Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related material.
A/N: Some of you may not like it but I'm introducing a new character that will play a part in what I said in the introduction, the part where Harry becomes more brooding. I'd just like to apologize in advance; I'm not really good at writing conversations. Aniweiz, thanks to all those who bothered to review. c",)
Chapter 2: The Girl Next Door
Harry was no longer in his bed in the boring neighborhood of Privet Drive. He was in a clearing, surrounded by thick asparagus trees. He looked up to see the Crescent shape of the moon, overshadowing the clouds. A twig snapped to his left. He whirled his head around to face the intruder.
Bellatrix Lestrange was leering at him. "So, has the baby Potter gotten over the death of his beloved godfather?" Ropes in his hands and feet bound Harry. A piece of cloth was stuck into his mouth, preventing him from speaking. "Do you still have the dreams, running through the halls of the Department of Mysteries? Does his face haunt you every time you wake up, knowing you caused his death? You know Potter; it was all your fault he died. Wait, not entirely your fault. I killed him." Bellatrix let out a laugh. "You, with your noble morals and your big head, thinking you could save Black armed only with a wand and accompanied by a few measly little children. You played right into the Dark Lord's hands. You see, Potter, the Dark Lord knows you. Knows you in a way that should have you hiding under your bed, cringing in terror of him."
Harry struggled furiously against the bonds that tied him. Bellatrix only smiled and let out another laugh at watching his effort.
"Wasted effort, Potter. You should save your strength. The Dark Lord will come for you soon." Bellatrix walked around the clearing and squatted down right in front of him. "I was wondering why your recklessness and that of your so-called friends never ceases to amaze me. The moment I broke out of Azkaban, I keep hearing stories of you and your brav. . . stupidity." She smiled a hideous smile. "Your first year, you foiled the Dark Lord's plan to get the Sorcerer's stone. Your second year, once more you stopped the Dark Lord from seizing power in what was his former state, a boy called Tom Marvolo Riddle." Harry let out an audible gasp. "Ahh. . . you're wondering why I know these things, aren't you, Potter? Rumors and facts travel fast in the wizarding world." Bellatrix got to her feet and started walking around "During your fourth year, you dueled the Dark Lord and escaped from him unscathed, not to mention from a host of his death eaters. Luckily for you, I was not there, or you would have ceased to be a thorn in the side of the Dark Lord. Your fifth year, however, was the year of your most recent stupidity. Now, the whole wizarding world knows of your reckless heroism. And you still bear the scars. Does his death eat you inside out Potter? Does the image of me killing him haunt you every waking moment?"
Bellatrix could see the fury in Harry's eyes and this only caused her to smile more. "Potter, Potter Potter . . . It was your fault your idiot of a grandfather died. Don't you see Potter? It's always those around you that experience pain and suffering and even death. That boy from the tournament, what was his name . . .Diggory, right? You persuaded him to take the cup with you. If you hadn't, he would still be alive and living his meaningless existence. That's already two deaths on your conscience, Potter - which I don't doubt you have. That weasley girl during your second year, she experienced a lot because the Dark Lord was after you. She still dreams about that year, when at her weakest state, the essence of the Dark Lord possessed her. Another person's suffering on your conscience. As to the two persons you never knew . . ." The growing hatred and rage in Harry's eyes told her that she struck home. "Your parents. Have you heard the prophecy, Potter? I don't doubt Dumbledore would have let you hear it by now. The part that the Dark Lord knows . . . the part wherein Trelawney predicted that the boy born to parents who defied the Dark Lord three times, the boy born as the seven month dies . . . the boy that was destined to cause the Dark Lord's downfall, that's surely you. The Dark Lord does not easily believe in anything without facts, especially predictions and such. The prophecy, however, made him decide to play it safe. So he killed your parents in an attempt to get to you." Bellatrix only smiled and began to her fingers off one by one. "One, Black. Two, Diggory. Three, Weasley. Four and Five, your Parents. That's five person's pain and suffering on your conscience, Potter.
