Little Black Sheep: Book Two

Chapter One: Journey to Harry's

By Liz S.

I closed my eyes in anticipation, waiting for Rosemarie to return. She had to come back with something this time, she just had to! A soft coo rang through my ear and I looked over at Rosemarie, who was perched on my window. She just came back from sending a letter to Ron, Hermione, and Harry, all of which I hadn't heard from all summer. And just like expected, she held no notes or packages in her beak. I shut my eyes again in rejection.

You see, those people who I sent letters to, they're my friends from this school I go to, Hogwarts. It's a special school for… gifted kids. Kids that could do magic. I was one of those lucky people, as it was in my blood. I was on summer break right now, just four weeks away from it being over. Since my mom and I weren't on the greatest terms and things were awkward, I hadn't been out much. It also didn't help that my dad was widely known, but not for good things. My dad was Sirius Black, if you haven't guessed. I didn't know what he did though, only that it was terrible and that he got stuck in Azkaban, the worse Wizard prison in the world. My mom always told me he was innocent, but never told me what he was innocent from. Whenever I asked, she said I was 'too young." Psh, ya right. I was almost twelve now, seeing as my birthday is on August 28th.

I wished that those four weeks would already be over with, because I missed Hogwarts dearly. At Hogwarts there was always something new going on, whether it was a new spell, or a Quidditch match, or someone did something. I had the most bizarre classes, like Charms, Flying Lessons, or Potions (which I had with Snape, whom I despised deeply.) I also had Muggle-ish classes, like History of Magic, which was just like any other history class, despite it being taught by a ghost. I missed hanging out in my common room late at night, talking with Hagrid in his hut just outside the Forbidden Forest, or even having Oliver Wood worry over me. But what I missed most were the adventures I would have with Ron, Hermione, and Harry in the middle of the night. Problem was… when I left Hogwarts to go home with my mom, my friends had promised me that they would send me letters and ask me to come over. Well, that never happened and that's how I was stuck here now, lying on my bed, depressed and confused.

I put out two fingers and brushed Rosemarie's chocolate colored head, staring deep into her blue eyes. A pang of loneliness ate at my stomach, knowing that all my letters have gotten to Ron, Hermione, and Harry, but none have ever came back. Maybe…they didn't like me anymore. Another twinge of pain zapped through my system at the thought. It was probably true, I mean, they would have written back if they were my friends. Maybe I was the black sheep of the group and they didn't feel like keeping up the charade anymore. Ha…black sheep…

I humorlessly gave a laugh at the thought. I guess I was that compared to everyone, seeing as I was one of the only people in the whole history of the world to survive the Avada Kadavra Curse, which was supposed to have killed me. The only other person who had survived it was Harry Potter, one of my friends at Hogwarts. It seemed like he was the only one who could understand everything about me, maybe it was because of the scar we both shared. I absent mindedly traced the v shaped puckered skin on my wrist, faintly recalling the one that marred his forehead. His was quite interesting though, way more interesting than mine. It was like a…lightning bolt, but the scars we both had wasn't some kind of blessing. It was from a curse, the Avada Kadavra Curse, also known as, the Killing Curse. You wondering who gave it to us? Voldemort.

Yes, I'm not afraid to speak his name. I don't call him You-Know-Who or whatever. It was Harry who showed me not to fear his name. After all, it was only just a word. But Voldemort did something to both Harry and I that we could never forgive him.

It was Halloween night, I was one year old with Harry. My mom and dad had dropped me off with Harry's parents because they were going out for Halloween night. Harry's mom agreed, but no one knew what was about to happen. Sometime during that night someone came to the house. It was Voldemort. In the story it was Harry's dad who died first, trying to stall Voldemort so Harry's mom could get us out safely. But that didn't work out. He came into Harry's room and killed his mom and then tried to kill us, but instead something strange happened. Voldemort was killed and only left us with two scars. That was the night my dad had to leave. Well, that's how the story goes, but Harry and I knew better. That's because we met Voldemort last spring. And he tried to kill us. He almost succeeded, but Dumbledore came just in time and saved us and the Sorcerer's Stone, which could produce the Elixir of Life and change any metal into gold. I still had terrible nightmares about that night.

