The Pure Blood's Task

Chapter 1

Waiting at my window for a sign that Professor Dumbledore might arrive is a long and tedious task.  Although his letter stated that he would only be arriving at eleven, I had positioned myself on watch from about 7pm; half not believing that he would actually show up, and half hoping that he would appear early, so that if the Dursleys were disturbed they might be less inclined to be rude about the lateness of his call.  There's a slim chance of that happening though - I haven't warned them that he's coming.

Glancing at my alarm clock, I sigh as I realise that a meagre two hours have passed since I began keeping watch.  My eyes stray around my room, briefly resting against Hedwig's own gaze, before straying to the newspapers half-hidden beneath her cage.  I can barely make out a few words in the dim glow from the streetlamp outside, but what I can read takes me back to the events at the end of the school year, to the time when Sirius...

I will those thoughts away.  Concentrating instead on the blazing defiance shown by my friends at the Ministry, I see the looks of bravery passed from one to the others.  I see the pain of determination set on Neville's face as he struggled to his feet.  I feel the heat of his arm around me as I helped him to stand.  I feel the burn in my chest as I imagine his warmth now... No! 

Those thoughts aren't allowed either.

For what seems like the millionth time in a few short weeks, I'm frustrated and confused.  If Sirius were here, I could have discussed those thoughts with him.  I could have taken advantage of his parent-like role in my life to sit down, to confide, what may now have to be a secret.  But Sirius isn't here, so I can't seek his advice, and so I most definitely can't be...

I shake my head.  I know I'm not.  Last year I was with Cho, and I wouldn't have felt that way about her if I'd have been...

I shake my head again, that train of thought is so well rehearsed in my mind from reciting it daily that I no longer see the point in finishing it.   Ah well.  I check the clock.  Only one and a half more hours until my real summer holiday begins, and I'll be too busy to even think about these strange - and obviously false - feelings invading my mind.

But what if they're still there when September comes? I question. Would that mean they're real?

      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

Jerking abruptly awake, I notice a sudden darkness outside.  The streetlamps have turned out.  Did I fall asleep?  I squint through the glass, peering down at the pavement where a tall, thin figure is striding up the garden path.  My eyes widen as I recognize his frame, and I hurriedly begin shoving items into my unpacked trunk.  Hedwig tutters critisizingly at me, but I ignore her judgement, searching instead for the brass telescope I'm certain was just underneath my bed.

"Who in the blazes is calling at this time of night?" The doorbell rings and Uncle Vernon yells with disgruntled surprise.

His voice is peremptory, discourteous, and I fling myself out of my door and down the stairs, still clutching my telescope, hoping to give Professor Dumbledore a more gracious welcome than what he is about to receive.  I'm too late, reaching the hall in time to see Uncle Vernon's frozen expression as Dumbledore steps into the threshold and closes the door.

"Boy," my Uncle growls at me, spying my appearance.  His eyes bear a menacing glare, and he's evidently about to accuse me of his ignorance when Professor Dumbledore turns back around.

"Excellent, excellent!" Dumbledore send me a wink, interrupting Uncle Vernon by gesturing to the living room. "Shall we?"  He proceeds into the room where Aunt Petunia and Dudley are seated, settling himself in the armchair by the fireplace and offering round glasses of oak-matured mead.  I suppress a laugh as the Dursleys perch awkwardly on the sofa, looking as out of place in their own living room as they would have had they wandered into Hogsmeade. 

Appearing not to notice, Professor Dumbledore begins the conversation by describing to me the contents of Sirius' will.  He summons Kreacher, Sirius' old elf to the room, and I watch the bulge in my Aunt's eye as she sees his filthy body.  I'm only half listening to what Dumbledore has to say, the memories of my Godfather still too painful to think of casually.  

As Dumbledore keeps talking, I feel myself drifting further away from the topic at hand, decidedly not yearning for Sirius' company.

"Well, Harry?" Professor Dumbledore clicks his fingers in front of my face. "Are you ready to head off?"

I stutter slightly as I think of my half-packed trunk upstairs.  "I'll just... I'll just go finish up," I mutter.

He chuckles in response. "Doubting I would come?" His eyes are omniscient.  "No matter.  I'm sure you had other things on your mind too."

His last comment hitches my breath as I trudge back upstairs.  He can't possibly know that I might be... Even though I'm certainly not. Can he?

      *      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

Soooo... first chapter... any thoughts?

Please let me know, I'd love some advice or anything.  And how was the chapter length? It was just over 850 words, is this okay or should I aim for more, or less?

Comments, criticisms, anything would be greatly appreciated!

Thank you to anyone who reads this! 

- A x