Bellatrix now stood in front of him. "Five, as many as the fingers on one hand. That's an awful lot, isn't it Potter?" She took out her wand. "Five."
"One. Lives lost because of you." Bellatrix tapped Harry's forehead.
"Two. You caused all their deaths Potter." Tap
"How can you live with that, knowing you caused the deaths of innocents. Three." Tap.
"Four. How can you live knowing you caused the deaths of the two people who gave you life?" Tap.
Tap . . . tap . . . tap . . . tap . . .
"NO!!! IT'S NOT MY FAULT!! IT'S NOT MY FAULT!!!" Harry screamed, and it was then that he fell off his bed, woken up to reality the gentle tapping of the delivery owl's beak against his forehead.
"WHAT THE RUDDY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU BOY?!?! SHOUTING AS IF THE WHOLE WORLD WAS COMING TO AN END!" Harry's least favorite relative, Vernon Dursley, was framed against his bedroom door. "OWLS AGAIN?! WOKE ME UP FROM MY SLEEP, TAPPING THE WINDOW! I TOLD YOU I WILL NOT HAVE ANY MORE OF THIS ABNORMALITY IN MY HOUSE." Vernon Dursley was shouting as if Harry was on the moon. His face was an odd burgundy color and his mustache twitched with every word.
"At the rate you're going, uncle, you might as well walk through the streets with a megaphone proclaiming I'm a wizard." Harry was not a morning person. Harry knew his uncle hated words associated with the wizarding world and in the end, knew he was going to pay. However, he decided that whatever the punishment was certainly worth watching his uncle turn a darker shade of purple.
It took a full minute for Vernon Dursley to calm down. The minute was spent glaring at his nephew and Harry stared back unblinkingly. "Right. Hurry down to breakfast. I'll talk to you in the kitchen." With that, Harry's uncle moved from his spot on the doorway and proceeded downstairs.
Harry was not scared at whatever awaited him in the kitchen. The dream had been so real. Bellatrix Lestrange - 'Damn her to the pits of hell' Harry thought furiously, - was still a vivid image in his mind. He clutched the scar in his forehead, and was surprised to find it cold. His dreams about Voldemort usually had him bolting upright with a sharp pain in his forehead. "Strange." This dream, he knew that whatever caused it was not related to any act or any strong feeling Voldemort was experiencing. Harry knew that it was his subconscious that caused it.
Tap. Tap.
The owl was tapping him in the forehead. He turned his attention towards it. It was bigger than any owl he had ever seen. It had to be at least twice Hedwig's size. It was a handsome eagle owl. And it was carrying an unusually large package. He took the package from its talons and offered it a drink from Hedwig's water bowl. Hedwig gave a small "hoot" at seeing the huge owl. It drank its fill and took off into the open window.
There was another owl, smaller than the eagle owl. It had an official looking air about it and was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest of a lion, raven, badger and snake around the letter H. Harry expected this owl. He took the letter it held in its beak and also offered it a drink before it flapped its wings and took off. "BOY! I TOLD YOU TO HURRY DOWN HERE!" His uncle's shout was audible enough to be heard by everyone in the house. "Crap." Harry muttered before sprinting downstairs and into the kitchen.
His uncle was sitting at the table reading the morning paper with a cup of coffee in his large, beefy hands. Dudley, his cousin was busy chomping down his breakfast. Dudley, now on a diet prescribed by a doctor, was as wide as he was tall. And that was saying something considering last year, he was the size of a baby whale. He looked the same as his father, with small blue watery eyes that stared from under his blond hair. His now four chins, wobbled continuously as he wolfed down second helpings. Aunt Petunia pointed to a plate of eggs and a piece of toast before saying. "Eat up. And hurry up while you're at it."
The Dursleys had improved in their treatment of Harry because of the whole order, threatening to come visit the Dursleys if they heard Harry was being maltreated in some way. The Dursleys biggest fear was that of anyone knowing what Harry really was and where he really studied.
"Good-for-nothing-boy. He goes to St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys." His uncle always told anyone inquisitive enough.
