Harry Potter and the Lamp of Hazid

Harry Potter and the Lamp of Hazid

The night was cold and a wind whirled outside. Mist formed in the air embracing everything in its path. The temperature was freezing outside but Harry comfortably tucked in under the bed, did not care in the least. Warmth surrounded him and he drifted into a deep sleep.

He saw Hedwig flying towards him panicking. When he summoned her to him, and she tucked her claws into his shoulder, she looked at him worriedly unable to tell him what she saw, or what she heard. Her eyes searched him repeatedly. Harry could only look back confusingly. He looked to see if Hedwig carried some kind of a note but saw nothing of the kind; only the troubled look of Hedwig.

"What is it Hedwig?" he asked softly as he groomed her feathered back gently. Hedwig turned her head as if afraid, then she slowly turned towards him, her mouth opened slightly, just barely enough for Harry to see a rolled up note inside her mouth.

Harry gently picked the small roll that was approximately the size of his index finger and opened it. Inside there was a writing of green ink. It was so unclear and small to read that Harry almost gave up on reading it at all. Concentrating on the two words that kept disappearing and reappearing, he managed to make out "help me."

What was the meaning of this? He thought to himself. Looking at Hedwig gave him an impression that someone he loved was in danger. Nevertheless, where were they now?

"Hedwig, could you lead me the way?" he asked her in a determined tone. Hedwig nodded her head. "Ok." He said and patted her head again. He took his broom from the closet, opened the window and let Hedwig fly first. Soon after she flew through the open window, Harry mounted his broom and took of from the ground. Once he was out of the house, he did not look back; His eyes focused on Hedwig alone.

In the morning, Harry felt disconcerted. Seeing the note for help and finding Hedwig in a worried state threw a shiver down his spine the moment he remembered of the dream. Was the dream a reality? His scar did not burn during the night; neither did it hurt, so he was not sure if anything he dreamt about had to do with Voldermort. Something different bothered him; the note for help, he found in Hedwig's mouth. Usually he found the parchments carried tightly under the claws of her feet. Why should this time be different?

For the rest of the day, Harry tried to concentrate mainly on chores that his Aunt Petunia set him to do. Dudley was playing his video games as usual and Uncle Vernon mowed the loan.

As Harry vacuumed the carpets of the dining room, he began to remember last year in Hogwarts. It seemed funny now that each year the only thing he ever seemed to be doing was fighting Voldermort. Last year, however, was the worst, and even an innocent life was lost - the life of Cedrick Diggory.

Harry still blamed himself for what has happened. Most of all he hated the fact that he was picked by the goblet of fire. Not only was he hated and envied by others but Ron lost his trust in him as well. That was a nightmare for Harry.

"Hurry up and do the living room Harry! I don't want this racket to go on all day, do you understand?" Yelled his Aunt Petunia.

"Yeh, yeh," he said under his breath.

"I can't hear you!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia!" He said louder this time. The vacuum cleaner's noise was nothing for a racket compared to the mowing done by Uncle Vernon, or the screaming of joy each time Dudley won or scored a goal in his football game on his PlayStation, a new one brought by Uncle Vernon to replace the last one Dudley had threw out of his window the summer before.

Harry could not wait to go back to Hogwarts. At least in Hogwarts he had his best friends beside him. He did not know what he would do if he lost one of his best friends. Both Ron and Hermione were precious to him.

The dream however, kept reappearing in his mind, only at times, did he see his friends needing his help. He would not allow his friends to be hurt by anyone; not if he can help it himself. Even though he had been lucky so far to get away from the evil of Lord Voldermort, he was not sure how long he would be safe. Harry fell in to deep thought. What if once he finished Hogwarts, Voldermort hiding in the darkness, finally got a hold of him? No one could protect him then, for the Hogwarts safety walls will no longer surround him. As far as Voldermort was concerned, Harry was dead meat.

Harry gulped. On other thoughts, he quelled the awful thought and focused on brighter things. By the time he graduated from Hogwarts, perhaps he would have mastered skills of his own to fend of evil and might not be in desperate need of help. There was also, however, the Ministry of Magic, whom he could always turn to for help, and maybe Dumbledore could give him some advice.

