favourite professor and Harry was Snape's most hated student. Harry glanced again at his watch. Four-thirty PM. Snape would be there in just over three hours.
Harry felt anger inside of him. Dumbledore knew very well that Snape hated Harry and vice versa, so why send Snape? And what was it that Dumbledore couldn't risk sending in a letter? Whatever it was, Harry was sure it was the reason for stopping Harry going to see the Order. Was it something to do with Lord Voldemort? Perhaps that as why Snape was collecting him, because he found it out in one of his undercover missions.
Harry was about to begin gathering his things together when he heard the door open. Vernon Dursley walked into the room, slamming the door behind him. He wore a sadistic smile and his lips curled into a sneer. "I think it's time for another punishment, boy! Time you learnt that you can't go around killing people!" Harry felt the anger boil inside of him as he thought of Cedric, mixed with guilt and fear. "Freaks like you should be locked away or drowned!" He backhanded Harry, who was flung across to the wall. His head hit with a thud, and his vision went blurry. He could hear pounding footsteps coming closer to him. Kick. That hurt, right in the ribs. Punch. Sore kidneys tomorrow, if there will be a tomorrow. Spit. "That should teach you, boy!" Thud. Thud. Thud. Slam. Click. The door closed and locked and Harry felt himself slipping into unconsciousness as everything went black.