His glowing lava like eyes would bore into me, his snake like nostrils flaring and then he would grin, his teeth yellow and crooked. Then he would say, "You have a reason, Emily."

I always wondered what he meant by that. I have a reason? What did he mean? I've always been told that by my mom, but I didn't actually think it really meant anything. I thought she just used the phrase to get me to go to school.

I sighed, got up, and started pacing my room. Thoughts swirled throughout my head. My mom was downstairs, probably watching T.V. or something, but at that moment I didn't even think of joining her, not when I was questioning my sanity. I mean…this couldn't be happening, right? I had to be going crazy… my mom couldn't have kept this much from me, right? Oh, how I wished that was true, but I knew that talk I had with my mom earlier this summer wasn't just some weird dream.

Truth was, I loved my mom, but after that talk we had, things have been a little strange between us. I mean, I didn't expect everything to be all fine and dandy afterword, but I didn't expect this. After so many years of thinking she was being honest with me and that having her as my role model, this just changed everything. So, I can't really help, but feel… different around her. More…reserved I guess. She told me exactly what happened that night at Harry's house, which I was surprised that she knew every detail, although I could tell she was hiding some things back, probably about my father. She also explained my necklace to me, saying my father wanted me to be protected at all times, as if he knew something like this would happen. She also explained that we weren't the only ones living in this house… which really surprised me because I have been living here my whole life. Turns out we had a house elf, one that hated us very much.

His name was Kreacher and he was the ugliest thing I have ever seen, even worse than the troll. He had large, bat like ears that drooped and a nose that was bent and reminded me of a spade. He was quite short and was hunched over, wrinkly with multiple bags under his eyes. But what really got me was how much he resembled an old, bitter man who lived a lonely life. He was rude and said how much he hated my father and how he betrayed the rest of his family. When he said that, my mom shushed him and forbid him to say anything else about my father. This only made my suspicions even higher that there was a lot about my dad I didn't know. My mom had Kreacher only come out at night or when I was at school to clean up the house with her, despite his cruel comments and what not.

Another secret she revealed was that all the old things that use to be in the house were on the third floor and that was why I was forbidden to go up there as a little kid. Not that I never tried going in there, I did, but it was locked with some spell that I didn't know. When I finally got the courage to ask my mom about this, she just said it was locked to keep people from stealing anything in there. Which I found weird, since we did have an invisible house… well to Muggles anyway. There were paintings and family heirlooms and other things stored up there. She told me it was all boring, but I knew better. I knew that if it was just 'boring' she would let me go up there. She also explained how they redid the house, all the wallpaper changed and carpet re done. I wondered what the house looked like before my mom and dad re did it.

One thing my mom didn't tell me was what the room next to my dad's childhood bedroom held. It was bad enough I couldn't go into my dad's old room, but now I couldn't even know what was in the room next to it. Whenever I brought it up, she pulled a Hagrid, and just switched the subject and that was that. Although, that didn't stop me from fantasizing what the room was.

I sighed, dropping onto my flower printed sheets, twirling the ring that I still had on my left hand. I was right after all, it was the exact copy of my mother's, but I couldn't I ended up with it, and who did that voice from the common room belong to? I mean this all seemed impossible, the ring was right there on my mom's hand. Could it have been possible he was there when my dad bought it? I highly doubted it, thinking back to how old he sounded.

I just remained on my bed, breathing deeply, thinking. I wondered how Harry was doing with his aunt and uncle. The last time I saw them, they were boorish, foul, and rude people. His uncle was a wide man, with a large moustache that clashed with his red face. I could tell by how he talked to Harry that he detested him very much, but I couldn't think of a single reason why. His wife looked like the exact opposite of him, tall and skinny, she reminded me of a bunny by how afraid she was at the station. Her son wasn't any better, acting just like his mom, but he looked just like his dad, except with blonde hair and no moustache. I hoped that Harry was faring well with them, seeing as they didn't know he couldn't do magic.

