When Fiction Comes Alive

7. Waiting for My Hero

So two weeks passed uneventfully. Most of the inhabitants of 12 Grimauld Place had almost warmed up to me. When I say most, that includes the twins, Ron, Ginny, Molly and even Sirius. But for some reason, Hermione and Remus were slightly wary of me. They would talk to me civilly but kept a close eye on me(so I could feel) and my every move. I slightly felt bad about it I didn't bend over backwards to make them believe me. This was made up by the twins who would show me their inventions and would ask for my opinions. I even managed to give some ideas. So most of my time was spent with them and they seemed to like me. 

If I were not with the twins, I would be helping Molly in kitchen, or talking to Ron and Ginny, about my school or playing wizarding games like Wizard chess and Exploding snap(which were sometimes joined by Sirius). I even volunteered to do their homework for lack of something to do, only some though because Mrs Weasley didn't approve. It was more out of curiosity on how they would write with quills. Since they had no muggle fiction and novels, I sometimes read their textbooks and their newspapers were a daily read for me.

My phone was another story altogether. Sometimes it would show full network and sometimes no network. I tried calling but it didn't work. So calling someone was totally out of option. And I wouldn't know the status of incoming calls unless someone called me but as you can guess nobody called. Messaging didn't work either. But the internet would work most of the time. But I only used my phone in the privacy of my room. Thankfully, I could still watch movies online whichever were free, listen music or use wattpad. I was beginning to doubt the 'magic is not compatible with electronic devices' theory. Maybe someone who didn't understand electronics came up with this theory.

I was starting to enjoy but I knew I can't stay there forever. I was wondering if my brother realised my absence or not. That not only I was missing from my room or my country but from the timeline as well. Dumbledore came once or twice privately and said he's working on something to ensure my return. I had no choice but to wait after all.

Meanwhile Hedwig would come occasionally with letters from Harry and Sirius, Ron and Hermione would respond with short answers. I told them it wouldn't be enough because Harry would be anxious and curious for answers but they say that they're not supposed to tell him much because Dumbledore said. I rolled my eyes on that. Typical everyone just hiding things from him leading him to make rash decisions.  

All this while I was keeping an eye on the date because the dementor attack on Harry in Little Whinging was about to happen. Which also means he'd be coming here finally. And most importantly these wizards would finally wake up from their slumber. I never understood why they never brought him before when he was grieving all alone. He just saw death for heavens sake. And instead of having the support of his godfather and loved ones, he's rotting with those relatives of his who don't care whether he's alive or not but consider him a burden. I knew Sirius wanted him and was missing him a lot but he didn't say much about it.

Finally 2 August arrived. The fateful day of the attack. I was quite fidgety the whole day in anticipation for which I got quite many weird looks the whole day but I kept face normal. I knew it was after dark so I kept looking out of the window again and again. The day seemed to pass very slowly. I didn't remember the exact time of the event but from what I thought I could recall from my faint memory, the Ministry letter said that the Patronus Charm was used at 9:23 pm. As soon as it was 9, I was a nervous wreck. I didn't know why I was even getting this affected. After all it wasn't me who was going to be attacked. To calm myself I reminded me that he must be sitting in the park now waiting for that pig Dudley. I went to my room to escape all the looks. I thought it best to sit quietly and wait. And that I did, waiting for any indication that something happened.

And then it did. There was a loud crash and the portrait of Walburga Black started screaming. I ran down the stairs and so did almost everyone who was present in the house. A smell of tobacco and whiskey filled the air so I scrunched my nose in disgust. I recognised that man as Mundungus Fletcher. He was muttering under his breath and was looking pretty scared too.