five years later.
I walked home from school on a hot Friday afternoon. Alone. As always. But luckily it had been the last day today, so I didn't have to go through Comp without a friend for atleast six weeks. Fitting in wasn't exactly one of my traits. Heck, anything social wasn't considered a plausable trait for me. I wanted to be friendly, to be noticed and to socialise. But I couldn't find it in my heart to make the effort anymore.
It had been five years since Harry Potter left. Did he ever atleast try to speak to me during that time? Of course not. Do you know what my last words to him were? "don't forget me..."
Fat load of bloody good that did.
I bet he wouldn't even recognise me.
Whilst I'm stuck in the never ending loop that is my neighbourhood, Harry is off somewhere in the countryside of Scotland, in some sort of fancy, high class private school. He'd said he would come home in the Summers and Christmas.
He never did return at Christmas, and the last few summers my parents took me on holidays.
Maybe he had returned.
But I'd know about it if he had, right?
Ever since, I'd been a nobody. A ghost. I ate at breaktime alone. I studied alone. I worked alone. I did everything alone.
And it got me down.
It really did.
I feel my school shirt begin to stick to my back with sweat, so I pull my jumper over my head, and tuck it away in my bag. I brush my brown hair out of my eyes, before pressing on, walking at a casual pace down the road, and into my street.
Privet Drive was quiet. Not many kids my age lived around here. Unless you count Dudley Dursley, who lived at number four, where Harry used to live. I didn't like Dudley anyway. If I'm quite frank, he's an utter dickhead. Perhaps it's because everytime I look at him, I think about Harry.
But who am I kidding.
I hate him anyway.
I walk up the drive to my house, glancing over at number four Privet Drive like I always did. I stopped infront of the door, smiling sadly at the Dursley's home. I took a deep breath in, then exhaled, and opened the door.
I slung my school bag onto the hook in the hallway, before walking into the kitchen, where my Mum was working away at some sort of cake creation. "Hey."
I say, opening the fridge and pulling out a glass bottle of Coke. "Hey!"
She says, flashing pearly white teeth over he shoulder. I looked alot like my mum. We both had a pale, pixie like complexion, and the same dirt-brown hair colour. Except hers formed a bob around her jaw line, and mine was so long it went past my chest. I had her hazel coloured eyes too. The only differences was the hairstyle, and age appearance. She looked only slightly older than me. "How was school?"
"Great." I say, smiling.
That was a lie.
Mum thinks I actually have freinds. She couldn't be more wrong. I leave the kitchen, before jogging up the stairs lightly. I walk down the landing, before opening my bedroom door, and re-closing it behind me. I sat on my bed, and brought my knees up into a cradle postion, before glancing around my room.
The double bed that I sat on was to the right of the room, pressed up against the wall. Next to that was the window, and on the other side of the window was my wardrobe. By the door was my desk, and TV. It was pretty basic. The walls were painted an earthy brown, and the lampshade overhead cast a warm glow in the room. I'd collected dreamcatchers over the years, fifteen in total, and they were all draped randomly around. On my desk I had a vintage globe, and around my walla were small fairy lights. I had a few posters on my wall, of places I'd love to go. But that's all. I began absent mindedly picking at the wallpaper next to me, when there was a gentle knock at my bedroom door.. "Sweety," My mum called throught the wood, "Mrs Dursley is here to see you."
Mrs Dursley?
Harry's Auntie?
What was she doing here?
I raised my eyebrow, before hauling myself off of the bed, and opening the door to my Mum. "What? Why?"
I ask. She shrugs. "I have no clue."
She sighs. "But you never do with them bloody Dursleys."
She mumbles to herself, heading off towrds her bedroom. I trodged down the stairs, not particularly excited to see Petunia Dursley. She was stuck up, rude and inconsiderate. She was nothing but cruel to Harry.
I entered the living room to see Petunia Dursley, sitting on my sofa, turning her nose up slightly at the furniture designs of my living room. She forced a smile when she saw me enter. "Ah, Tallie."
Her voice was clearly masking the fact she wasn't too thrilled to be here. I scowled, raising my eyebrow. "Mrs Dursely."
I said blankly, sitting down opposite her, and crossing my arms. I don't owe her any sign of kindness. Why should I? Being Petunia, she was, with no shock, taken back by my lack of enthusiasm. Shaking off the thought, she continued to smile an extremely fake smile. "I have something for you."
she sat up slightly, pulling out something from her red knitted cardigan pocket. "From Harry."
I felt overwhelmed at those words.
From Harry?
My Harry?
He wrote back?
I grinned. I couldn't be more happy, as I snatched the envelope out of her hands, making Petunia gasp slightly. Like I gave a crap right now.
Hold on.
He writes back....after five years?
That git.
I shouldn't even open this bloody letter.
Should I?
I stared down at the envelope, frowning. I let out a sigh. I didn't care anymore. I missed him too much to care. I furiously tore at the seal, until all that was left was parchment. Why was he writing on parchment? It wasn't important, I read it anyway.
Tallie,
I'm so sorry I haven't written back after all these years. I know you may not believe me, but I honestly never did forget you. I can't explain why I hadn't written back, I've been under certain circumstances. but I would have if I could have. I miss you so much and I'll be returning this Summer. We have to cram five years of catching up in six weeks, so I'm sorry to inform you you're kinda stuck with me. I'll look forward to seeing you again. If you'll accept my apology. See you in a few days,
-Harry.
The paper fell to the floor, slipping from my fingertips. He's coming back. "Mum!"
I squealed, practically hypervenalating with joy. "He's coming back!"
"Who is?"
Mum yells, running down the stairs as if she'd been informed the house was on fire. She looks from me, to a schocked Petunia, to me again, raising an eyebrow. "Harry!"
I squeal. This was too good to be true. Harry's back! For six weeks. why wasn't I mad at him? Should I be mad? I didn't want to be mad. I'm never good at holding grudges. Damn me. This was all happening so fast. Two days, then he'd be here. It would be honest to say I didn't sleep at all last night. I'd see my best friend again, and I couldn't have been happier. Just two more days. Two more days.