I could just imagine the look on Harry's cousin's face. Harry would probably wave his hands about, mutter some nonsense and the other boy would scramble off, crying for his mommy. I held my stomach as I laughed, but then suddenly stopped when I thought about Harry's consequences. What would his punishment be for something like that? I thought about the expression I saw on his uncle's face, loathing and uncaring. I don't know how they could hate Harry, I mean, he was such a great friend. I remembered how thin Harry was when I first met him and how baggy and worn out his clothes were. I never really thought about it, I always cherished the memory as the day I met famous Harry Potter. Now that I looked more into it, I saw how skinny he was and how his clothes were probably hand-me-downs. Harry also didn't know a lick of magic, sure enough his uncle and aunt had tried to keep it that way. I recalled the last day at Hogwarts, how sad he was to leave.

I rolled over, looking over at the window that looked down at the street, suddenly very anxious. I had to know if Harry was ok. Of course Hermione and Ron were, they had parents who loved them. Harry had nothing but his awful relatives. At that moment, I remembered something. Today was Harry's birthday. No doubt that his Uncle and Aunt would make it terrible, but it couldn't be that bad right? I mean, it was his birthday. It only came once a year. But deep down, worry started bouncing around, frantic. I pictured the package that I sent him. They were Quidditch gloves. I bought them for his birthday present a few days ago so they would reach him. I only wished that he would like them, even if he didn't send a letter back. Was he allowed to send letters? Of course, Harry would never let them do anything to Hedwig; he'd threaten them with magic or something if they tried.

It just didn't make sense! Why haven't they answered me back? I rolled over again, the springs squeaking in my bed. I had to know why. And if they weren't going to answer me, them I was going to have to go to them.

I hopped off of my bed and headed towards the stairs. The banister was rough against my palm, seeing as it was very old. When I reached the bottom, the red carpet separating under my shoes, I took a deep breath and glanced up at my mom, who was now looking at me.

"Uhh… Mom, I was just, um, wondering, if you knew…um… where the closest floo fireplace is to Little Whinging in Surrey." I asked, a little hesitant, but I knew if I wanted to get there, I had to ask her.

"Little Whinging? There's one right in that town. It's not very far. But why would you like to know, Emily?" She asked, in her motherly concerned voice.

I debated whether telling her the truth or not and decided that I should, "I was going to visit Harry."

"Really? Well, do his Aunt and Uncle know you're going?" She questioned.

"Of course, Mom! They're having a party, it's his birthday!" I fibbed, hoping she didn't know his aunt and uncle.

"Oh, then you should get going." Her voice was slightly cheery, but I could tell her smile was forced.

"Oh, thanks Mom." I said, trying to sound happy, but I was a little hurt.

Did that talk earlier this summer really affect our relationship that much?

She ushered me into the fireplace and gave me a handful of floo powder, her hand a little hesitant to get close to mine.

"Remember, speak nice and clearly. Have fun, honey!" She waved, but I could tell worry was in her eyes. I gave a little wave back.

When she left down the stairs to the kitchen, I took a second to recollect myself. I looked straight ahead, and then spoke, "Little Whinging."

Suddenly, I was gone, covered in green flames and then was spat back out, landing in an unfamiliar fireplace. I looked around curiously; it seemed to be a house. I wrinkled my nose at the pungent smell, cabbages.

"Why, hello." I heard a woman's voice and I turned around to see an old lady.

"Oh, um, I'm sorry, I didn't know-" I started to ramble, but she just smiled.

"Don't worry about it dear, you can come out of the fireplace." She told me and I walked out, looking around me.

Meows met my ears from every angle and I could see cats almost everywhere. They were on shelves or under seats or something. The couches that filled her room looked old and had lace on them, what I expected a grandma would have in their house. She had vases of flowers throughout the house.

Suddenly she grabbed my hand and led me over to another room, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

I nodded silently, but then noticed she wasn't looking at me, "Um, yes, thank you."

I walked into her kitchen, seeing a small round table by the front window and noticed that her kitchen had the same style as her living room. As we sat down at the table she brought over a tea kettle and started pouring the hot, brown drink into the tea cups, which were already set onto the table. I took one look at mine and saw roses covered the surface and it was golden around the rim.

Finally, she sat across from me.

"Well, what brings you here, Miss Emily Black?" She asked, taking a sip of her piping hot tea and I gaped at her.

Did everyone know my name?

