I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER
this is my first fanfic so please BE NICE WHEN YOU REVIEW XP
SLASH AHEAD:: if you don't like... leave!
Chapter 3: Intruder
The eagle owl had flown out the window hours ago and Harry was sitting at his kitchen table, a blank stare upon his face, and a fire burning away the remains of the letter.
Another letter, different owl. Harry thought to himself. Not even bothering to open the letter that the owl had dropped off for him. Dumbledore had tried this tactic one too many times. Sending numerous different birds, one time even a very beautiful tropical bird, and Harry had opened that letter with some foolish hope it was from Sirius. But his face dropped when he opened it, feeling very foolish. He spent that night crying.
So Harry just kept burning the letters. Night after night they would come and night after night Harry would sit long into the morning, never sleeping, watching the flames.
The sun was now coming up in the Hollow, signaling to Harry that it was nearing eight o'clock. He looked at his watch and confirmed that, as he stood up and went to the cupboards to look for something to eat. He pulled out a box of crackers, the only thing in there next to a jar of peanut butter and a bag of sweets. He opened the box and bit into one. Stale, he thought miserably and threw the box into the fire that began roaring heavily again. He slumped into the living room to watch the muggle television he had brought from the apartment. It didn't get very good reception in the Hollow, but he could at least watch the news.
Note to self: go grocery shopping, Harry thought as he sat down and hit the remote.
"The people of London are celebrating this holiday..."
That's right... Christmas... Harry though to himself, sighing heavily as he changed the channel, looking for something that wasn't holiday related.
This would mark the fifth Christmas he had spent alone since Hogwarts. But, he couldn't blame anyone but himself. He was the one who shut the world out, it was all his fault. Though, as the years went by, he found himself wanting to enter the world again, open back up. But he just couldn't. He just wasn't ready.
"And for only two pounds, you can give this child a hope for a better life..."
CRACK
Harry jumped at the sound. He was familiar with it, the sound of apparation, but he wasn't sure who was in his house.
"Erm... Hello?" He answered warily, slowly making his way to the stairs.
"Dammit," he heard as the angry reply. He didn't recognize the voice, and it frightened him. It wasn't any of the professors, as they knew enough not to apparate into his house. Who the hell was it. He grabbed the fire poker, that was glowing red as he had mistakenly left it in the flames, and slowly made his way upstairs.
"Who the hell is there? I warn you, I have a gun." Gun... steaming hot metal... whatever.
As Harry rounded the corner, fire poker sticking straight out in front of him, he collided with something hard, a body.
"AHH!" screamed the form flying backwards into the wall, smacking his head hard and collapsing into a heap on the floor. There was a small trickle of blood dripping down the side of his face, probably from impact of the hit.
"Shit," Harry muttered as he made his way to the man.
Oooh, that has to hurt... eep!