"Harry?" He could hear Ron's voice echoing but he knew Ron wouldn't find him. And e didn't want to be found. This couldn't be it. This wasn't his life. He was more than this.
"Harry!?" Ron called again, passing right next to Harry but not seeing him, as Harry had predicted. Harry covered his mouth and held his breath, stating as silent as possible. He didn't know why he didn't want to be found, he just knew he didn't.
As he heard Ron's footsteps get quieter, he pulled himself out of the ruins. He had run off into the third part of town.
The town was split into three parts from what Harry understood.
-The rich part; where Harry had started his day, everything seemed cheerful and posh, and everyone seemed happy.
-The poor part; where Harry had bumped into Ron, people with no money, people hiding from the police, bars, pubs, drunk people asleep on the streets.
-The ruins; where Harry was now, what used to be a small little village just outside of Surrey, one of the houses had caught fire and everything had burned. When the fire brigade got there it was too late, no survivors. The one part to have resisted the fire was some kind of small cupboard, hidden in the ruins of one of the houses, which Harry could barely fit into. He knew Ron wouldn't find him there, no one even knew that cupboard existed.
Harry climbed out of the cupboard and walked through the ruins, stepping over a sign that said 'No. 4' and heading back to the rich part of town to figure something out.
As he was stepping, he heard the sound of glass breaking, and felt something crack under his foot. Lifting his foot, he found a charred photo of a little boy and what seemed to be his two parents. They seemed to all be laughing, except for someone in the corner. A small, screaming four year old, hiding from the photographer but still in sight. Suddenly, the whole photo seemed different. Their mouths were open but now Harry could tell that the mother seemed angry, she was glaring at somebody. The little boy seemed to be crying, or fake crying and the father was trying to keep the photo together, forcing a smile and looking at the camera man. Harry looked again at the little boy, more closely, but dropped the photo in shock. Slowly, he backed away, then broke into a run, trying to get as far away from the ruins as possible.
"Harry! There you are!" Said Ron, as Harry rushed into the poor part of the town.
"Ron!" Said Harry, and he grabbed Ron'a arm roughly, "You said I had two children! What were their names?" He asked.
"Um...James Sirius and Albus Severus," said Ron cautiously.
"And then what did you say?"
"That you had no imagination..." Said Ron, "Harry are you alright?"
"Why would you say that?" Said Harry, "That I had no imagination. Who's James? Sirius? Albus? Severus?"
Ron shrugged, "I-I don't know. I...I don't know why..."
"How many brothers did you say you had?" Continued Harry.
"One working in a bank. One in a zoo. One in a joke shop-"
"No. You said two worked in a joke shop."
"Don't be stupid. None of my brother would work with George in a joke shop."
Harry took a deep breath, his mind was working furiously, but it was like trying to put a puzzle together with half the pieces missing.
Well that was a meh update I'm sorry guys.
