Through The Fire

The Boy Who Lived

The sun beat down on the houses of Privet Drive. Nearly everyone was inside their homes because of the stifling summer heat. A silver tabby cat was sitting in the shade of a shrub, watching two young boys play in one of the neat little yards. One of them was chubby and blond, his face round and pink. The other boy was thin and had untidy dark hair and round glasses.

The blond was playing with a ball, kicking it and then chasing it after it. He was holding a blue ice lolly in one meaty fist. The brunet didn't have a toy to play with or an ice lolly. He glanced frequently at the various toys scattered on the lawn but he didn't touch them. He amused himself by chasing a bug in the grass.

The smaller boy managed to pick up the bug and held it gently in his palm. But, it was as if his contentedness drew the other boy's spitefulness. Abruptly, the blond tackled the smaller boy, knocking him to the ground. The brunet cried out in pain, but the larger boy didn't seem concerned.

The cat darted forward abruptly, hissing and growling, startling the larger child into backing away. And then a wicked smile curled on his face. He lunged for the cat, laughing unkindly. Then he drew his foot back, aiming to kick the tabby.

"No!" the brunet cried, pushing at the bigger boy, knocking the ice lolly to the ground. The blond halted his attack on the cat to turn on the smaller child, wrenching the brunet's arm and shoving him to the ground roughly. This time the smaller boy screamed in agony.

"Diddykins?" a woman called out, running out the front door of the house.

The chubby boy screwed up his face and wailed. "He made me drop my ice lolly! He pushed me!" the blond cried, though not shedding a single tear.

"My poor darling," the woman said, hugging the blond to her thin frame. She cast a look of disgust at the crying little boy on the ground. "Come inside Dudders. We'll get you a new ice lolly."

"I want two," the boy declared, following his mother inside the house.

The cat held very still, waiting until the door had closed. Then it crept closer to the weeping child, sniffing at his face and tentatively licking at his tears. He whimpered as he moved, carefully sitting up to cradle his left arm to his chest. The cat bit down on the bottom of the boys shirt, tugging him. Luckily, the little boy allowed it, letting the tabby guide him to rest in the shade of the bushes. He relaxed on his side, his chest heaving with sobs. The cat nuzzled him, purring loudly.

The cat got up to move away, stopping as the boy sat up with a whimper. Meowing softly, the tabby placed one foot on the boys cheek. "I'll st-stay here," the boy stuttered, swallowing hard. He laid back down when the cat chirruped in response, his green eyes watching as the cat disappeared through the hedge. A moment later there was a sort of cracking sound.

The boy closed his eyes, hoping to sleep away the worst of the pain. His tears continued to flow as he wished for the cat to return.

Minerva McGonagall stepped through the fireplace and into Albus Dumbledore's office. "I warned you," she snarled without bothering with a proper greeting. "I told you that those muggles were the worst sort imaginable."

"Minerva, what's gotten you so worked up?" Albus asked, peering over his half moon spectacles. Minerva wasn't prone to hysterics, so he knew to take her seriously when she made such a dramatic entrance.

"Harry Potter is neglected and abused by those people," Minerva said, her tone ice cold.

"Surely, Petunia-"

"She left him outside alone after her useless lump of a son broke Harry's arm," Minerva snapped. She had the sudden urge to knock everything off of his desk. How could he have made such a horrible mistake?