I do not own Harry Potter, nor any related words/actions/storylines/characters. All are property of J.K. Rowling.
Harry removes his glasses, massaging his tired eyes, finagling having finished the foot long essay on the components and the effects of each in the Draught of Living Death for Professor Slughorn.
Looking at the bedside table, the blurred green numbers 11:59 stare back at him, along with the date, 30/7/2007.
Rolling up the parchment and carefully putting the stopper in his inkwell, Harry prepares to remove the silencing charms around his room but pauses, instincts screaming for him not to. Remaining low to the ground, he sends his magic out, scanning for anything, anyone. No one was there, except the Dursleys and neighbours; the street was empty. The clock clicks over to show midnight, July 31st.
The air grows still and heavy and Harry pushes up to stand when a force punches him in the back, knocking him back to the floor. The force doesn't leave, digging into his skin and pulling at his shoulder blades. Biting down on his lip to stop himself from screaming, his teeth feel like they're on fire. He couldn't help it. He opened his mouth and screamed.
Down the hall, Vernon Dursley snorts in his sleep and rolls over, completely oblivious to the happenings in the next room.
As Harry's vision darkens, only one coherent thought filters through his mind.
Why doesn't my scar hurt too?
Sorry it's so short, but please, read and review