A Hated Friend

Harry Potter was about to go to bed at the Dursleys' house. He sat on his bed and tried to ignore the constant snoring of his cousin in the room next door. He sighed and looked out the window. The stars were bright and the moonlight was floating gracefully all over the trees. It was a usual summer night that most boys would find peaceful and a grand encouragement to be lazy the next day. However, it wasn't for Harry. Another summer day meant another summer and another summer meant another trip away from Hogwarts.

Harry looked at the clock and saw that it was 2:30 a.m. He wanted to go to sleep, but his body was not cooperating. Sighing again, he got up and left the room. He went downstairs and to the kitchen. After making himself a PB and J sandwich, he collapsed on the coach and pondered on what he should do. Maybe a nice walk around Little Winging would be nice? He cleared his dishes and made sure that he hadn't left any crumbs, less Aunt Petunia would have a fit. Slowly he got a coat and opened the front door to leave.

A blast of cool air hit his forehead as he walked out. There was no need for the streetlights as the moonlight was a antiquate light. There was no movement because every creature in the world was asleep except him. The wind ruffled the trees and it seemed to calm him.

He started walking down the street. Each steep gave him a calming solitude. There was no Dudley or Dursleys to annoy him and no people to scowl at him. He was there, alone, and that is how he liked it.

As Harry was rounding the corner, he suddenly tripped. He fell flat on his face and heard a loud *crunch* as his glasses broke. He slowly got up, rubbing his bleeding knee. He turned around to see what he had tripped on and found that it was a body facing down. A body was just there in the sidewalk.

Harry looked down and tried to figure if the body was still alive. He knelt and as he felt the body's skin for a pulse, a familiar shiver went through his body. This person seemed familiar. He turned the person over and jumped backwards. It was Malfoy!

What was Malfoy doing all the way over in Little Winging in the first place? Was he here because of Harry? Then Harry's mind raced: was he dead?

Harry found the pulse and in his relief found that Malfoy was still alive. He didn't want Malfoy dead, even if he was his arch enemy.

Harry picked Malfoy up onto his shoulders and slowly limped back to the Dursleys' house. He couldn't leave Malfoy out there to die.

He slowly made his way back and with difficulty, opened the front door. He dragged Malfoy up the stairs and hastily placed him on his bed. What was he doing? Why was he doing this for Malfoy? Something must be wrong in his head!! More importantly...what was he going to do?