Vernon Dursley cleared his throat with a large "Hem" before putting down the newspaper. He narrowed his small blue eyes at Harry, pointed a finger at him, before speaking. "Now see here boy, I want you to look good and be in your best behavior today." Harry smirked and smiled inwardly as his uncle turned red. "As you probably know, the old neighbors decided to move out to who-knows-where. Today, we're going to visit the new neighbors. We are going to give them a good impression and I want none of your abnormality visible today. You will not speak unless spoken to and will answer all their questions politely. If they ask, you still go to St. Brutus'." His uncle seemed to finish his little speech. "Now get a shower. And do something about your hair!" Harry's hair was a constant irritation to the Dursleys and despite all his efforts to make it lie flat, it always looked messy. He failed to see the point of trying to comb it.
Harry took a shower after finishing his breakfast and put on a pair of Dudley's baggy jeans, a polo shirt and sneakers. He went downstairs to find the Dursleys all assembled in the living room, with Aunt Petunia carrying an apple pie.
"Took you long enough." His uncle muttered. "Now let's get going."
Harry followed the Dursleys out the door and was enjoying contemplating what his OWL results were. He still hadn't opened the envelope. And he was wondering what the big package in his room was. And who sent it.
Before he knew it they stopped in front of another boring looking house with a huge truck parked directly in front of it. The words "MOVERS, INC." was written in bold letters on the side. Two people wearing khaki-brown uniforms were loitering around the truck.
Uncle Vernon went up the steps and boldly knocked on the brass knocker set into the door, even if the door was already open. They heard a male voice saying, "Here? Sign here? Anything else?" Before shouting, "Coming!"
A man wearing another uniform walked out the door, said in a monotone voice "Good morning." Before walking down the steps. A weary looking man stood in the doorway. He looked like he hadn't had a good nights sleep. The moment he saw that it wasn't a salesman or anybody official, he put on a smile and said in a polite voice, "What can I do for you people?"
"A pleasant morning Sir." Uncle Vernon boomed. "We're the Dursleys and we'd just like to welcome you to our neighborhood. My name's Vernon Dursley, this is my wife, Petunia and our son, Dudley. And of course, my nephew, Harry." The way Uncle Vernon pronounced his nephew's name; it was like it was a piece of dirt attached to his shoe. Uncle Vernon extended a large beefy hand.
"Good morning. My name's Kevin Cheu." Mr. Cheu shook Uncle Vernon's hand. "Honey! Kyna!" The man shouted, "It's the neighbors. Come down for a few." Footsteps could be heard. A good-looking woman who appeared to be in her late thirties appeared beside her husband, "This is my wife, Rhea."
"Good morning." Said Mrs. Cheu with a smile.
Mr. Cheu had a weathered looking face and sounded much older and wiser than he looked. His wife, however appeared to have the energy of a woman half her age.
"Yes, Daddy?" a very beautiful petite girl with raven dark hair appeared beside Mr. Cheu.
"Ah, yes, now that we're all here. This is our daughter, Kyna." For once, Harry thought the word 'beautiful' was an understatement. She was stunning! "And Honey, Kynz, these are the neighbors; Vernon Dursley, his wife Petunia, their son Dudley, and their nephew, Harry."
"Nice to meet you." Kyna said tentatively, looking up at each Dursley in turn before glancing at Harry, who felt like the caterpillars in his stomach had become butterflies. She is so beautiful Harry thought dreamily, and so cute. She must be at most 5'2.
Uncle Vernon, seeing the mess inside the house sighed loudly before saying, "Well, seeing as you still have a lot to do, we'd best be taking our leave now." Aunt Petunia moved forward and gave the Cheu's the apple pie. "Once again, welcome to the neighborhood." Uncle Vernon smiled.
"Thank you for the visit. And thank you for the apple pie." Said Mrs. Cheu as they turned to leave.
"Why don't you guys come over for dinner say . . . two nights from now, around 7. Everything should be neat and tidy by then." Mr. Cheu offered.
"We'll keep that in mind." Said Uncle Vernon noncommittally.
