Chapter 4: Letters
While Dudley and Petunia argued about Dudley's third helping of pancakes, Harry finally took the opportunity to sneak away from the kitchen and back upstairs to his room to begin writing his letters to Ron and Hermione.
To his surprise, he found Errol, the Weasley's impossibly old post owl lying exhausted on his bed. When he saw Harry, the owl feebly stuck out his leg for Harry to relieve him of his burden. Harry frowned. Why hadn't Ron used Pig?
Harry untied the letter from his leg and walking over to give Hedwig a gentle pat, he unsnapped her plastic water bowl from her cage and placed it beside a grateful Errol.
He unrolled the letter and took in Ron's untidy scrawl.
Dear Harry,
How are you? I hope the Muggles aren't getting you down.
Is Dudley still the size of a small freighter? Nevermind…
How did you like the book? More like Hermione to get you
something like that for your birthday although she probably would've
gotten you something more studious than "Candid Conversations With
the Cannons…Chudley's Finest." Check out the chapter on "Flying with
the Firebolt"...lots of new tricks and tips in that one, not that you need them!
But on a more serious note; Dad mentioned something at breakfast today;
I hope you're sitting…The Ministry's looking into unicorn disappearances
in the Forbidden Forest. Seems the populations gone down and the ones that
have been found were drained of all of their blood…not that there were a bloody
lot in the Forest to begin with, but are you catching on, mate? Fred, George,
Ginny and I could've dropped right there, but I don't think Mum and Dad
suspect, otherwise they'd never let us go back to Hogwarts…
Voldemort's still there, mate. Sorry for the bad news, look out for yourself… I'll let you owl Hermione. See you soon.
Ron.
Harry sat down on his bed heavily, shocked and more than a little apprehensive. Ron was right; the unicorn killings could only mean one thing, and now his dream…
Immediately, Harry shot up and strode to his desk, snatching up his quill and parchment to warn Hermione. It was still a month until he would see her and he wanted her prepared in case something happened in the meantime. Voldemort had already tried to take her once, who was to say he wouldn't try again?
He shifted anxiously in his seat, tapping his quill on his chin, trying to think of the best way to tell her without making her overly anxious.
Finally realizing there wasn't an easy way to break that kind of news, he began to write.
Hi Love,
I miss you so much. I can't wait to see you next month. Thanks so
much for the picture album of you, Ron and I…that was the best present
I think I've ever gotten. Who knew Colin had taken so many pictures of us?
And thanks so much for the birthday cake even though it was sugar free!
Unfortunately, I'm not writing to you just to tell you how much I love you,
even though I think you already know (wink to you).
Ron owled me a kind of disturbing letter. He said his Dad mentioned
that the Ministry's looking into quite a few unicorn disappearances. Seems
the ones that have been found were drained of their blood…I know you
know what that means, love.
I also had a pretty bad nightmare. Without going into to much detail,
Voldemort had re-summoned the Death-Eaters and had gotten his powers back.
You, Ron and I were captured; that's the basics of it. I didn't write to scare
you, I just want you to be careful, and aware.
Please take care of yourself. I'll see both you and Ron at the Three
Broomsticks in Diagon Alley the last Friday of August the 28th. Like we
planned, ok?
Until then, I love you all there is.
Harry.
Harry re-read his letter and satisfied, tied it to Hedwig's leg. Then he sat and composed a shorter letter to Ron, explaining his dream and cautioning him as well to stay alert, restating that he would see them at the Three Broomsticks in about a month.
Errol seemed rested enough, so Harry attached the letter to his leg and looked at Hedwig, admonishing her to watch over Errol as long as she could to see that he didn't drop dead. She gave him the usual tolerant nip on the finger.
He watched them with a slightly worried expression until they became small dots on the horizon; the brown dot dipping up and down in an erratic fashion. Harry smiled crookedly. Errol really was getting too old for this.
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The next month passed by rather slowly for Harry and strangely enough, he had no more nightmares, though the dreams he did have were erratic and very strange. They mostly consisted of shapes; a triangle, half circles. Surrounding the shapes he always saw an aura of intense power that changed color intermittently. The colors changed from blue to green to purple and sometimes, the colors would converge to create a band of bright translucent gold so pure, that it was almost too bright for the human eye.
He felt his dreams had significance, but couldn't for the life of him figure out what it could be. The shapes looked like something from Advanced Arithmancy, a subject Harry had never taken before and didn't plan on taking. He tried not to dwell too much on the disturbing nighttime visions, after all, he reminded himself, sometimes dreams were just that…dreams. They didn't all have to mean something.
The Dursley's, as usual, were horrible all month long. They always seemed to get worse the closer to Harry's school year it became. It was almost as if they knew his time of reprieve was coming, so they did their best to torture him as thoroughly and often as they could until his summertime prison sentence was over.
By far, the worst torture was having to sit through Dudley's summer school graduation ceremony. He'd finally made it, though by the skin of his very teeth, and the Dursley's, particularly Petunia, seemed to think Dudley had done exceptionally well and took every opportunity that they could to let Harry and the rest of the parents there know how well Harry didn't measure up. Harry, of course, informed them that he had never flunked a class, but was quickly rebutted by a very purple faced Vernon as he venomously whispered to his nephew that "unnatural schools" like Harry's didn't count.
Dudley took it all with smugness, and rubbed it (what "it" was Harry wasn't exactly sure) in Harry's face at every turn.
Dudley's eighteenth birthday was a swell occasion as well. The Dursley's, of course, threw him a swank bash, and invited Smelting's whole senior class to attend.
Harry, of course, was to stay upstairs and pretend once again that he didn't exist, but he had accidentally been seen by one of Dudley's female classmates. He had scurried back into his room quickly, but had obviously made an impression on the girl, because she immediately went to Dudley and asked him who the cute dark-haired boy was hiding up the stairs. Dudley, in his trademark hateful, jealous way, informed her that his cousin was mad, and attended St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys, which sent the whole party into an uproar. The whole night, various classmates tried to sneak upstairs to get a peek at the crazed teenage criminal.
Harry sighed inwardly and closed his eyes. Just a few more days until Diagon Alley, Ron and Hermione…his 'Mione… Just the thought of her was like a gentle breeze, calming and soothing, making him realize that life wasn't so bad after all. Just a few more days and he'd be leaving for Diagon Alley; Hedwig, broom, trunk and all. He just had to make it until then…
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