Another lovely thank you to RaI'DeE PoYnT3r, Stephanie Miss, Adrianna Ashke, and todderbaby for reviewing my fourth chapter! Amazing! Here's chapter number five! I hope you like it . . .


Chapter Five


Mandy

Dear Diary,

Today was our last day of school! It was awesome! Finally, I'm finished with fifth grade. Harry didn't come to school today, but he was in the newspaper. I decided that even though he is a criminal, I was going to visit him again anyways, just to say goodbye, because I'll never see him at school again. 'Tis a sad, sad thing. Here's the newspaper article :

Ten Year Old Boy Commits Murder

London, England –

Two people were found dead last night on Cadbury St. in London. They appeared to have been holding hands, (they were likely dating), when something large hit them on the tops of their heads, rendering them both unconscious. The murderer, ten-year old Harry Potter, then slit their throats, instantly killing them. Harry has not yet gone to trial, but in a statement given to the press last night he claims, 'I'm innocent, I swear.' Is this little boy trying to say that somebody else killed the people, (whose names have not yet been released), and then framed him? More on page C-2

:Flashback:

I read the newspaper when I got home from school. For once, there was something interesting on the front page. I read the article and was, well, baffled.

"Harry did not kill those people," I stated out loud to whoever might have been listening.

"Honey pie, how do you know that? That kid seems like a maniac. I sure hope that they are going to send him to jail, or at least give him community service," said my mother, who had read the article before I did.

"I'm going to visit him," I said, standing up and heading for the door.

"Oh no you aren't! That kid is a bad influence on you."

"Mom!" I practically shouted. "How can you even think that? He was over at our house just the other day and you seemed to like him enough. Nothing he has ever said or done would make me think him a murderer."

"Well, obviously you don't know him well enough," sniffed mom.

"Whatever, mom!" I cried and stormed out of the house. I walked down the street to the corner and sat by a lamppost. Then it hit me. I don't know where Harry lives. Crap! I decided to find a payphone and ask the operator for Dudley Dursley. I might look a little suspicious if I asked for Harry.

"Operator, how can I assist you?" asked the cool female voice.

"Yes, I need an address for, er, Petunia Dursley," I said. It had taken me forever to think of Dudley's mom's name. I didn't know his dad's.

"Yes. Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

"Thank you," I said and hung up. Hey, he lived practically next door to me. Well, only like four blocks away if you wanted to be precise. So, like any other eager journalist child, I ran, well, sprinted, to Harry's house.

I reached his house in about five minutes then walked around a little to cool off so I wouldn't smell. Stepping up onto the small porch, I rang the doorbell. Thankfully, Harry answered.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"I came to check on you," I said.

"Well," he replied, "you had better run away 'cause they've made me out to be some kind of a murderer. I swear I didn't do it."

I blinked. I didn't think he murdered anybody. "Please, let me in." He shook his head. "Then you have to come out here and talk to me!"

"I have," he checked his watch, "ten minutes before my aunt and uncle get home. We can sit in the backyard." I followed Harry through the house, (they have an extremely clean kitchen), and out into the back yard. It was also very clean, (which was difficult to imagine, for it was outdoors), though not as clean as the kitchen.

"Harry? Will you tell me the truth please? Did you kill those two people?" I asked timidly.

"Mandy. . . um, no. I didn't kill those people. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon sent me out to buy groceries. When I was picking up a bag of chips for Dudley, I had a very odd feeling and was transported to the street where these people lay dead. When I stood up, I was surrounded by police officers. I can tell you that I was very mad and angry because I believe Uncle Vernon, or one of Dudley's friends is trying to frame me with a murder."

"As weird of a story that is, I believe you Harry," I said.

:End Flashback:

I went home after talking to Harry with the promise that I would visit him tomorrow when his guardians were out. He seemed so sad and innocent when I talked to him. I truly believe that he didn't kill them. He made me promise not to tell the press anything and I readily agreed. When I got home mom made me take an antidepressant because I looked so bad. It's not helping. In fact, it's making me worse. Since I've taken it, I've cried eight separate times and fallen asleep twice. Oh well.

-Mandy Peters


Harry

"What are you doing out of your room?" cried Uncle Vernon as he walked in the front door, returning from his 'How-to Take Care of Your Car' clinic.

"I had to use the restroom," Harry lied.

"Oh sure you did," said Vernon, "I'm just glad you did it when we were out. I don't fancy being murdered, boy."

"I didn't kill those people!" shouted Harry.

"No! I think you did."

"Vernon, Vernon, come into the kitchen with me for a moment," said Petunia, pulling on her husband's arm. Dudley had gone upstairs to play Micro Madness Deluxe on his computer.

Harry waited, though impatiently, outside the kitchen door for Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to come out, finished with their hush-hush conversation.

"Harry," said Petunia calmly, emerging from the kitchen, "We received more of these letters in the mail today. Vernon is going to burn them." Harry made to enter the kitchen and retrieve his letters. "Now, go into your closet for the rest of the night, and any funny business will keep you in their all week!"

"But . ." cried Harry, to no reply. T'was a cruel, cruel world today.


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