The Raven
Harry awakened with a startled gasp.
It was dark.
His body didn’t feel quite right.
He didn’t feel quite right at all.
Harry groaned, his head rattled still from lingering pain and he tried to push himself up but flailed on the lumpy ground. Where were his hands?! He could hardly see in front of him, shaking his head he tried once more to control his arms which felt incredibly…odd. Did Dudley break both his arms? He was sore but nothing seemed to be screaming in excruciating pain. They just didn’t feel quite right. He waved his arms in a flapping motion and managed to suddenly tilt upright, stumbling over the ground and into the cold metal wall. He sagged against it for balance.
Peering around him, Harry was surrounded by four walls but as he glanced up he could see the stars above. Not in his cupboard then. The full moon, hidden previously by the clouds finally broke through and was able to shed some light on Harry’s situation. Harry glanced around him, finally putting the pieces together as to where he was. Why… he was in the bottom of the school dumpster! Harry couldn’t believe it! Dudley and his friends knocked him out and then put him in the dumpster?! Harry sat there in disbelief. Did Dudley think Harry had died and the school tossed his body in like garbage? No one had looked for him, even though it was clearly hours past the normal school hours? Even though it wasn’t a shock, it still made his chest twinge and throat tighten up. He had been called trash by his relatives before but he tried to not believe it. He sniffed, bringing up his bent arm to scrub his eyes only to flinch back at the black feathers that brushed against him instead.
Bewildered, Harry froze in shock as he stared at… wings? Black feathered wings were in place of his hands, he slowly dropped his gaze down to look at his feet only to squawk in surprise at his feathered torso and little black bird feet sticking out from underneath him. Each toe adorned with a sharp hooked black claw. He turned himself around in an ungraceful tumble of feathers letting himself catch a glimpse of a wedge-shaped tail behind him. A bird! He was a bird!
He had to be dreaming. He couldn’t pinch himself to tell. He didn’t have hands!
Harry tried to call out for help but what came out of his mouth? Beak? Was a croaky gurgle. He snapped his mouth shut at the sound. His heart was pounding out of his little bird chest. It felt like it was going to run away on its own. His breathing had picked up as his thoughts raced.
For some reason his thoughts spun to his book that he was reading earlier, The Witches. Harry had just read that morning about how witches were notorious for turning children into loathsome creatures so unsuspecting adults would kill them. Harry was hated enough on his own. He didn’t think he needed to be turned into a bird!
But… then… was this… magic?
Magic. The forbidden word of the Dursley household. Nothing that had anything to do with the topic of magic was allowed. This meant books, television, movies, or toys that had an inkling in anyway of the idea of magic. The only reason Harry knew about the genre of magic and fantasy tropes was from the school library where he frequently visited.
The only other thing that the Dursley household hated besides magic was questions. Especially questions from Harry. So Harry got his answers from books instead of people. He would hold onto all the questions he had until he was at the library where he could look for books to help satisfy his curiosity.
Harry shook his head, he wasn’t sure if books would help him now never mind trying to even get into the library. He didn’t think the school librarian would like a bird frolicking through the bookshelves. He was a bird. Not a boy. Harry paused. He was a bird. Not a boy… Not Harry… Not a Freak… Well… Harry was unsure of that last one.
An internal smile crept across Harry’s face. He was still Harry but not the boy, Harry, which everyone hated. And a bird could fly! If Dudley tried to bully him, why Harry could just fly away and sit in a tree. Dudley was too fat to climb a tree! Aunt Petunia and Uncle Dursley might be happier with him as a bird too! He took up even less space then when he was a boy and he probably didn’t need to eat as much either! Maybe he could convince Aunt Petunia to put up a birdhouse in the backyard and Harry could just live there instead of the cupboard. Harry was unsure of what chores he could do as a bird but he was sure his Aunt and Uncle could come up with something, they didn’t like him jobless.
They wanted him to build character. Not laze around like his deadbeat father or mother. Aunt Petunia always reminded him to be grateful that they were giving him a job or else he’d end up following in their footsteps: drunken fools who caused trouble to everyone. Though… it seemed like Harry was on his way to follow them even with the extra help Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon gave him.
Harry glanced back up at the sky, there was only one way out of the dumpster. He needed to learn how to fly. Harry glanced back at his wings, slowly spreading them out fully and giving a cautious flap. He tried again, flapping a bit harder while hopping in place. He felt himself hovering for a couple seconds but he didn’t rise off of the ground any higher and he fell back down onto his two feet. He glanced around the bin spying a beaten up plastic milk crate and hopped over to it. Maybe he needed to be higher. All the birds he’d seen nesting during spring time had their nests high up and when the babies left they just jumped off and flew.
Harry carefully climbed up the milk crate, using his beak as an extra handhold as he slowly clambered up the side. Now he stood about a foot off the ground, he needed to fly up another five feet in order to reach the lip of the opening.
