The Diamond of Light

The Diamond of the Light

Chapter 1 - Back to Privet Drive

"Now I'm warning you boy, DON'T YOU DARE to shout or scream on top of your lungs again during the night! If you do this again I'm going to skin you alive... UNDERSTAND?" Uncle Veron hissed to Harry in a threatening tone, throwing him roughly on the front door steps.

Harry scrambled to his feet, opening his mouth and trying to explain to his uncle, but before he could start his sentence, Uncle Veron had slammed the door shut. The sound of his thundering footsteps slowly disappeared as he walked back to the living room. Harry stared at the front door in disbelief. He was locked outside the house and was going to spend the night on the front door steps, without even a blanket.

Harry signed inwardly. He really did not mean to disturb other people's peaceful sleep. "I want to sleep in peace too," he thought sarcastically. A gentle hoot came from somewhere above his head and next second he found Hedwig the snowy owl had landed on the front door steps, staring at him with great concern.

"Hey girl, I'm going to spend the night here," Harry said absentmindedly, stroking Hedwig's feathers in a gentle way. Hedwig hooted again, her amber eyes widened at the expression on Harry's face. "I'm fine Hedwig, don't worry about me." He gave Hedwig a reassuring smile. But was he really fine? He had no idea. He had been having nightmares almost every night since he had gone back to the Dursleys. He felt horrible to go through what happened after the Third Task in the Triwizard Tournament... the Portkey... Cedric lying on the ground, dead... the merciless red eyes... the Cruciatus Curse... his parents' ghostly faces... Horrible feeling of guilt swept through his weaken body.

"Oh not again..." Harry moaned. He used his hands to cover his face, as if trying to block himself from witnessing the terrible ordeal again, but it was no use. Every time he dreamed about it he would yell and scream in his sleep, waking the whole house. That was why Uncle Veron was treating him so badly recently. His uncle was becoming more and more irritable because of lacking of sleep. Harry cautiously nursed his right shoulder, wrist and his left leg. Dudley had been using his Smelting Stick while Uncle Veron, using his leg, hit him or kicked him on purpose. There are bruises all over his body. Harry gasped as the pain was unbearable when he touched his newly formed wounds. Suddenly he felt someone was grabbing his left shoulder tightly, the vision of Voldemort's spider-like and deadly pale fingers come up in his mind in an instantaneous speed. He jumped a several feets high before noticing it was actually Hedwig sitting on his shoulder.

Hedwig was startled by her master's sudden response. She took off and gave a cry of indignity. She landed near the flowerbed and stared at her master again, her large amber eyes narrowed slightly.

"Sorry Hedwig, don't mean to scare you?" Harry apologized. "Wanna go hunting?" He said because he could not think of what else to say to an owl. Hedwig hooted gently, her round eyes shone with concern. She nipped Harry's finger affectionately and gave a small hoot before taking flight again, as if to say, "Be right back Harry..."

Harry watched the soaring figure of Hedwig until she disappeared in the sky. He wanted to send letters to his Godfather so badly, but he did not want to disturb and worry Sirius since Sirius was in a mission. Harry had thought of writing to Ron and Hermione too. He needed to share his feelings with somebody at least. He wanted to talk to someone that he was miserable, being mistreated by his only relatives. But every time he only managed to pull a piece of parchment out and dip his quill into the inkbottle. When he started to write, he hesitated. What if Hermione and Ron got tired of him? Would they consider him as a delicate and weak person? It was not worthy trying that. So Harry's parchment and quill laid neatly on his worn-out wooden desk. Harry only snapped out of his thought when he heard the sound of thundering in the distant sky. "It's going to be a wet night," he thought. He rested his head on his hands, elbows on his knees, and stared up to the stormy sky.