"Bye." Harry turned around one last time, delaying the moment when he no longer had to see Kyna.
"Bye." Harry swore she saw her wink at him before-
"Come on boy." Uncle Vernon said before grabbing Harry roughly around the wrist not-too-gently before half-dragging him home.
"They seem nice enough. Except they treat their nephew strangely." Harry heard Mr. Cheu say before hearing the angelic voice say, "I don't know. I think he's kind of cute . . ."
"Is that the sound of love taking wing?" Mr. Cheu teased before they were out of earshot.
All too quickly for Harry, they reached the house. Uncle Vernon loosened his hold and said. "Write to those weirdos. They haven't heard from few for two days. I don't want anyone dressed funny to visit us." The Dursleys always reminded him to write every two days. Here was a ready-made excuse for Harry to disappear.
He took the stairs two at a time and opened the door to his bedroom. The letter and the package were still lying in the floor where he left them earlier. He turned his attention the letter first. He broke the Hogwarts seal and felt it was thicker than usual. There were several pieces of paper inside. He took one out and read. It stated that term starts September 1 as usual and that the Hogwarts train would be in platform nine and three quarters and would be waiting to take them to school. The other note contained the list of books he would need for the upcoming term. And the last piece of paper contained his OWL results.
OWL RESULTS
NAME OF STUDENT = POTTER, HARRY JAMES
HOUSE = GRYFFINDOR
Divination- Acceptable
Potions- Outstanding
Defense Against the Dark Arts- Outstanding
Herbology- Exceeds Expectations
Astronomy- Acceptable
Care of Magical Creatures- Outstanding
History of Magic- Exceeds Expectations
Transfiguration- Outstanding
Charms- Outstanding
Total Possible OWL's = 14 Total OWL's = 10
Subjects offered for upcoming term:
NEWT Level Divination
NEWT Level History Of Magic
NEWT Level Potions
NEWT Level Transfiguration
NEWT Level Charms
NEWT Level Care of Magical Creatures
NEWT Level Herbology
NEWT Level Defense against the Dark Arts
NEWT Level Astronomy
Please choose at least 6 subjects and submit it on or before August 15.
Harry's mind was swimming. 10 OWLs? He didn't expect to get 6. And the fact that he got an 'Outstanding' in Potions was unbelievable. It was his worst subject. Not to mention the teacher, the hook-nosed, menacing Severus Snape loathed him. Dumbledore definitely had something to do with it.
Now that he was on the subject of his headmaster, he wondered why Dumledore gave the go ahead to the order to give him the sword. Surely he knew that Harry would be tempted to hunt down Bellatrix. Bellatrix Lestrange wasn't the easiest person to forgive.
Harry put her out of his mind. It was such a pleasant day to worry about something he had no control of. He satisfied himself with a single thought. One day, she will pay. He turned his attention back to the letter. Grabbing a spare piece of parchment from the table he wrote:
Name of student = Harry James Potter
Subjects interested in taking: NEWT Level Potions
NEWT Level Defense against the Dark Arts
NEWT Level Transfiguration
NEWT Level Charms
NEWT Level Care of Magical Creatures
NEWT Level Herbology
Hey, he said to himself, the note said 6 subjects right? There was absolutely no way he was going to take any more of Trelawney predicting his early death due to the lines in his hand. Astronomy was a subject he was no longer interested in and Binns' class, History of Magic, was undoubtedly the most boring subject ever taught in Hogwarts. If it was another teacher, the lesson might have been more interesting but Binns, the only ghost teacher in Hogwarts, taught in a way that will have you slinking into a stupor 10 minutes into the discussion.
He grabbed another piece of parchment and wrote to the order, telling them he was fine and they didn't need to come and visit. He also thanked them for the sword and said that he was not just going to hunt his godfather's murderer anytime the sword was going to glow red.
"Here," he gave the two pieces of parchment to Hedwig, "Deliver this one to the order and this one to Hogwarts." Hedwig gave a small hoot and gently nipped on his finger, indicating that she understood before taking off. Harry was going to be counting the days until she came back. She was the only creature in the house that didn't flinch at the sight of him.
