Star-Crossed

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Trapped in Warnings

Two days later, Harry and I were sitting together in silence. He was fiddling aimlessly with his wand, staring out over the rooftops of Little Whining wistfully. So far, this summer holiday had felt like the longest one in existence.

I was resting on Harry's bunk, the lower one in our new room. I say new lightly. It was Dudley's old bedroom, the wallpaper was scratched and peeling off. All of the furniture was sagging and old. It wasn't the newest room. But it was new to us and that's really all that mattered.

I flicked through the picture book Hagrid gave us as we were leaving Hogwarts the year before. I was smiling softly at the image of me and Harry with our parents when we were infants. Then as I turned the page, there was a group picture of the two of us and all of our friends. Hermione, Ron, Dahlia, Elena, Seamus, Neville, Poppy. All of them lumped up with us in a big group as we all laughed and moved around, trying to stay still for the camera.

Oh I missed them so much.

A sudden chirp and shriek from next to our desk startled the both of us out of our dazes and we looked toward the two cages that rested beside it.

Signy was squeaking desperately and pecking at the lock on her cage as Hedwig merely observed for a moment, and then decided to join in on her friend's revolt.

Harry sighed, "We can't let you out. We're not allowed to use magic outside of school." Hedwig nibbled at her back and squawked loudly as Signy straightened up with a dejected hoot.

"Besides," I spoke up, sitting up and scooting forward on Harry's bed, "if Uncle Vernon-"

Right as I said that, the dreaded man shouted from downstairs, "Potters!"

I gasped, glancing toward the door that led from the bedroom, "Oh, now you've done it." I groaned softly. Harry let out a sigh as he got up and waved for me to follow him downstairs.

My jaw clenched as my stomach turned over nervously and I followed my brother, snapping the photo album shut and leaving it behind.

In the kitchen, Aunt Petunia was working on a beautiful pudding cake as Vernon and Dudley were standing in the living room.

As soon as our Aunt noticed us entering, she turned her beady eyes toward the sitting room, "They're in there, Vernon."

Harry and I passed her and entered the living room, where Uncle Vernon was busy fitting Dudley's suit onto his fat body.

"I'm warning you," Our Uncle snarled, glowering at us from over his son's head, "If you can't control those bloody birds, they'll have to go."

"But they're bored," Harry sighed, "If we could only let her out for, maybe an hour or two."

Vernon chuckled mockingly, "So you can send secret messages to your freaky little friends? Hm, no sir."

My lips pursed as I grew upset, "But, neither of us have heard from any of our friends, all summer?"

Dudley snorted, "Who would want to be friends with you?" He brushed past us, rudely smacking his shoulder into Harry's.

"I think you should be a little more grateful," Vernon snapped, stalking toward us, "We've raised you both since you were babies, given you the food off of our table, we even let you have Dudley's second bedroom! Purely, out of the goodness of our hearts."

I scoffed, fighting back the sneer that tried to force its way onto my face. Goodness my arse.

"Not now, bumpkins." Petunia chided sweetly to her son as he tried to stick a pudgy finger into the cake, "It's for when the Masons arrive."