He gave himself a little running start, an awkward gait as he was still figuring out his limbs, frantically flapping his wings as he leapt off of the crate. He spun in an out of control circle as he continued to beat his wings, trying to get some form of direction. He was getting a bit higher with each third flap of his wings, his legs bicycle kicking the air as he tried to get a rhythm going. A foot from the top. A couple more flaps and he managed to swing a foot over to grip the edge and leaned forward to try and plant his other before losing control of his movement and toppling, thankfully, forwards and out of the bin onto the ground.
He tumbled onto the gravel, his left wing gave a twinge of pain as Harry rolled to a stop. His heart was once again pounding hard against his ribcage, he could feel it throughout his entire body as he lay there panting from exertion. He made it. Now he could make his way back to #4 Privet Drive.
Harry managed to get back to his feet and started toddling along, hopping through the hole in the fence and out to the front of the school where he could retrace his normal school route back to the Dursleys. He didn’t try flying again as his left wing was sore and he wasn’t quite sure he could get off the ground again.
Harry wasn’t sure how long it took him to get back to #4 but it must have been quite late, the windows were dark. There was no light blaring from the television set that Uncle Vernon usually had on during the evening to watch the news. The little raven hopped down the front drive way and up the steps to the foyer of the front door and he tapped on it with his beak.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Harry paused and stepped back to wait and see if his Aunt or Uncle would answer the door. This wouldn’t be the first time Harry had gotten locked outside the house. Never at night though. Usually it was during the day when the Dursleys had to go somewhere and tossed the black-haired boy out into the yard with strict gardening instructions while they were away. He always had water from the hose and there was a little spot by the fence hidden from the neighbors prying eyes where he could pee. He was grateful he never had to go number two while stuck outdoors, skipping a few meals helped with that. If there was an emergency he was to go to Mrs. Figgs’ house.
Harry tried again.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It was silent. There were no footsteps pounding down the stairs or lights flickering on to acknowledge the tapping. Harry sighed and looked around before shuffling underneath one of the patio chairs and sitting down, he was surprisingly warm with his feathers despite the slight chill of the night. He would have preferred hiding in one of the bushes if Aunt Petunia had something else besides thorn riddled rose bushes. But at least this way, Harry could catch his Uncle before he left for work. Now that Harry had gotten himself out of the dumpster and to the Dursley’s home, he quietly pondered for a moment as he wasn’t quite sure what the best way to announce his presence was to his relatives.
He needed to get a crayon or a pencil and some paper. Maybe he could draw a message to them using his beak. He pondered this a bit more, he wasn’t quite sure how his Aunt and Uncle would take the news now that he was thinking about it. Harry wasn’t sure if magic turned him into a bird. It was quite like the magic that he had read about in books but Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always told him magic was not real.
Harry was starting to get a bit nervous at the thought. This situation was definitely… odd. And odd things happening meant Harry would get punished for it. He remembered reading that birds had hollow bones that allowed them to fly. A belt would surely hurt if it struck him. Uncle Vernon was heavy handed as well, he had managed to break Harry’s arm when he was a boy. But Harry was a bird now! With hollow bird bones instead of human bones.
But where else would he go? Harry couldn’t fly very well and even if he did, as an eight year-old boy he didn’t know anywhere else to call home. The local area besides the school and the supermarket that he’d been to a few times during stray shopping trips with Aunt Petunia were the other areas he was familiar with but he didn’t really want to live at school or the Tesco.
Uncle Vernon always told him he should be grateful to live under their roof and not an orphanage. Harry wasn’t sure if an orphanage would take a bird… and Harry didn’t want to go to an animal shelter… Would the Dursleys even keep him as a bird? Aunt Petunia had a fancy marble birdbath in the back yard that Harry had to scrub down weekly. She must be okay with birds if she had one. Harry couldn’t remember ever seeing a bird actually use the birdbath but what kind of person would get one and not be okay with birds?
The Dursleys would keep him. They had threatened to get rid of him so many times but never actually followed through on it. He was still Harry even if he was a bird. He was still part of their family. Wasn’t he?
Harry shuffled his feet closer together before tucking in his head against his chest, his eyes drooped shut and he slowly nodded off for the rest of the night.
__________IXI O> IXI__________
BANG!
Harry startled at the noise, jerking awake. His thoughts disorganized as the rush of what occurred yesterday came crawling back at record pace. A quick look down at his body confirmed he was still a bird. It wasn’t a dream then.
Heavy footsteps stomped past him as Uncle Vernon made his way to his car, whistling a cheery tune as he got into the car and then sped off to work. Harry sat there a few moments still a bit dazed from yesterdays events before clambering to his feet. Aunt Petunia had to be awake by now, maybe now he could be let in and get a piece of toast. Harry still wasn’t sure how to tell the Dursleys that a little black bird was him but he was hungry enough to at least try.