He turned his attention to the package the huge eagle owl had delivered. It had a kind of circular shape but twisted and turned until a long and thick handle grew out of the center and to the side. (A/N: Sorry, I can't really describe it.)
Harry tore off the wrapping paper and saw the instrument encased in a beautiful transparent crystal case. Harry knew from the shape alone what it was. He often saw it displayed on windows in different shapes and sizes when the Dursleys brought him along for shopping. It was a guitar. A note was taped to the case.
Dear Harry,
A very happy birthday to you. You don't need to be a wizard or muggle to appreciate music. I hope you get good at it. Enjoy!
There was no signature. Harry was puzzled as to who could send him this. He did not recognize the handwriting although it was flowery and feminine. He could think of no one who would buy him this. The Dursleys? The thought alone was disturbing. In a world where Dudley was thin and toads delivered letters instead of owls, it was quite possible. But Harry Potter lived in the real world.
Guitars were expensive. It had huge price tags whenever he saw it displayed on the window. Who would spend this much money on him? He unlatched the case and held the instrument. Slowly, tentatively, he strummed the strings. The sound echoed across the room. The sound seemed gentle and relaxing. And Harry knew whoever crafted this guitar really knew what he was doing.
In the bottom of the case was a small book. 'Guitar for Beginners' it was entitled. He read the introduction and practiced the basic chords. Before he knew it, it was lunch. Time seemed to tick by quickly. Hours seemed to be passing by as if minutes.
Harry sensed rather than saw that he was no longer alone in the room. He had his back to the door and was not surprised to hear his Uncle's voice say, "There is something I have to do. I want you to shut that thing up tonight. I cannot concentrate with all this racket." Before he heard the door slam.
Tonight. The word echoed in his head. He looked to the window and was surprised to see it was already dark. Damn, he thought, well, there's always tomorrow. He placed the guitar gently back on its crystal case. He looked around for the source of the sound until he realized it was his stomach.. No wonder since he seemed to have skipped lunch and dinner. He went downstairs to find a plate of cold spaghetti waiting for him. He wolfed it food down.
"I'm going to take a walk." He said to Aunt Petunia. She only grunted to acknowledge she heard him. Harry was far too used to this to care. Dudley was also out. Anytime Dudley came home was always the proper time to come home according to the Dursleys. Any later than that and it was already late.
He liked the feeling of the cold night air pressed against his face. Somehow, he liked the night. Sometimes, he stayed up until past 2, just staring at the night sky. The night had a calming effect on him. The moon with its crescent shape was hidden behind its cloudy sleeve. Harry liked the cloudless nights best. And tonight, well, he decided he would just think.
Harry walked the familiar route to the playground. It was only a block away. He always went there whenever he needed to think. The familiar lights of the park came into view. He made his way to his favorite swing and just sat there, occasionally pushing the sand with his feet, swaying with the wind. Harry recalled all that happened last year.
For months, he had been having dreams of walking down a dark corridor with a door at the end. And in one, Harry had been the snake that attacked Ron's dad. That was probably the night Voldemort realized he could send Harry images. He sent Harry a dream that he was torturing Sirius at the Department of Mysteries. And like a moth to a flame, Harry went to the ministry in a desperate act to save Sirius. He learned too late it had been a trick. Voldemort had used him. Voldemort knew that Harry had a saving-people thing and he used this to his advantage. Harry could still remember the memory clearly. The order of the Phoenix, upon learning Harry and members of the DA were doing battle with Voldemort's Death Eaters in the ministry, sent a rescue party. Sirius went with them. The memory always left Harry with watery eyes.
Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her.
"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore, too, turned towards the dais. It seemed to take Sirius an age to tall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfathers wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place.
Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream, but knew it meant
nothing — Sirius had Only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second . . . But Sirius did not reappear. "SIRIUS!" Harry yelled. "SIRIUS!"
