The Sugar Quill
Author: Sparrow Child  Story: Dream  Chapter: Default
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

A/N: Yes, yes, I know…I should be finishing A Different Kind of Guy, but this plot poked into my brain and wouldn’t go away so I thought I’d write it. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: Not mine…it all belongs to the great and powerful wizard of Oz…or rather…to the great and powerful witch of writing, JK Rowling!

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Summary: The night before Harry is sent his first Hogwarts letter he has a very strange dream. Something about... his parents…a mysterious letter…and magic… Takes place while Harry is locked up after letting the boa out at the zoo.

“Go – cupboard – stay – no meals!” Vernon Dursley shrieked at his nephew upon returning home from a ghastly visit to the zoo. Harry left the living room quickly, with the assistance of the sole of Uncle Vernon’s shoe. Rubbing the small of his back where his uncle had kicked him, ten-going-on-eleven year old Harry Potter climbed in to his cupboard and his bed at the same time, for the worn out old mattress was the only thing that would fit in the tiny closet under the stairs. Harry sighed. After accidentally letting a boa constrictor out of its tank in the zoo, Harry was confined to the small, dark space under the stairs until further notice. Only goodness knew when “further notice” would be. He highly doubted that he would get anything to eat ever again unless he did something about it.

Looking through the slats of the cupboard door, Harry guessed it was the middle of the night. He wiggled the lock on the door, wishing that Uncle Vernon hadn’t locked it. All of a sudden he felt the lock grow a bit warm, and it slid a little under his fingers. Eyes alight with wonder; Harry tried the locked door again. It opened! Harry slipped out of the door, feeling very, very lucky, and went to get some food from the kitchen.

A week or so later, Harry was still in his cupboard. He imagined that school would be out for the summer holiday now, and his birthday must be coming up, not that that was anything to really look forward to. Sitting on his bed, Harry leaned his head on the wall, staring into the darkness. A while later, sleep claimed him…

“Shh!!” The woman’s voice was excited and hushed. “James, shhh! You’ll wake Harry! He’s ever so excited about the letter. It’s been all I can do to get him into bed and asleep this week! He wanted to keep watch at the window tonight. You did hear from Hagrid, didn’t you?” Her shape was blurred, but Harry saw her beautiful face, looking expectant and her long red hair shining in the firelight of a cozy cottage fireplace. The man, dark haired and handsome, answered patently, as if he had answered the question before.

“Yes, Lily, it will be here soon - in a week, perhaps. Don’t worry. Everything will be perfect.” He wrapped the woman in his arms and she leaned her cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you James.” She whispered.

A flash of green light and the woman screamed. Harry tried to run towards her, but the green light was everywhere, blinding him. He couldn’t see where she was! A high-pitched laugh and the man fell. The woman screamed again and Harry woke himself up, screaming too.

“MUM! DAD! MUM!” The sound ripped from his throat, and he sat up fully, shaking. Harry wiped the cold sweat from his brow. Still shaking, he slid the cupboard door open and tiptoed down the hall. Padding to the front door, he opened it slowly, praying it wouldn’t creak. Harry sat on the low, stone wall that separated the pristine yard of Number Four from the pavement of Privet Drive and let the restless night air wash over him, cooling the fever of the dream.

Harry thought bitterly of his parents, and how wonderful life would have been with them. They loved each other, and would love him. He glanced back at the house, where the occupants were snoring uproariously. They had never loved him. Harry lay down on his back on the wall and looked up at the stars. There were so many of them. He wondered if anyone had ever bothered to count them before. Deciding to try it for himself, Harry began to count, but fell asleep after twenty or so.

As he slept, an owl swooped overhead to land on the chimney of number four. It held a letter in its beak, but as everyone on Privet Drive was sound asleep, the owl went unnoticed.

Harry awoke an hour or so later, and slipped back into his cupboard before anyone awoke and saw him sleeping on the garden wall. He shuddered to think what Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would say if they found him out of his cupboard. They didn’t know that the lock on the cupboard door was faulty, and opened without a key.

A week or so after he was finally allowed out of his cupboard, Harry was greeted by a horrid stench when he entered the kitchen for breakfast. It turned out to be his new school uniform for next year. Aunt Petunia was dyeing some old stuff gray for him. Great. Thought Harry. Now I’ll probably be called “Elephant” or some such thing at school. At least Dudley wouldn’t be there. He sighed and sat down to eat breakfast.

The mail slot clicked, and Dudley, rather than making the effort to walk all the way down the hallway, poked Harry with his new Smeltings stick to make him go get the mail. Annoyed, Harry marched down the hallway to retrieve whatever the postman had left. On the doorstep lay a postcard, a bill and…a letter for Harry.

Fin.

A/N: well…it’s an odd little plot…I’m not sure it works, but I kinda like it. I hope it’s comprehendible! Please R/R!

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