When Harry went back to his bedroom and laid down on the bed, chores finally done, he closed his eyes for a few minutes and let his thoughts wander, especially to his godfather Sirius Black. He was so glad that Black told him the truth; at least he believed it was the truth; His innocent godfather in Azkaban...Poor Sirius. He should not have been sent there for the first place. Wormtail should have taken his place instead.

Harry snapped open his eyes as a surge of anger ran through him. How could a best friend betray a best friend after so much trust has been put into the friendship?

Harry felt the heat rise in his face as he thought of Wormtail's betrayal. He took a pillow and punched it several times. Never in his life could he imagine to do so cruel a thing. He would rather have died than betray his closest friends.

At least, Harry sighed, Sirius was still alive and well even though his health deteriorated.

It still amazed him how his godfather survived Azkaban, to suffer eternal depression, the happy thoughts sucked out by the awful hooded creatures whose faces never showed...

Harry felt sick. He had to forget about the Dementors. They only caused him troubles in Hogwarts, and he was not looking forward to repeating his bad experiences. That's it, I have to stop wallowing in my own misery...making a swift decision, Harry pulled himself off his bed and sat down at his desk, pulling out a parchment and quill as he did so. Writing a letter to Ron would take his mind off of dismal things, at least that's what he hoped.

Hedwig must have sensed that a job was coming soon, because she began to move about in the cage excitedly hooting from time to time, trying to tell Harry that she looked forward to send a post.

Harry looked at her for a moment and put his finger in the cage, letting her nip it affectionately, knowing she was happy. Dipping the quill into the inkbottle, wrote, Dear Ron, and paused.

Hedwig stopped fluttering in her cage, and froze watching his every move making concentration hard for Harry.

It seemed he sat next to the desk for quite a while, just thinking how to construct his letter, but soon after, he found his focus, and wrote,

How are you? How are you spending your holidays?

My holidays were not less than a nightmare, I tell you. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon have never acted meaner than this year when I came back from Hogwarts. I was made to do many awful chores, which you might not believe, have never been done before. I know that they are not my parents, thank god for that, but I am still part of their family, whether they like it or not, (I definitely don't!) and they should respect that, don't you think?

Let me know what your plans are for the next few weeks. Maybe we could get in touch and meet before school starts.

Harry

Before Harry managed to roll up the parchment and send it with Hedwig, Dudley came into the room with a cruel smile on his face.

"What are you doing Harry?" the question sounded innocent but Harry doubted that his intensions were.

Harry quickly hid the paper behind his back and said, "None of your business."

This response maddened Dudley even more, so he took a step forward trying to block Harry from passing through. Again he asked, "What are you doing Harry?" he said again, more clearly, more impatiently, with a small satisfaction in his pudgy face.

Harry tried to move to the left. He just needed to get past Dudley so he could get to Hedwig and pass her the letter. Dudley destroyed his plan on purpose, moving to the side to block Harry again, the smile on his face increasing.

Harry stood firmly on the ground. He had to think quickly. He knew that Dudley was going to use him for a punch bag again if he would not do something fast. I will pretend to conjure a spell on him and that might frighten him away! He was so glad that Muggles could not read the mind of others.

"So are you planning to tell me what you are up to, or should I just start punching you?" Dudley said crossing his arms, the smile on his face getting to what Harry could compare to the Devil's Advocate.

But then again...Harry smiled grimly. "If you put one finger on me, you'll be very sorry."

Dudley found that hilarious. He could not stop laughing, holding his stomach in the process, which kept bouncing up and down.

Harry did not laugh for he was deadly serious.

"That's the funniest thing I ever heard," Dudley said midway as he laughed, snorting after words.

"You think so?" Harry was acting as courageous as he could. He knew he could not use real magic outside Hogwarts, but a pretend-magic wouldn't hurt his lovely pig of a cousin, Dudley after all.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" said Harry running out of patience. He wanted to send the letter before Aunt Petunia came up to see what is going on.

"Punching you out wins any other activities during the day." Dudley said, and a toothy smile spread on his face, as he got ready to punch Harry.

"Oh yeh? And what if I told you that if you dared punch me, I will turn you into a toad and you'll never ever be able to punch me again?" Harry said with full confidence. He had to show his bully cousin, who was boss.

