DOORWAYS || MARAUDERS ERA

ϟ53: NIGHT DETOURSϟ

Yes I'm alive. DU, btw.

Tap. Tap.

Harry shifted in his bed, finding his head ache terribly. He was half asleep, and his dreams were slowly getting more vivid and detailed. Professor Quirrell and his outstretched hands.... Voldemort screaming...

Tap. Tap.

He clamped his eyes shut tightly, trying his best to fall asleep. The twelve year old was already feeling extremely miserable since he was currently living with the Dursleys for the summer. And to cap it up, Ron and Hermione hadn't sent him a single letter. The least he wanted was a good night's sleep; was that too much to ask?

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

It was too much, apparently.

"Harry, you git, open the damn window!"

Harry froze, opening his eyes in horror. He bolted into an upright position and scanned his surroundings. His vision was blurry—1)because he had just gotten up and 2)he wasn't wearing his spectacles.

Grabbing his glasses from the tiny stand next to his bed, he pushed them to the bridge of his nose and sprung from his bed, looking around wildly.

And there she was—her head was barely reaching the window sill and her hands were gripping the sill in an attempt to stay still.

"Rhea?" Harry breathed, looking at the window in a mask of horror and disbelief. "What are you doing?!"

"Hi Harry, hello Harry, how are you Harry?" she all but snapped, her voice shaking with the effort she was taking to balance her body. "Do you mind helping me?" she demanded, glaring at Harry.

"Oh, right, sorry..."

He opened the window hastily and helped her up. She took his outstretched hand and climbed into his room, looking absolutely terrified. It was clear her vertigo had shaken her up pretty badly.

"What are you doing here?" Harry hissed, grabbing Rhea's arm and checking for any injuries. "You could have hurt yourself!"

"I'm fine," she said loftily, yanking her arm from Harry's grip and sitting down on his floor. There was a bag slung on her shoulder, and she was wearing old track pants and a faded blue Tshirt.

"How did you get in?" He demanded, crossing his arms sternly. "You could have fallen!"

Rhea rolled her eyes. "It took me a while, sure. But did you know there's a ladder in your lawn?" she shot at him casually, opening her bag in careful precision. "I saw you uncle using it the day before, so I decided to use it today..."

"It's the middle of the night!" Harry exclaimed, partly amused and partly shocked.

"Yeah, well couldn't leave you alone on your birthday, could I?" Rhea asked, smiling at him gently. She took a small lump of a package from her bag and unwrapped it as silently as she could. Harry's question dies in his throat when he saw a cupcake inside the package.

It was incredibly messy—the cream was haphazardly spread, and there was a candle standing on it diagonally. There were a few sprinkles of choco chips too.

"I—" he faltered, looking at Rhea as he felt his throat burn slightly. "Thank you...."

"Welcome!" Rhea beamed at him, pulling him down to the floor and pushing the cupcake closer to him. Take a matchbox and lighting the match, she said, "Mum and Dad don't know I'm here—which is good, since they'd kill me for pulling this stunt..."