Chapter 3
This time, they didn't lock him in the cupboard. It was much worse than that. If Aster's wrist hadn't been broken already, it sure was now. And Harry-he got locked up. This meant Aster was forced to be in two places at once. He pulled open the door to the basement with a cough. God, there was so much dust down here. He rubbed his brown eyes before continuing. Harry had gotten his glasses thanks to the dust down here and in the cupboard-Aster hoped he wouldn't go the same way. Glasses did not look good on him.
He trekked down the steep stairs on tiptoe. How did the floor plans for this house ever get approved? Once, he'd twisted his ankle going down these stairs when he was five.
When he got to the bottom after what seemed like an eternity, he found the light string almost immediately. By found, he meant bumped into. It was pitch-black and crammed in the basement of Number Four, Privet Drive. Goodness knows what they had him in for. Aunt Petunia had asked him to retrieve a glass for her. Aster didn't know why she'd want a boring old glass; his aunt wasn't exactly the sort of person who kept things in the basement, he thought bitterly. Anything about his parents, for example.
He frowned. The idea of Aunt Petunia keeping a glass in the basement didn't make sense. At all. Aster finally bumped into the pile where the glass was, and despite the light being dim, he spotted it almost immediately. It was a normal-looking glass, although rather old.
Aster was right. There was nothing normal at all about the glass, though he didn't know. He shifted uncomfortably in too-big trainers, and before he could think twice, he grabbed the glass. With a sharp yell, he dropped it on his foot. It shattered, but next to it landed a shoebox. He grumbled to himself, but stopped immediately when he realized what the shoebox was. The lid had dropped off when it fell off of the pile, and for good reason. Aster sank to his knees, staring at the contents of the overflowing box. A photo. A flower. An invitation. More photos. A scarf. A piece of glass the same shade as Harry's eyes-the exact color. And letters, so many letters, on parchment and on regular paper. Even some drawings. He stared numbly at the photo. A young couple stood there, a tall man with black hair and glasses, and a woman who had Aster's red hair and freckled complexion. His parents.
He scanned the photo hungrily, before folding it up into his pocket. He'd look at it more later. For now, he had to hide a shoebox.
-Oh wow! I'm glad this has gotten so much attention. Two more chapters until wizarding world!