Dear Hermione,
How are you? Good I hope. I hope you didn't get in trouble with your parents for what happened at the Ministry. You were right -- I do have a saving people thing. I hope that I can sort that out. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you and/or Ron. I hope you guys can forgive me for being so stupid. I promise I'll try harder not to act without thinking. Will you help me with that?
The Dursleys are starving me again. What are the chances of your mom sending me some of those delicious brownies? You know, the ones with the fudge frosting? I'd like that. As always I can't wait until summer is over.
Hope your summer is better than mine.
Harry
PS: How's Vicky?
Dear Ron,
All I've been able to think about since I've returned to this hellhole Dumbledore forces me to call home is Sirius. I honestly can't believe I was that reckless. Well, I can but I'd rather not. Hermione was right. I do have a saving people thing. I need to fix that. Quickly, before I get anyone else killed.
The Dursleys have been treating me even worse than they usually do, now that they've found out about Sirius' death. They blame me (so do I) and rub it in my face constantly. Sometimes I can't take it and I just… snap. I start yelling back, and that's when things get really ugly -- Uncle Vernon or Dudley throttles me, and Aunt Petunia withholds food from me for days. I think I've lost as much weight as Dudley's gained, and that's saying something.
I hate them; I really, really hate them.
Harry
PS: Ask your mom if she'll send me some food or a nutritional supplement. Or something.
I finished my letter to Ron and tied it, and my letter to Hermione, to Hedwig's leg and sent her off.
"What a nightmare last term was." I sigh to myself.
My stomach growls, and I remember that I hadn't eaten since… since nearly a week and a half ago. I shake my head. I cannot believe that I haven't eaten a proper meal since school let out for the holidays. My stomach growls again, and I grimace at the thought of continuing my liquid diet. There's only so much that tap water can do for you.
"What I wouldn't give for some pumpkin juice and a treacle tart…" My stomach growls again. "I hear you, I hear you." I tell it, wrapping my arms around myself. Oh god, was I just talking to my stomach? Out loud? I must be losing it. I need food, before I go crazy. My stomach growls again. Loudly. I can't believe it's come to this.
"Kreacher!" I whisper, trying not to wake my relatives. "Kreacher!"
Nothing.
Damned good-for-nothing house elf… what's the point of having one if it doesn't do as you say? Note to self: strangle Kreacher.
"Kreacher!" I cry out in desperation as my stomach growls painfully for the umpteenth time. Scratch strangling him; I'm going to murder him when he gets here. Right after he brings me something to eat. "Bloody good for nothing…"
"Nasty little half-blood calling Kreacher, waking Kreacher up in the middle of the night…"
"Kreacher!" I whirl around to face him. "You will not speak ill of your master. Not even your dead master, understood?"
He glares at me. "Kreacher understands. Kreacher doesn't like but Kreacher will obey. Not like Kreacher has a choice…"
I choose to ignore his childish ranting for now. There are more pressing matters at hand. "Bring me some food. Some delicious food that is not burnt, is not spoiled, and is not poisoned, understand?"
"Kreacher understands. Kreacher will not poison the young ha—master. Not like Kreacher could…"
"Good, go, and be quick about it."
"Yes master." Kreacher says as he bows and disappears.
I flop over onto my bed with a weary sigh. God, how did it come to this?