Chapter 1: Waking Up

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 301

 

Spells
Hermione
Ron
Hagrid
Dumble--
 
Harry woke, breath split by a snort as his eyes opened. 
 
He stared at the other end of his cupboard. 
 
Memories flitted against the edge of his consciousness, and the first question appeared. 
 
Was it... All a dream? 
 
He reached out, taking his glasses and restoring his vision. Mundane. Something he felt like he hadn't done in years; not in this small space.
 
He rose from his tiny bed, immediately greeted by his desk on the other side of the staircase's cupboard. 
 
I'm... 
I'm back. 
 
Part of him wanted to float away, whether it was a wave of the wand or a glide of his broom. 
 
But he couldn't. No matter what command his whispered--no matter how he waved his hand--he remained stuck to the ground. 
 
A loud bang to his door, and a thundering of footsteps decending the stairs above.
 
"Get up," his caring aunt spat from the other side of the closet door. "There's breakfast to be made." 
 
And so, after the disappearance of her footsteps, Harry carefully opened the door. 
 
He immediately nearly shut it, as Dudley ran past, shouting about the zoo or something or the other. Harry just held in a sigh, some part of his mind knowing he had been here before. In this exact space and time, but... 
 
Something was off. He could feel it in his blood; he could feel it in his bones. 
 
His bare feet were soft against the carpet, as they walked him to the kitchen area. Breakfast; right. He had a feast to cook. 
 
His mind settled into routine, cracking eggs, frying bacon. And then, almost a full minute into his task, something caught his focus, a flash so quick he was rightfully sure it was simply a glimpse of sun. But no; he sensed something outside, some draw of energy... 
 
"Harry!" 
 
He snapped to attention, head low and bowed as he tended to the bacon yet again. But the pieces were nearly burning... Oh, this wouldn't do!
 
He moved to throw it out, when a firm hand grabbed his wrist. Harry bit back a complaint, a hiss of pain, and knew better than to voice the ache. It'd just make things worse. 
 
"And what do you think you're doing?" 
 
"U-um... The bacon," Harry began, unable to move his hand and motion with the pan. "It burned, so..." 
 
"So you're wasting food?!" his aunt spat. "Never in my heavens! That will be yours." 
 
Harry swallowed back the lump in his throat. Of course... In all his wild dreams of Hogwarts, he had always forgotten his mistreatment from his aunt and uncle. 
 
The day passed in a blur.


Submitted: March 13, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Meaghan Kalena. All rights reserved.

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