"Sirius," Harry said quietly, "I'm really sorry," His dream confirmed what was mentally gnawing at him from the inside. That it was his fault Sirius died. Because of his desire to play the hero, he fell into Voldemort's trap and in the end, resulted in the death of his godfather. He knew that Sirius would want him to move on but he just couldn't let go of the fact that it was his fault. And that Bellatrix Lestrange was still out there. The burden of revenge was on his shoulders, he should be out there, dogging her footsteps. But he knew that there was going to be another trap. Besides, Dumbledore would never allow it. Even as he was sitting there, he knew that somebody was watching him. After what happened last year, they weren't going to take any more chances. Voldemort's power had grown. Harry knew this even though he could not see any signs of Dark activity. Voldemort would now have agents following Harry, many if not all, willing to die to kill him. Voldemort would have agents operating all over, not to mention a few spies inside the ministry.
Last school year was not a pleasant one for Harry. Insults, taunts and scornful stories in the Daily Prophet scoffed at his and Dumbledore's version of what they claimed was true; that the Dark Lord was alive and growing in power. He thought of the time when the ministry sent Dementors after him; Tall hooded and cloaked figures that were the dregs of the wizarding world. They sucked away the happiness in the surroundings and forced the person to relive the worst memories of his life. Harry knew they would turn to Voldemort without a second thought.
It was the dictator of Hogwarts during their fifth-year that sent the Dementors. Dolores Jane Umbridge. To cut all definitions short, she looked liked a pink toad. Umbridge, an agent of the ministry inside Hogwarts, enjoyed tormenting Harry with detentions. Not to mention forcing ridiculous ministry decrees. No doubt under orders from Fudge, she turned their lessons into something like a boring study period. There was no Hands-on activity in her classes and everything was in their textbook. Which meant immensely dull lessons (Personally, Harry preferred Binns).
Harry smiled whenever he thought of the secret Defense Against the Dark arts group they created right under her nose. Dumbledore's Army or the DA for short with Harry as their unanimously elected leader. That group was the only worthwhile thing he felt he did for his fifth year. It was going extremely well until Cho's friend betrayed them all to Umbridge.
Thinking about Cho brought him a feeling of guilt. Their fifth-year hadn't been an exactly happy year for her either. Whenever Harry spotted her in the hallways, at dinner, she always seemed ready to break down and cry. He knew why she was that way. Cho was still thinking about Cedric. They had been a couple ever since the Yule Ball. I should have told her what really happened inside the maze. She of all people deserved to know that. The words 'should have' rang in his head. He should have told her in one of those meetings of the DA. He should have told her when they shared that kiss under the mistletoe. He should have told her during their Valentine's Day date. So many 'should haves.' He didn't blame her for walking out on their date. He should have told her that day. Instead, I was an insensitive git. I blew the only chance I ever had with her.
"Harry, you stupid idiot," he said to himself. He kicked the sand hard.
"You know," A voice to Harry's left, said, making him jump, "I've heard of self-depressants but you didn't seem the type."
With reflexes honed by his Quidditch training, Harry had instinctively grabbed his wand and was about to point it strait at the intruder before he realized who it was. Kyna was leaning against a steel post. "Oh, it's you," said Harry, quickly pocketing his wand and hoping she hadn't seen it.
She took his seat in the swing and began to sway back and forth.
"Not that it's any of my business but what are you doing here?" Harry asked timdly.
"I was bored. Thought I would just walk around." She raised an eyebrow at Harry, "What do you do for fun around here?"
"If you're up to it, teasing my cousin is pretty amusing. He can't think of a proper comeback." Harry gave off a mischievous smile.
"You mean that pig in a wig?" The comment caused Harry to chortle.
"Nice choice of words. About the answer to your question, not much." Harry sighed. "It's pretty boring in Privet Drive."
"Understatement of the century." Harry was beginning to like her. She reminded him of someone. He just couldn't put his finger on whom. Again, she gave him one of her dazzling smiles, displaying a row of white teeth.
"So . . . Why'd you move here to Privet Drive? Considering how boring it is, I'm surprised."