Dudley's smile vanished. "You can't do magic outside school!"

"Yes but for this spell I don't need to use a wand, for I learnt to do it in my head, which means that I could use it, if ever someone bothered me."

Dudley did not know what to say. It was hard enough to take in the fact that his cousin could actually beat him, the hero, but to be able to perform magic without a wand began to scare him. Using a wand outside the school was forbidden, but if there is no rule against the performance of mind spells, Dudley might just have fallen into a trap. It took him a while to realize that he was, in fact, stuck in the pit, and the only solution would be to back off if he did not wish to be a toad for the rest of his life. His parents would still pity him, no matter how he looked like, but he did not plan to live his life as a toad for the rest of eternity!

"Fine," Dudley said. "You won, but if I find out that you've been tricking me, you'll be a very sorry boy wishing you were never born!" He said and slowly backed away, his eyes still watching Harry's every move. When he was out the door, he ran and did not look back to see the face of Harry about to burst into laughter.

*****

After Harry sent of Hedwig out the window with the parchment tightly tied to her feet, he returned to the bed, practically sinking into it.

Sometimes he did wish he were never born. What kind of life awaited him now that he had no support from his parents? He did not like the life he lived, sharing a house with a family that did not even want to include him. How could his mother, even though she was alive once, was able to endure her horrible sister? Did Aunt Petunia hate her sister because she was jealous of her? Jealous of the fact that she was different and Aunt Petunia was not?

Harry did not want to live a life of constant war and hate. If he could not live with his parents at the time, at least, his godfather might bring him close to his family. He was their best friend after all, was he not? He was their friend in bad times and in good, and went to Hogwarts with them, graduated with them and even attended their marriage celebration. He was their life, and if Harry could not live with Sirius, he would not live with his Aunt. His Aunt did not want him; neither did his Uncle, for he was nothing for them except a piece of dirt. He knew he was different, but he still belonged in their family no matter what.

Harry wondered what it was like when his father, James, was a boy his age attending Hogwarts with his best friend, Sirius. They were probably those adventurous kids, roaming the school at night in search for secret passages getting in trouble from time to time.

Snape, Harry thought, was also a student at the time when James attended Hogwarts. He wondered what kind of student he was. He was probably very similar to Draco Malfoy, with the same smirk on his face and the same cold evil eyes hating James the moment he saw him.

Harry shuddered when he remembered of Professor Snape. What made him so cruel? Becoming a Death Eater to Lord Voldermort must have surely changed him but what about before that? Was he the same in Hogwarts as he was even before attending there?

Harry closed his eyes and imagined his father and mother beside him. They were looking out to the sun setting on a beach, the wind breezing through their hair, cooling their skin. Lily's bright hair carried by the wind was stuck on the zip of her collar. James watched her as she pulled it free, smiling. Little Harry sat comfortably on his shoulder, embraced to the view in front of him, kicking his legs happily. A bit of sand flew into his eyes, and he began crying attracting his parents' attention. James took him down and held him in his arms, Lily with a worried look on her face tried to calm him, while James searched to see if there was anything wrong with Harry. He found his left eye half closed, and red. The baby still cried. James took out his wand and held it to Harry's face muttering a few words. Drops of water fell in pearls down his face and washed the dirt away from Harry's small round eyes, ceasing the crying.

Lily took Harry to her, and held him firmly but gently in her arms, rocking him back and forth, his eyes shutting slowly. Both his parents looked at him admiringly and then made their way home.

When Harry opened his eyes, tears descended to his face, wetting his cheeks. Oh, how he missed them... Not even one memory of them did he have, only an album book to show him what a life they had together...He wanted to speak with them, to hug them and to tell them all his problems. No more did he have them, due to the murder by Voldermort. He was parentless now and nothing could be done about it. If only he could bring them back...

More tears streamed down his face. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

A few hours passed, and it began to darken outside, bringing along the change of the weather.

Hedwig returned to her cage, her eyes closed as she slept only sometimes hooting softly in her sleep.

When Harry woke up, it was already evening. His stomach rumbled aggressively as he sat up in his bed.

He stood up to go downstairs to get some food when he saw a parchment on his desk. As he neared it and picked it, he saw the messy writing. It was from Ron.