The Black Parade [hp.]

one.

one. the letter.

  Harry Potter spent another summer at the Dursleys. Reading books about quidditch in his room, talking to Hedwig, writing letters to Hermione and Ron. Same old, same old.

This day was passing by as slow as all the other days, until Harry overheard a conversation between Petunia and Vernon on his way to the toilet.

"I was cleaning up some things, and then I found this," Harry could see Petunia giving Vernon something. Something thin, and old.

Vernon turned the object around in his hands a few times, before tightly wrapping his fat hands around it. His face was heating up as he realized what he was holding.

"Harry must never see this," Vernon said and sat down on the couch. His massive behind created a big dent in the piece of furniture. By this time, you could see which part of the couch was Vernon's and which part was Petunia's.

  "He won't," Petunia answered, sitting down next to her husband. "If he ever gets this in his hands, he will do something irresponsible, we can't deal with that."

  Harry was getting mad now. They had something that obviously belonged to him, and he wanted to see what it was. But he couldn't just walk into the room and ask for it. That's not the way things work in the Dursley house.

  "I will throw it away, in some garbage bin far away from our street, so he'll never read what his beloved dad wrote," Vernon stood up, the dent in the couch barely returning to his original state.

Harry's breath stuck in his throat as he heard the word dad. They had a letter from his dad, to him. What would his dad had written him? Harry heard Vernon's footsteps coming closer, so he stopped thinking and quickly hid in the toilet.

"We'll finally have gotten rid of everything his parents left him when I get back." Harry heard Vernon enter the hall, but he could not see what was happening.

As soon as he heard the door slam, and Petunia mutter some words, he exited the toilet and ran up the stairs.

  Once in his room, he let his rage take over. They took another object of him. An object his father left him for gods sake. He had witnessed this many times before, but he was old enough to take good decisions now, why did they still need to do this? Take away objects because they think he will start a rebellion because of them? Insane.

  Before he could think of anything, he threw on a jacket and put on his shoes. He grabbed his wand and hid it in the sleeve of his jacket, prepared to be out for some time.

  Harry opened his bedroom door and stepped outside, immediately greeted by Dudley.

"Where are you going?" He spat. Harry cringed as he smelled his disgusting breath, a hint of bacon crisps in it. Dudley put his arms next to Harry's head, trying to look intimidating.

"Out." He replied, before breaking through the imaginary cage Dudley had made. He stomped down the stairs, while Dudley followed him.

"Mom! Harry's going out!" He screamed, running past Harry on the stairs, almost pushing him to the ground.

Harry didn't wait for Petunia to enter the hall, he didn't want to have an argument with her. So he got out of the house, not bothering to close the door behind him.

  And then he ran.

  He ran and ran and ran. Ran until  he couldn't feel his legs anymore. But when he saw a familiar person on the other side of the road, he slowed down and hid behind a bush.

  He put his hands on his thighs as he exhaled deeply, watching his uncle open a garbage bin and throw the letter he was talking about earlier, away. Harry clenched his jaw and bawled his fist. He was lucky to be here, otherwise he would've never gotten to read the letter, but he was still furious.

  Vernon shook his head as he closed the bin, laughing. Harry couldn't wait to return to Hogwarts, so he wouldn't have to see his uncle for a good ten months.

  His eyes followed the man as he started to walk, or actually waddle, away. When Vernon turned the corner, Harry finally dared to get up from his hiding place. He checked one more time before he ran to the bin.

  He opened it, lucky to have the letter laying on top of all the garbage. It looked old and worn. Harry carefully got it out, not knowing what to do with it. Of course he wanted to read it, but he was just so overwhelmed by the fact that he'd read what his father wrote in a few seconds.

  Slowly, he turned it around, and noticed the envelope had been opened before. "Vernon," He mumbled under his breath, gritting his teeth.

  His fingers roamed over the opening of the envelope. He gracefully opened it, trying not to tear the paper.

  Inside the envelope, he found a yellowish paper, with black ink on top of it. The envelope dropped to the ground as he opened the folded letter.

  Harry took a deep breath and started reading.

  'Son, when you grow up, would you be the saviour of the broken, the beaten and the damned? Will you defeat them? Your demons, and all the non-believers. The plans that they have made? Because one day, I'll leave you. A phantom to lead you in the summer. To join The Black Parade.'

  Petunia was right, was all Harry could think about when he finished reading. He did want to do something irresponsible because of this letter. His dad encouraged him to do so in the letter; join the Black Parade. He repeated those words over and over in his head, before folding the letter. He almost put it away, but then he noticed a small scribble in the corner of the letter.

  Curiously, he opened it again. He had to squint his eyes to see what was written. "To my little foreigner," Harry mumbled.

His mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation. Why would his father call him his little foreigner? It's not like he spoke a different language, or he came from a different family. His name also didn't mean foreigner in another language, as far as he knew.

  With thousand of thoughts exploding in his head, only one stood out; it's time to go back to Hogwarts.

note.
oH shit. this chapter probably sucked buT ohhhh well :-)))