"My Dad works for a company that assigns him where to go. He enjoys his work so mom and I usually don't complain. The only plus is we get to travel. The downside, we travel a lot."
"What do you mean?" asked Harry
"Well, picture this. You've settled comfortably into a town. You've made new friends, you like your school. Everything is going smoothly. Until one day, home from school, you're dad is waiting for you in the porch. Just about when everything feels right, you have to move again. The longest I stayed in one place was our last town. Two years." Kyna was wearing a grim expression on her angelic face. "It pretty much sucks." Barely audible, she muttered, "Marc probably has a new girlfriend now . . ." Hardly visible, Harry saw a single tear fall from her eyes.
"I don't mean to be too curious . . . Marc?"
"You heard that?" She sighed loudly. "My Ex." She turned to look at him. "Enough about me, how about you? How did you end up here in the most boring of all places?"
"My Parents died in a car crash when I was still a baby."
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't know." And she truly looked the part.
"Don't be. What could anyone do?" Harry was allergic pity. He didn't want anyone feeling sorry for him. "Anyway, the Dursleys were the only living relatives I have left. Aunt Petunia is my mother's sister."
"And what's that?" She pointed at his scar.
"This?" Harry showed her the scar. "Souvenir from the crash."
"How about school? Where do you study?" Kyna asked.
"St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys." The lie came too easily.
Kyna raised one of her eyebrows. "You know Harry, I may not be a genius but I'm not an idiot as well. You really don't go there, do you?"
Harry looked at her tentatively, considering the options. If he told her, he would be breaking the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. And if someone found out that he did tell her, there would be trouble for him. Yet there was something in her eyes told him that she could be trusted. That she would not break his trust.
"Do you really wanna know?" Harry asked seriously.
"Would I ask if I didn't want to know?" Kyna asked him back.
"Promise me one thing though." Harry looked at her. She was looking at him with curiosity. "Promise me that whatever I tell you here will be a secret. Promise me you won't tell anybody what I tell you. Not your parents, not your best friend. It will just be between the two of us."
Kyna nodded solemnly, "You have my word."
Harry considered her silently for a moment. He cleared his throat and began telling her the story of his life.
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In a house far away from Privet Drive, a pretty raven-haired girl was leaning on the balcony of her room, staring at the stars and thinking about the boy who lived.
A piece of parchment was lying on the ground, the writing visible through the moonlight. In a neat flowing handwriting was written:
Dear Harry,
I guess you're pretty surprised to be hearing from me. I want to talk to you about what happened during our date in Hogsmeade. . . about my mistake. Before saying anything, I'd like to wish you a very happy 16th birthday.
Listen, Harry, I feel really bad about what happened last year. I shouldn't have pressed you about Cedric. I'm sorry for upsetting you last year. I should have been sensitive enough to sense that talking about his death must have been really painful for you too. Please understand that he and I were really close and that I wanted to hear the clear story from whom Cedric was with last, not from some rumors discussed during dinnertime. I know you would have told me in your own time. It was really selfish of me to trouble you about it. I'm really sorry for hurting you. I do hope you'll forgive me. I don't know what I'd do if you'd continue to be mad at me.
In sorrow,
Cho
P.S. I do hope you like the gift and that you get good at it.
Cho Chang turned from the cool night air flowing through the window and picked up the piece of parchment. She read the letter once more. Cho deeply regretted her actions. If she hadn't acted selfishly, there would have been a chance for them to be together. Now, she doubted the possibility. I wouldn't be surprised if he would still be mad. . .
She threw the parchment into the trashcan and lay down on the soft linen sheets on the bed. She thought once more about those intoxicating green eyes before pulling the blanket to her neck.
"Harry, I'm sorry," She murmured softly before surrendering to sleep.
A/N: That's the end of chapter. I'm sorry for taking a long time to upload. My computer was getting fixed. Anyway, tell me what you think. Any comments, suggestion, flames, you can place it all in a review. I'm open to suggestions. Another chapter will cover the rest of the summer. It probably won't be as long as this one. So. . . is Kyna portrayed okay?