"Shh…don't say my last name! How do you know me?" I whispered looking around as if someone would pop up.

"Don't worry, my husband isn't home right now. Dumbledore has told me about you, Emily. And you didn't answer my question." Her voice was light and unconcerned.

I looked at her incredulously, "You know Dumbledore?"

"We're old friends. We speak from time to time." She answered.

"Who are you?" I asked, finally taking a sip of my own tea.

"I'm Mrs. Figgs." She replied, "You want any sugar?" She asked as she saw my face pucker as the bitter tea reached my tongue.

"Yes, thank you." I said and put two cubes into my cup, stirring it, "Well, I'm here to…uh.. see a friend of mine. Do you know where 4 Private Drive is?" I asked, hoping she would know.

"Oh, it's right around the corner. Does your friend happen to be Harry Potter?"She pointed behind her and I almost choked on my tea.

"You know him too?" How did she know? She had to be a witch to know all of this.

"Yes, I've known him since he was a little baby. Well, I shouldn't be keeping you any longer. But I must warn you, Harry's relatives aren't very welcoming people. You should be cautious." She warned, getting out of her chair, a tabby cat weaving through her legs.

"Oh, Mr. Custer. Mommy has to take this young lady to the door. You're going to trip me if you keep this up." She slowly bent down and picked up the small kitten, scooting it into another room, "Sorry, Emily. My cats usually have breakfast around this time. Oh, I forgot to tell you. Private Drive is east of here and then you'll have to go south. I'm sure a girl like you won't get lost." She then winked and I looked at her a little weird.

"Thank you, Mrs. Figgs." I said as polite as I could as she led me to the door with no more cat issues.

"Good bye, Emily. Remember what I said." She gave me a small, but knowing smile and then she shut the door lightly, leaving me on her sidewalk, looking east, down her road.

I started walking down her flagstone walkway and on the sidewalk, towards his street. It turned out to be a fairly short walk, but I guess it seemed a little long, maybe because every house looked the same.

I looked at the numbers on the mail boxes as I reached Private drive. One…two….three…ah, four.

I noticed that his house looked just like Mrs. Figgs, and well, everyone else's. It was a brown brick with a dark brown roof, had two stories, and had a few windows. It looked exactly like a suburbia house, complete with a bird bath in front and a few shrubs. It looked completely different from London, all clean and proper. My house was old and dirty and the streets were always littered with old newspapers or fast food wrappers. How could Harry have such a bad life in a perfect place like this?

I decided to sneak around back, happy that it was around dinner time, everyone would be in there house, busy eating. I looked, around, to make sure the coast was clear. I only saw a small blue car go by, and heard a barking dog somewhere on the street. I was good. I hurriedly ran into the back yard, trying to be stealthy, but completely failed when I spotted a small flower garden and tripped on the edging, falling into an evergreen bush.

"Ow." I muttered, pushing myself out, and looking around to see if I alerted anyone. All I could hear was banging from what I presumed was the garage and I spotted a pile of wilting weeds, gloves, and a trowel to the side of where I was standing. Someone was weeding. That means I had to act now and fast!

I sighed heavily, seeing that the whole side of the house was windows, a flat wall, and a back door area. I looked at every window carefully when I spotted something. It was a bright white and it turned over to look at me. I could hear a frantic squawk. Hedwig! She was in a cage by the window and I knew that had to be Harry's room. How was I ever going to get up there without magic? I continued to scan the building hoping something would magically pop up when suddenly, I spotted a bunch of vines that were by Harry's window and I looked at them, terrified. I would have to climb them in order to get into his room. I gulped, and pushed those thoughts aside as I started gripping the vines. They were sturdy, but I could feel them bend a little at my weight. I chanted one line in my head "Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down…"

But when I heard one of the vines crack, my head glanced over my shoulder and I almost screamed. I was so high up and if I fell, I would surely die! Suddenly, the racket in the garage stopped and I froze, thinking thing over. If someone saw me, I would be revealed and I couldn't do that, not when I was so up high.

I started to scramble faster in fear. I hoped to god that no one was watching me right now. As I got closer and closer to the window, the more the butterflies in my stomach dissipated. It was going to be alright, I was going to be fine. When I reached his window, I pulled up the white frame and slowly slid myself in, making sure I didn't bump my head on the sides.

