Rejected Opening Scene For Chapter 4
Harry cradled the palm-sized bottle of celebratory tequila in his hand, staring down at it with blurred vision. His glasses lay broken beside him, his face and hair smeared with charcoal. With no uncertainty, he turned the cap with steady fingers, raising the liquor to his lips and let it fall down his throat like a shot.
Finally, wincing as the tequila hit his upset stomach, he casually tossed the bottle to the growing pile at his feet.
Perched on a vibrant yellow bumper block, the glow of the liquor store’s neon sign behind him bathed his back in red and blue light, the remains shining against the dark pavement of the parking lot and pooling in puddles of water and gas. He stared up monotonously at the sky - it was so bright downtown in the muggle world, with all of their fancy lights, that Harry couldn’t catch sight of a single star. It was eerie for the sky to be so empty. On August nights like this one - too hot to sleep in the dead heat of the car - Teddy and he would often lay in the grass and try to name their own constellations. In a world without power, the stars shone like the floating candles above the great hall.
Now, Harry was back in his cupboard, breathing heavily and hiding from monsters under a moth-beaten blanket. A girl at his kindergarten class had once informed him that monsters hid in closets and under the bed all the time - why should a broom cupboard be any different?
Harry chuckled quietly. He hadn’t thought about that since he’d first gone to Hogwarts. What an odd thing to be thinking about.
He reached back into the plastic bag to grab another tiny bottle. The gaggle of drunk men behind him at the doors pausing their squabble to eye him nervously as he moved before returning to loudly and belligerently yelling at each other.
Harry paid them no mind and absentmindedly wondered how he’d get the blood out of his clothes without spelling them stark white with the effort. Hermione may just have to forgive him for asking Dobby.