Hallo, I'm TheseBrokenWings. TBW might be better. I forgot to say that I certainly do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own any of the other characters mentioned in this fanfic. Please do not sue me. I have about four dollars, anyway.

I hope you all enjoy this fic. This chapter is slightly pointless, but it is still important. The next one will be much more exciting, I promise. Probably.

Life's Surprises

Chapter 2

Harry leapt back, landing on his bottom, his head cracking back against the dresser. He reached up, and yanked the ferret off of his nose. He clutched it to him, immobilizing it. It stared at him, looking entirely annoyed. Harry stood up, and shoved it into Hedwig's cage, slamming the door shut and latching it definitively.

The ferret ambled around, examining its surroundings. It sniffed disdainfully at an owl dropping, then curled up in a corner, staring at Harry reproachfully.

"It's your own fault that you're in there," he told it. It did not respond. Not that Harry had expected it to. He reached up a hand to scratch the back of his head, messing up his hair further. "Well… I suppose I should clean that cage… It can't smell very good in there." He glanced around for his wand for a moment, before remembering that he couldn't use magic. Scowling, he opened the cage slowly. The ferret didn't move. Harry pulled out the newspaper, quickly replacing it. He tossed it into a garbage can, then returned to the cage, staring at the ferret. "Now, that's got to be better, hasn't it?" The ferret rolled its eyes, but Harry was already looking away. "I guess I should take out Hedwig's perch, shouldn't I?" He asked. "It's not as if you'll be using it, and you'll have more space if it's gone…" He reached in, careful not to touch the ferret. It seemed docile enough now, but if the bite marks covering his nose were any proof, it hadn't been before. He unhooked the perch, laying it down beside the cage. "There we go." He glanced behind him. "Er… I wonder what ferrets eat." He muttered. The ferret uttered a squawk of outrage. Harry looked back at it, instantly concerned that he had hurt it, but it was too late, it had already run along his arm, out of the cage, and leapt from his shoulder onto Harry's bed. It ran to the window, scrabbling at it with its tiny nails desperately, then jumping onto the floor to scrabble at the space under the door. Harry just watched. He was sure the creature couldn't escape from the room; it was pretty adept at keeping things trapped in it. He had been trapped enough times to know that.

Eventually, the ferret tired, laying down beside the door in a huff. It did not protest when Harry picked it up, wrapping his hands around its middle, and placed it back inside the cage, this time carefully closing the door, but leaving it unlatched. "I'm afraid there's no escape… you'll have to stay here. I couldn't let you starve out in the wild, now could I? Now, I suppose I'll have to feed you what I get… there's no way I can get anything else. And you're bound to like something." He shook his head, laughing. "I guess I have another pet," He told himself. The ferret sniffed.

He lay back on his bed, arms crossed beneath his head, staring at the creature. It was smaller than it had seemed when hanging off his face. It even seemed sort of pretty to him, all pure white, except for its cute pink nose, and hauntingly silver eyes. It lay curled up in a ball, nose resting on its tail, watching Harry appraisingly. Yes, it was almost cute, despite the fact that when he looked at it, what he immediately thought of was the dead ferrets which he and his friends had thrown to Buckbeak, -- He meant Witherwings -- in his third year, or, well, Draco Malfoy, of course… He paused, feeling another wave of anger flash through him. He did not want to think about Draco Malfoy. He didn't want to think about his friends either, for that matter.

At the end of his last year, when he had made his decision not to go back to Hogwarts, but instead to travel abroad to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes, Ron and Hermione had promised to come with him. They had even promised to come with him back for his required stay at the Dursleys. But were they here? No, obviously. Harry was all alone with the Muggles, just like every year. He was sure there were many halting explanations in their letters, just like there had been when they had taken the train home. Hermione wanted to go home first to say goodbye to her parents, Ron needed to attend Bill's wedding (Harry had decided not to go, he really, really did not want to be around Ginny,) and so on, they'd come meet him later. So he waited, but he had long since given up on that. They were not going to come. He had tried to leave on his own many times, as it was nearly the end of summer, and he was quite sure that he had stayed long enough to keep it so he would always be safe here. Not that he cared, really, he had never planned to come back after this summer, but Dumbledore had wished it. Dumbledore… wasn't going to wish anything else of him, ever again, so…

Harry wiped angrily at his eyes, sitting up, to look out the window. It really was far too sunny. It shouldn't be sunny when he felt like this. He wished desperately it would rain.

