Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters, places, spells and the world she created. They do not belong to me. I only take credit for Haley Brown and the plot she creates!
The hot but comforting smell of the August summer air filled the bedroom of number four Privet Drive that overlooked the rest of the dead end street. The sound of distant cars and trucks rumbled in the background and crickets could be heard a short distance away. A blaring television was heard below, occasionally interrupted by Uncle Vernon’s complaints about the reception and Aunt Petunia’s attempts to sooth his anger.
Harry Potter lay in his single bed that he had pushed against the only window in his humble abode. He gazed at the white washed ceiling with a vacant stare. He was physically at his miserable summer residence but mentally he was worlds away.
Thoughts of a his seventh and final year at Hogwarts filled his mind. He was so excited at the idea of going back to the only real home he had ever known that he was unable to sleep. Letters from Ron and Hermione of there leisurely summer vacations had been few and far between which only made it more unbearable for Harry to wait until the end of August to return to school.
He could not wait until Quidditch. Only days earlier had he received notice that he was to be the captain of the Gryffindor team. Harry had been hoping to attain the position and now it was finally his. He had already started to brainstorm play ideas and drills.
Harry suddenly came out of his day dreaming state at strange sounds that seemed to be coming from outside. He sat up and craned his neck partially out the open window. Privet Drive was dark. It was early in the morning, about ten to two and all the houses were ominously lightless. The only light was that of porch light and the lone street lamp at the far end of the street. Harry’s emerald eyes scanned the vacant street for the source of the sound but he had no luck. It seemed that no one or no thing was there besides the odd cat.
Harry accounted the strange noise to his Uncle Vernon who was not known to be of the quiet variety. Harry slowly lay back down and tried to shut his eyes. His thoughts then filled again with those of Hogwarts. He had almost reached a gentle slumber when his lightning-shaped scar seared with pain. Harry cupped his right hand to his forehead. The pain continued and he gave low grunts of discomfort, holding in what would be yells if his Aunt and Uncle were not in the living room below.
After what seemed like the most excruciating minutes of his life, the pain soon subsided enough so that Harry unclenched his teeth. He let his right hand drop back to his bed in which he was sitting straight up. He was panting and felt warm sweat starting to run down his forehead.
The television suddenly turned off and the sounds of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia heading off to bed filled the house.
“Petunia, I’m going to be late tomorrow night from work. Big meeting with the firm you know,” said Uncle Vernon in a bragging tone.
“I know Vernon. Diddykins will be out with his little friends so I shall wait to make dinner,” replied Petunia.
“Of course, of course but I would really...” Uncle Vernon’s voice trailed off as they passed Harry’s room and went into the master bedroom.
Harry was now straining to make sure that the Dursleys were in bed before he dared to move. Once their voices had disappeared Harry looked around the room. The air seemed too still and silence was all Harry could hear. Suddenly it happened again, the strange noise Harry had heard before now drifted into the room through the open window.
Harry strained to hear the noise more clearly. They were sobs. The sound was of someone or something crying. Harry quickly whipped his body around to the window and craned his neck out the window for the second time that night. His eyes adjusted to the dark and he quickly searched the deserted street for the source of the cries.
At first glance the street seemed empty once again but at a closer look Harry realized that a porch light was illuminating a silhouette of someone. He moved his head further out the window for a closer look. Suddenly something inside of him lurched. The cries had stopped abruptly and he now saw the source of the mysterious sound. It was a girl; a girl now lying lifelessly on the pavement of Privet Drive.
Without hesitation Harry jumped out of the bed. He ran as quickly as he could towards the door, grabbing his wand from the dresser on the way. He halted at the door to slow down and turn the knob with as little sound as possible. He slowly turned it and as soon as the door was open he flew down the stairs. His hand was outreached to the front door and he was out the door in seconds.
The still air of the summer night hit his face as he entered the vacant drive. He instantly spotted the lifeless figure of the girl and rushed towards it.
Panic and fear started to creep up inside of him. What if she was dying? What had happened to her?
Harry tried to push these thoughts away as he reached her. Sandy blonde hair covered her face. He brushed the strands away and listened closely for her breathing. Harry felt the warm, slow breaths on his cheek. Relieved, he turned her on her back. The porch light shone just enough for Harry to see blood streaming from her forehead.
