The Boy Who Never Lived

The letters part two

The first letter that came was promptly shred to bits and thrown in the trash. The next few letters were the same. Over the next week the amount of letters arriving at number 4 Private drive everyday were multiplying. On Monday for example there were only three letters that were burned in the fireplace. On Thursday Vernon Dursley had grown so fed up with the increasing amounts of letters that after shoving ten of the strange parchments down the kitchen sink garbage disposal he grew very red in the face indeed. Needless to say, although I will anyway, that Harry recieved a rather bad beating that night. As Harry dreamt that night, holding tight to his newly broken arm, he had a strange sense of Deja Vu. A word which here means his dream was more of a memory, although Harry didn't know it yet.
A cat stared down at him in judgement.
"Seems small." It sniffed in dissaproval.
"He's not small!" A voice, smooth as chocolate said softly.
"Yeah!" Barked another voice. "You're just getting fat- OW!"
"Thank you, Lilly." The cat said, although one could tell from the cat's voice that it was not pleased with the punishment placed upon the dog-like man nearby.
The image grew blurry and faded like dust. When the pieces reformed there was an oddly familiar man with round glasses sitting in front of Harry and shoving spoonfuls of green goup into Harry's mouth. Harry gagged on the slop and spat it back out at the man.
"Disgusting!" The man said, as a redheaded woman threw a towel at him.
She laughed and skipped over to
Where Harry was sat.
"Come now Harry darling" she said reaching to pick up Harry "Daddy needs to get cleaned up why don't we go get you dressed?"
Like the previous dream it too faded into blackness. There was some shouting in the distance and a bright green flash. He could hear a fading scream and then two intense, orange eyes staring at him.
"Harry Potter," a whispy voice said. "The prophecied one."
Harry had never heard this word before, as no one at school ever spoke of such things and especially not at the Dursley's, and so Harry laughed at the funny word his imagination came up with. The orange eyes before him however did not show amusement. A vague curiosity shown through them that reminded Harry of the time his cousin Dudley had taken apart his racing bike to see how it worked; Yet what also lay behind their vibrant colour was disgust and hatred not unlike what shone in Vernon's eyes when Dudley blamed the bike being irreparable on Harry later that night. Harry didn't understand at all what he had done to anger the man with the strange eyes and the pale skin but he looked down in shame anyways. The man looked at him confused.
"Why do you not cry?" He spoke, quietly and gently touching Harry's cheek. "Your parents are dead. There lies your mothers corpse. You too are about to die. Why do you not cry?"
Harry didn't know the reason either but wrapped his hand around this strange man's. The man looked at where Harry held his finger with awe and confusion. There was a few slamming noises from outside and the man with the orange eyes pulled away from Harry roughly. Harry reached out towards the man and cried to him.
"No! Wait!" He cried, his voice never reaching this gentle man who spoke to him so caringly. "Come back! Please!"
"Avada Kedevra!" The man said softly and Harry felt a warmth surround him. A green light shone softly on his skin and he looked up to see the man stare at him in confusion and wonder.
"What the-" the man whispered
"Lilly?!" A voice came from downstairs.
Harry felt his body start to vibrate and tried to keep his eyes closed but when he opened them even the man couldn't deny seing the golden flames that shone from within.
"What dark magic is this?" He said staring horrified as Harry floated into the air, undetectable wind making his hair fly around him. Harry looked at Voldemort and his eyes turned pitch black. Voldemort let out a gasp in pain and looked down at his hand. His veigns, starting from his fingertips and very likey the rest of his body, had slowly turned bright yellow; Almost as if somebody had injected him full of liquid gold. As beautiful as the sight was, it burnt with the intenstity of a thousand suns and after the gold light faded from the area it turnt black and fell to dust. The man stared in horror at his hands as the gold made its way into his heart and with it his skin turned into an ashy grey. He stumbled back as Harry floated back into his crib. Harry watched as the mans cheeks became hallow and his skin grey in horror. The man looked at him, his orange eyes turning brown and full of sorrow before also turning a yellowish grey and rolling up into his head.
"Harry" he said weakly before falling the the ground in a cloud of black dust.

Harry woke up to a piercing sound of a drill in the hall. He slowly opened up his door to see his uncle drilling pieces of wood over the mail slot. Harry shut his door again and tried to fall back asleep but the image of curious orange eyes never left him.
A few days had passed and yet the letters kept coming and now, on Sunday it had almost been a full week since they first arrived. The Dursleys had settled into the living room for their traditional sunday tea. Harry of course would have no sweet tea, nor the cookies and brownies he had been serving them for several minutes. In secret, However Harry had taken a brownie and had it hidden in the pocket of his cargo shorts, and wrapped in several napkins. Dudley being the spoiled child he was had already scarfed down several large cookies and half the tray of brownies. Petunia was well... Being Petunia and vigorously wiping at a tea stain that was never going to wash off. Of course she would blame Harry for it not coming off although it was in fact Dudley who had spilt the tea in the first place. Vernon was sitting in an overstuffed arm chair and humming cheerfully.
"Fine day Sunday." He said. "In my oppinion the best day of the week. Why is that Dudley?"
Dudley shrugged.
"Why is that Harry?" Vernon said trying not to show his annoyance.
"B-b-because there's n-no post on S-Sundays?" Harry said, stepping out of Vernon's reach.
"Right you are Harry!" Vernon said happily.
Harry sagged with relief and heard a curious fluttering sound from outside. Owls were flying everywhere! Of course Harry didn't say anything just continued to serve the gingersnaps to his family members as Vernon ranted on about how there was absolutely no way thered be a letter that morning.
"No blasted letters today! No sir! Not one miserable bloody letter! Not one!" He said with glee.
However in a seconds time the words that were so joyously said by one Vernon Dursley would go from being a blessing to the Dursley family to one of cosmic irony and terror. So as Vernon Dursley said:
"Not one single letter!" It was to their shock that a letter would fly across the room to hit Vernon square in the face. The room began to shake and the walls to squeak and them to shriek for hundreds of these letters came flying down their chimney and through the air of the living room on this Sunday where no post was expected. Harry in part curiousity and part excitment began to jump around trying to catch a letter as they tumbled to the ground in a rain of green ink and parchment. Of course once one was firmly in his grip Harry suddenly realised that he hadnt planned on how to read it and so he ran. Harry ran down the front fourier and tried to throw open the front door when two beefy hands were aroubd his stomach and lifting him off the floor.
"That's it!" Vernon yelled into Harry's ear "We are going away! Far away! Where they can't find us!"
And so without thinking of the hundreds of letters on the floors, nor the food on the tables that would surely rot Vernon Dursley shoved his family into his car and drove off away from Privette drive. Away from the letters. Away from joyful sunday tea. And as Harry stared at the window, sorrowful he heard his cousin whimper a small question to his mother who supplied no answer.
"What now? Where are we going? When are we going home?"
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Voldemort's death is based off of Duncan's death in The Reaping. I tried to find a video but nothing came up on youtube. Sorry.