The languorous haze of the beginning of summer enveloped Privet Drive, the sun draping everything in a cozy yet stifling warmth. Number Four, however, felt far from cozy for Harry Potter.
Tucked away in his scruffy little room, he fidgeted uncomfortably at his desk by the windowsill, the oppressive walls surrounding him echoing the dull thrum of mundane imperfection. He could hear the distant chatter of neighborhood children playing, their laughter painting the air with the vivid colors of freedom he so desperately longed to feel. It was a stark reminder of the vibrant life that lay beyond the Dursleys' restrictions, a life filled with magic, friendship, and possibility.
Outside, the warm breeze brought with it the scent of summer blossoms and freshly trimmed grass. It ruffled the leaves on the trees lining the street, a gentle whisper of adventure that seemed to pulse just out of reach. Inside, however, all Harry felt was the tyrannical weight of his relatives' indifference, punctuated by his Uncle Vernon's booming voice demanding silence.
But today promised to be different. Very different, apparently.
Harry could scarcely believe his eyes. Down the street, shadows took shape, stretching longer as twilight settled in, and suddenly, the air crackled with anticipation. The unmistakable figures of familiar friends began to draw near. Sirius Lupin-Black strode forward, his wild mane of dark hair dancing in the warm breeze, exuding a palpable air of defiance and freedom that felt almost tangible. Beside him, hand-in-hand, walked Remus Lupin-Black, calm and composed, each step infused with unshakable loyalty, his gentle eyes flickering with determination. A few paces behind them was Draco Lupin-Black, the embodiment of contradictions, wearing an amused smirk that hinted at both annoyance and enjoyment. Finally, there was Gemini Lupin-Black, ever effervescent, practically hopping along, her silver orbs shimmering with the promise of mischief as she radiated uncontained enthusiasm.
In that moment, Harry understood—something significant was about to happen. A sense of foreboding washed over him, and he raced down the steps, paying no mind to the shouts of the Dursleys, who were nestled in the family room, engrossed in their movie night.
Harry's heart raced as the doorbell rang with an unexpected certainty, piercing the monotonous stillness of Number Four. The sound sent the Dursleys into a flurry of anxious whispers, their eyes wide with alarm. As the door swung open with a reluctant creak, it slammed against the beige wall, sending Dudley scrambling to hide behind the couch. Harry half-wondered if he was imagining things, but there, in the doorway, stood Sirius—unapologetically defiant, ready to reclaim what the Ministry of Magic had rightfully acknowledged as his.
"Vernon Dursley," Sirius began, his voice dripping with sarcasm and barely contained rage, each word oozing like honey from a comb, "what a delightful surprise to see you again. I would say you're looking well, but that would be a blatant lie. I didn't realize it was possible for you to grow even more round. But I digress—Harry is coming with me."
Vernon's expression shifted from confusion to a fierce rage, a deep crimson creeping up from his neck to his forehead. "You can't just barge in here! You wretched criminal! The boy is staying right here!" he blustered, his fists clenching tightly as if he were a petulant child throwing a tantrum.
"Oh, Merlin, give me strength," Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes as exasperation washed over him like a tidal wave. "You're mistaking me for someone who actually cares what you think. Harry deserves far better than languishing with you lot, and it's high time someone said it out loud. I mean, I spent over a decade in a hellhole called Azkaban, tormented by my own thoughts and the shadows of despair, while Harry has been living under your roof like a veritable house-elf. And no offense to house-elves, of course; they have their own incredible ways of bringing joy and laughter, despite their servitude."
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SABAISM | H. POTTER
FanfictionSABAISM (noun) : The worship of stars. For centuries, people have looked up to the stars and became instantaneously bewitched due to the pinpricks of light. Such an enigma they are, burning bright in the darkest of atmospheres. Never snuffed by the...