When I brought my other leg in I could hear Hedwig flapping her wings wildly, screeching hysterically. I slammed the window shut and rushed over to the cage.

"Shhh.. Hediwg, it's just me! Shhh…calm down." I tried to sooth her and she slowly quieted down, "Good girl…"

I put my fingers through the bars of her cage and gingerly brushed the top of her head, her feather smooth and snow white. She looked up at me with her big brown eyes, sadness swimming in them. Well, as sad as an owl could get.

"What's wrong, girl?" I asked and she started to peck at the padlock that kept her in the cage.

I looked at it regretfully. I couldn't use magic to open it, or else I would get caught and I had no clue where the key was, "I'm sorry, Hedwig, but there's no way to let you out."

She cooed again and then turned away from me, looking out the window, probably longing to be in the air, free. Finally, I turned around to look at the room and gasped.

It was quite small, cluttered with many things. What mainly filled up the room was a bed with a tattered blanket on it. It was red, but looked thin and I felt a pang of sympathy. His pillow looked old, flat as a plank of wood and stained with something orange. Next to it was a large wooden bookcase, filled with books that looked like that haven't been touched in decades. I brushed my fingers over one of the shelves and a thick layer of dusted coated them. Yuck. In the corner were an old, broken cin-camera, a busted TV, a bent rifle, and a small tank looking thing. No way were these Harry's. I wrinkled nose when I realized they must have been his cousin's. A wardrobe was on the same wall as his door. This was the only thing that seemed to be used, besides his bed and I looked inside to see all of his clothes were hung up, his trunk in the bottom, a few other things. And last, but not least, was a dark wooden desk with a few books on it, a candle, and a chair that looked like it was about to fall apart.

My mom always told me you could tell who a person was by their room. This was not Harry's room. I expected it to be covered in Quidditch posters and full of books or something. Anything but this. I fell onto his rock hard bed, the springs squeaking quite loudly. Harry couldn't live here. He just couldn't. I suddenly remembered the first day I met him, thinking he would be rich and have body guards and what not. I shook my head at how naïve I was. Harry was as far away from my stereotypical image of the famous Harry Potter as he could get. The Harry I knew and the Harry everyone expected to see from the stories they heard were two completely people. I finally stood up and went over to the window and looked down.

I almost gasped at what I saw below. I found out who was doing the gardening. It was Harry. From my vantage point, all I could see was part of his face, the top of his black-haired covered head, and the rest of his body, which was on all fours. I could see his shirt was soaked and realized he must have been out there a long time. I glanced over to the pile of weeds to confirm my theory. I was just about to open the window and call down to Harry when something happened. There was a sudden pop and I span around to see something on Harry's bed.

I screamed at the sight to only see the thing snap it's fingers and my lips glue together. Oh my god! What did he do to me!

"Miss Emily, oh I am so dearly sorry! But I can't let Harry know you're here!" the creature, that I just recognized as a house elf, said to me and them started punching his head.

"Hmmmmmhmppp." I tried to speak, but my lips wouldn't come apart.

"Oh, Miss Emily, I am so sorry! But you and Harry Potter must not go to Hogwarts!"He snapped his fingers and my body suddenly went rigid and I started floating towards the wardrobe door. The two doors suddenly flew open and I slid in and the doors slammed shut.

I could heard Dobby mumble to himself and banging, "Bad Dobby! How could Dobby do this to Miss Emily?" He wailed.

I was stuck, just like Neville was when Hermione put that Body Binding curse on him. The only good part about this was that my face was right in front of the crack between the two doors and I could see most of the room, except the door.

Which, at that instant, decided to open.

~(Author's Note)~

I know Harry's bedroom window is actually in the front of the house, but I didn't want Emily to be too conspicuous, so I made that minor change. Please don't kill me! XD Btw, I owe Trh1 the biggest thank you ever and I also credit her with making this story with me :P She is… my editor, I think you call 'em. She helps me with ideas and how to word things… and helps point out stupid typos! So, give her all a thank you and message her and stuff! Thank you for reading!

-Liz