Harry looked around for any sign of life to help him. Here he was alone, on Privet Drive with a bleeding unconscious girl. What would he do? Looking around, he decided that he had to do something. Not really thinking about what he was about to do, he slid his arms under the girl’s body and picked her up. Not knowing what to do next he looked around once more. Every house was dark. But suddenly a light appeared in one of the windows. Surprised Harry froze still carrying the girl in his arms. The front door of the house abruptly opened and out walked Mrs Figg. Shuffling towards Harry, he noticed she was wearing a rather disturbing expression of fear.
“Mrs Figg, thank god. I just looked out the window and found her crying and now she’s unconscious and she’s bleeding and,” Harry spat out not knowing how he formed the words for Mrs Figg so quickly.
“Harry, take her back in the house. Just lie her down somewhere. I have received urgent orders from Dumbledore so just stay put with her and someone will come within minutes. Harry get inside, NOW!” Mrs Figg interrupted seeming more afraid than ever.
“But Mrs Figg, WAIT! What am I waiting for? She might be dying! Mrs Figg!” Harry yelled at her but it was too late. Mrs Figg had already started to shuffle back towards her home and did not bother to turn back and respond to Harry’s cries for help.
Harry stood in place for a moment. He was so confused. Nothing made sense. How did Dumbledore know anything about this? What did this have to do with him or with anything else?
Suddenly realizing that the girl was beginning to stir, he decided not to ask questions until later. He turned on his heel back to the Dursleys but what he saw next horrified him. A street away, hanging over a a roof identical to every other, hung the Dark Mark.
Harry’s body stiffened. He become a frozen statue. His brain and his heart were screaming at him to get in the house but every fiber in his body refused to let him move. Harry’s mind was racing with thoughts. Harry shook the thought of Voldemort and the Dark from his mind when he felt the girl stir once again in his arms.
Harry unplanted his feet from the ground and made his way quickly to the front door of the Dursleys. Opening the door, making sure not to make any noise, Harry crept up the stairs and into his dark, familiar room. He lay the girl down on his disheveled bed.
Now able to really see the girl in a clearer light, his stomach did a belly-flop. The girl lying in his bed was one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. Not even Cho Chang, his love interest of few years compared. Harry had never before had a girl in his room, let alone an unconscious one. What if she woke up? What would he tell her? He wished whoever was supposed to come to his rescue would come before she woke.
Feeling awkward, Harry looked out the window once more. Mrs Figg’s house was now completely dark. The porch light had returned to being the only source of light. The light across the street seemed to highlight just enough of the girl lying in Harry’s bed for him to see her closed eyes, blonde, shoulder length hair, nose and slightly puffy lips.
Harry noticed that the bleeding on her forehead had seemed to lessen and Harry was relieved that she was still alive.
He moved away from the window and took a seat on the old wooden chair by his desk. Spell books, parchment and quills lay across the surface along with a few letters scattered here and there. Harry continued to watch the unconscious girl lying in his bed. He wondered if Voldemort had caused this. That he had killed tonight and this girl had escaped. Was she a muggle? Did she know about magic?
Harry’s thoughts disappeared when a loud CRACK filled the room. Standing in the area near the closet now stood Dumbledore accompanied by Remus Lupin. Lupin greeted Harry first.
“Hello Harry. Oh dear, oh dear.” He mumbled quickly before moving towards the injured girl.
“Thank you Remus. We’ll take her back to headquarters and assist her there,” said Dumbledore, not taking his gaze off of Harry.
“Harry, Thank you for your brave effort but do not be as bold next time. I...I mean we will explain when you come to headquarters tomorrow. Until then,” spoke Lupin, seeming rushed and a bit flustered.
“Um, yeah...sure, but are you are sure you can’t...?” But Lupin interrupted Harry before he could finish. Scooping up the girl in his own arms, he carried her towards Dumbledore and looked at Harry with an unsettling glance.
“Tomorrow Harry, I promise.” said Lupin. And with that Dumbledore, Lupin and the girl had disappeared just as fast as they had appeared.
Harry was speechless. He had so many questions. Where to start, with all of the things that had just happened to him, he would have been lucky to tell left from right.
Thoughtlessly, he made his way over to his bed and lay back down. Turning on his side, he pulled the tangled sheets up towards his face. A faint smell of vanilla filled his nose and he was instantly reminded that a girl had been lying in his bed. But not just any girl, a girl that Harry desperately wanted to know. He started to drift to sleep still thinking of the girl without a name.
Author's Note: The plot thickens. Will Harry ever see this girl again? Will Dumbledore and Lupin really explain everything to Harry? You will have to keep reading to find out! Please let me know what you think and leave a review!
Write a Review Running From the Present: Girl Without a Name