Girl Who Survived: Book Two {Harry Potter: Order of Phoenix}

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[Chapter 1: Dudley Demented]

It had been particularly hot today. It wasn't very nice having nowhere other than the old light house to go. I roamed everywhere in London, swiping food and clothes here and there. I was counting down the days until I could return to Hogwarts. It was lonely, to say the least. My faithful companion, Simba, was enough to keep me smiling.

Today, my black hair was in a ponytail, with a low bump at the front. I was wearing orange, grey, and white Nike high tops, skinny jeans that were washed, ripped, and paint splattered, a flowing strapless orange shirt, and a light gray sweater. I looked like a regular muggle teenager.

Sighing, I continued my path down the streets, occasionally kicking a rock and watching as Simba chased after it. Needless to say, Simba got a lot of double takes, and awestruck toddlers that would run after him, trying stroke his golden fur.

I walked further up a path, and saw a park. Deciding finally, that this would be my place for the night, I advanced forward.

I vaulted over the locked park gate and set off across the parched grass. Simba was able to slip through the gate, since he was so small.

Something Harry and Ron didn't know, was if Simba wanted to, or if I requested it (Yes. Somehow, Simba could understand me when I spoke to him. He possesses very many human qualities), he could grow to be bigger than an average sized cheetah. I'm guessing that's his defense mechanism.

The park was as empty as the surrounding streets. I couldn't help but to wonder why there were no children laughing and playing. It resembled that of a ghost town. These curious thoughts whirled around in my head, and my insides still writhed with sadness and longing as a sultry, velvety night fell around me, the air full of the smell of warm, dry grass, and the only sound that of the low grumble of traffic on the road beyond the park railings.

I was sitting on a bench opposite from that of the child's playset. It was because of this reason, I had not noticed someone sitting on the swing. I looked down and Simba had disappeared into the darkness after the figure. I tried to scrutinize who it was. It is very unlike Simba to be further than 3 feet from me.

I continued to stare at the figure, and all I could make out was dark hair, tall structure, and glasses.

"Simba?" The voice asked the jungle cat in a confused tone.

I began to make long strides across the gravel pit to confirm all of my suspicions on who this could be. The person became clearer and clearer as I neared.

Smiling ear to ear, "Harry?"

The boy looked up in response to his name, "Ash?"

I squeaked excitedly. He jumped up from the swing, startling Simba, and I ran to hug him. I had missed his hugs dearly. Harry had sprouted up quite a bit, though it looked as if they hadn't been feeding him as well as they should.

When we parted, Harry looked nothing short of furious, in contrast to how happy he had first been when seeing me.

"What's wrong?"

"Why didn't I hear from you, Acacia?!" He yelled, "It seems none of you talk to me!"

"Harry..." I whispered, "InkHeart is with Sirius. I don't have an owl handy, and I never stay in the same place. No one has been able to get in touch with me. Please don't be upset."

He sighed, "It's alright, I suppose. I'm sorry, I've just been a bit flustered lately. The Dursley's have that effect on me."

"It's fine." I beamed, "I'm just glad to see you!"

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