Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
By Silver Sailor Ganymede
He is sitting at the table, waiting for his letter to arrive. It is his birthday, but all he wants is that one letter, that one special letter, just like his brothers have had on their eleventh birthdays.
His parents want him to do something for his birthday, and usually he would, but not today. He doesn't want anything else today: just the letter, only the letter. He wants to make his parents proud, he wants to be like his brothers. He wants to know that he too can study magic in the wonderful school his brothers often speak about.
He stares out of the window and looks for any owls arriving. One does and he smiles; maybe this is the owl, maybe, just maybe… But then it drops another present on the table and he feels his heart sink: he doesn't want presents this year, all he wants is his letter.
He opens the present anyway, not bothering to wait for the rest of his family to come downstairs. It's a spellbook, one of the ones he knows he'll need for the coming year of school. He smiles; it will come in useful later, now all he needs is his letter…
He waits and waits, just staring at the sun as it rises and falls, just sitting there, sitting, waiting. When she sun sets he is still there, still waiting. Even now in his mind he is sitting at the table, waiting for his letter to arrive. The letter never comes.