He stepped up to the door and quickly tapped on it three times.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Footsteps came from the other side and the door was yanked open to reveal his pudgy cousin, Dudley had answered the door instead of Aunt Petunia. Harry took a couple of hops backwards, Dudley didn’t have the best reputation with handling animals. Why, his carnival won goldfish only lasted a mere four hours before they were flushed down the toilet. Shaking the bag vigorously and repeatedly would do that. A pet hamster was lost after Dudley and his friends let it go in Mrs. Figgs’ cat infested yard. Another year he had chucked his pet turtle into the community lake like skipping a stone. It wasn’t found after it sank.
So as a bird, Harry had every right to be wary of his heavy set cousin.
“Who is it Dudley,” Aunt Petunia called from inside the house, “Did that boy finally come crawling back after running away?”
“No mummy, its just some dumb bird pecking at the door,” Dudley shouted back narrowing his eyes unknowingly at Harry. Dudley picked up an umbrella by the door and waved it at the bird to shoo him off the porch before Dudley went back inside, slamming the door closed as he went.
Crouched near one of the rose bushes, Harry felt a bit flustered at the accusation that he ran away. He had turned into a bird and then he was put into dumpster. It wasn’t his fault it took him the entire night to return back to the Dursleys. Not that they knew it was him.
Aunt Petunia and Dudley came bustling out the door a few moments later, they were headed down the street most likely to the bus stop that would take them over to the next town. Aunt Petunia usually took Dudley shopping on Saturdays, often with the bigger boy returning with some sort of new game or candy. Sometimes both. Dudley would always taunt him with it. Freaks don't get candy.
Harry had believed Dudley had actually gotten him a candy bar one time, his cousin had tossed him the sweet while eating his own, stating that Harry needed to try it cause it was just that good. Harry had thanked him, giving Dudley a hug, and pocketed the treat for later. He would eat it after dinner, his first dessert! He was sitting in the backyard before Aunt Petunia came up behind him and demanded it back, berating him for stealing from her Duddykins. A sneaky thief like Harry wasn’t allowed to eat dinner or breakfast the next day. His ear throbbed the rest of the night after Aunt Petunia used it to drag him into his cupboard.
Harry never took anything from Dudley again.
Harry watched them disappear down the road and he shuffled back over to the front door. The Dursleys didn’t seem that concerned with Harry’s disappearance, which Harry didn’t find odd but he wished that it was. His chest gave another odd twinge of hurt. Maybe the Dursleys would change their tune and start to panic when Harry wasn’t found. Maybe they would be a lot nicer to him once they found him, either as a boy or if he was still a bird. Part of Harry was starting to think he might not tell the Dursleys that he was now a bird.
His stomach rumbled again. Harry glanced forlornly at the mail slot which was a bit too narrow for him to squeeze his body through. He turned around and hopped along the side of the house towards the backyard. Sometimes the sliding door in the back was left unlocked. A common occurrence due to the safe suburban neighborhood combined with Dudley often causing a distraction with his whining, which the older Dursleys quickly accommodated leaving most simple things to be forgotten.
Harry seemed to be quite lucky as a bird. The sliding door was not only unlocked but slightly cracked open, enough for Harry to use his beak to shuffle it open a tad bit more so he could fully slip inside. The kitchen counter was a bit high for him to see what might have been left out but Harry could pick up the scent of bacon and he knew that the bread box would have a few slices inside.
Maneuvering himself over towards the living room, he worked his way up onto the couch cushion with a few flaps of his wings before another beat had him on the back of the couch. His left wing was still a bit sore but he could move it enough to get off the ground. Harry leapt off the couch and glided, still wobbly with his movements, onto the dining table. Another couple of flaps and wobbly gliding had him landing onto the kitchen counter. Finally.
There lying on a plate were two strips of bacon, a nudge of his beak flipped open the cover of the bread box which he pulled out a slice of white bread. Closing the bread box he carried his slice over to the plate of bacon and started to eat hurriedly. Well, as quickly as one could with no hands.
One piece of bacon and half a piece of bread later, Harry was full. He hopped over to the kitchen sink and nudged the faucet handle open and gave himself a good long drink of water. Harry was about to jump off the counter before he paused eyeing the half eaten piece of bread and other strip of bacon. It wouldn’t do any good if Aunt Petunia came back to find the mess. If Harry was going to hang around the house for the next couple of days, hiding out until the Dursleys wanted him back, Harry wanted to be able to come back into the house. Aunt Petunia would probably think Dudley took the last pieces of bacon before leaving the house. Dudley was always hungry.
Picking up both the last piece of bacon and the remainder of his bread, Harry flapped down onto the ground and made his way back out to the backyard. He needed to find a good hiding spot and a place to stash some extra food if he could grab some. Too bad he was unable to open up his cupboard. He had a small stash of crackers and dried fruit leftover that Harry would nibble on when he was stuck inside.
With no chores to do, Harry had plenty of time to work on his secret spot, nap, and wander back inside for an occasional drink of water. Harry… was happy.