Well, not just because he wanted the weather to match his mood. If it had been raining, he would have been able to pick the lock to the cupboard under the stairs, take his Firebolt, and fly out of here, as he so desperately wanted to. But there hadn't been any rain in weeks, and he couldn't think of any other way to escape. The Dursleys wouldn't drive him anywhere, and they were many miles away from any train or trolley station. The Knight Bus seemed to no longer be running, Harry could only assume that this was because Stan Shunpike was still locked away in Azkaban, and no one had come to get him. He would be needed, wouldn't he? They couldn't possibly be defeating Voldemort without him, he was in the Prophecy! They needed him! Besides, he knew what no one else did. He knew the only way, the only possible way, to kill Voldemort. Unless Hermione and Ron had gone about telling everyone… He resisted the urge to get up and kick things into rubble. He didn't know why he had ever trusted those two with Dumbledore's secret. It was supposed to be just between them, and Harry hadn't even been able to keep that promise… he wouldn't be able to be the one to continue Dumbledore's work, he was sure that his so-called friends had told the entire wizarding world about them by now, breaking their cover, ruining any chances he had at winning this war, at avenging the deaths of first his parents, and then Sirius, and the Dumbledore… And of saving himself, he supposed. Neither can live while the other survives, after all. Not that that really mattered to Harry. He didn't want to be here. He just wanted to vanish, to make them all leave him alone. And since it certainly didn't seem as if they needed him, why couldn't he? Why couldn't he just leave, never to be heard from again, or better yet just kill himself, and then this whole stupid affair would be over and done with, and—He felt a wet nose on his cheek, and opened his eyes to see the ferret. It nudged his cheek gently, then wiped away the tears with the back of its paw, such a human gesture that Harry couldn't help but smile. It promptly curled up, face away from Harry's, its furry back resting against his cheek, and fell asleep. Harry lay there, watching its chest rise and fall with every breath. It was hard to feel upset with a warm, fuzzy body, resting against your skin, Harry thought, with another rare smile. Eventually, he fell asleep, too.

Only to wake up with a start. "Potter!" The thick voice of his cousin Dudley reverberated through his door, the doorknob rattling. "Potter, why've you got the door barricaded, you know that you aren't allowed to do that." He paused. "I bet you're wanking in there!" He shouted, accusatorially.

Harry leapt out of bed, angrily pulling the chair away, and hurling the door open. "What do you want, Dudley? I haven't got any food in here, you know."

Dudley glared at him. "Mum and Dad say that unless you wish to go hungry, it's time for supper. You already missed lunch, you know," He told him, a note of disbelief in his voice.

"I'll be down in a minute. Now shove off." Harry told Dudley, closing the door in his face. He would probably pay for his rudeness when he got downstairs, but he hardly cared. Now that Dudley mentioned it, he did feel quite hungry. Oh… he was sure the ferret was even hungrier. It had obviously been abandoned, so who knew when it was last fed? He looked around for the ferret, finally noticing its head poking tentatively out from under his bed. "Don't worry about him," he told it. "But it was good thinking to hide yourself. I'm sure that they wouldn't want me keeping you here, even if you are just a normal, non-magical animal." The ferret huffed. Harry raised an eyebrow at it, then laughed. "I guess you don't like being told of your short comings, ferret." He knelt, holding his hands out in front of him. "Can you come? I'll need to put your back in your cage. I'll have to leave the window open in case my owl, Hedwig, comes back, and I wouldn't want her eating you." With that, the ferret came at him hurriedly. Harry picked him up under the arms, his back end dangling him in space, and raised him to face level. "Well, since you're staying, I suppose I can't keep calling you 'ferret'" He quickly raised the animal's tail, to which it squawked indignantly. "You're a male, so…" He ran through a list of names in his mind. "So I'll call you Alby. For Albus Dumbledore." Harry suppressed the tremor in his voice, gently placing the animal in his cage. "He was the best wizard ever, so you should be proud to be named after him," he told Alby, as he closed the cage. Alby turned from him haughtily. "I promise to bring you some food when I come back, Alby. It should be soon. Sorry for the wait, little buddy." He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Dinner with the Dursleys was much as it always was. Harry sat, staring at his plate, moving food around with his fork. He ate all he could, slowly and politely, (They hadn't yelled at him for being rude to Dudley and he didn't want to antagonize them more,) all the time slipping pieces of chicken into his pocket. When he was finished, he took his plate into the kitchen, rinsing it off and putting it in the dishwasher. Aunt Petunia was very proud of the dishwasher. It was very new, and top of the line. She had gone on for weeks about how they were the first family to have one. She had even forbidden Harry to touch it at first, quickly revoking that rule when she realized that it meant that she was going to have to be the one to load his plates.

Harry made his way back to his room, stopping only to fill a plastic bowl he had found at the back of one of the cabinets with water. He placed the water carefully in Alby's cage. Alby leapt. Harry quickly withdrew his hand, thinking that Alby was going to attack him, but no, the ferret stuck his head into the bowl, drinking in great gulps. Harry chuckled, reaching back in to place the chicken beside Alby. Alby pulled his head out of the water, shaking it vigorously and spraying Harry with water, before attacking the chicken. "Glad to see that you're happy," Harry said. He latched Alby's door shut, turn turned out the lights. It had been an eventful day, compared to every other day he had spent in the Dursley's house this summer, and it had tired him out, despite the fact that he had slept through most of it. Harry slept a lot, this summer. It was the only time he could count on being alone. He sometimes still dreamt dreams that were terrible, and painful, dreams of Voldemort murdering people, and laughing. He didn't even try to block them out, but he thought he could feel Voldemort trying to, sometimes. He obviously didn't want Harry to see. But as of yet, the dreams he did see didn't seem to be actual events, but things that had happened in the past. Things Voldemort seemed to be playing for him. But he was sure that if he tried, he could break through. He was getting very good at telling what was real, and what wasn't. He felt that it was only when he was asleep that he was going anything productive, that he felt at all like himself, that the world was worth staying in. Still, though he was loath to admit it to himself, Harry hadn't felt as happy as he had today in a long time. Sure, they were just meaningless, brief moments of happiness, and he was sure to regret them eventually… but when he looked at the creature, he smiled. And that was something. With a smile on his face, he fell asleep.