Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material that you are about to read
concerning Harry Potter. I only own the intricate plot and the characters
of necessity that are placed around it. J.K. Rowling and Scholastic
Publishing, Inc. own everything else; therefore you are left to the factual
conclusion that I am making no money in any form off the Internet
distribution of this fan fiction.
Author's Note in Concern for the following literary art: This "work" in all accounts must be taken seriously. You must have a mature enough mind to be able to stand things such as extreme violence, graphic descriptions, and sometimes-extreme sexual situations. You have been warned as to what to expect, for inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry there arrives a tale unlike any other to pour from the halls of learning. The Wizarding world itself becomes affected by the tragic story of one boy and a group of his friends in the tragic history derived directly from the walls of the old fortress. A tale of greed, lust, loves, death, sorrow, and power shrouds year six of Harry Potter.
Legatum Extrema Morta
Dear One,
Can we not say enough to make you forget your pain? Cannot we call upon the gods to make you have your way? Vintae Denus! No, we cannot call a god, for you shall become one.
Chapter One
A dreary haze of left over sunlight floated to Privet Drive's small corner on the earth's crust. It's perfectly kept lawns and amazingly clean houses glistened in the sunlight overshadowing even the smallest blemish in Little Whinging, Surrey. It would be perfect paradise for any family in the world to raise their children without threat of gangs, drugs, or any of the other obscenities that seemed to have parents worry constantly about their children.
Every resident up and down the street would think this almost immediately as a description of their perfect little abode with its green lawns and trimmed hedges. There was, however, something that did appear to become a blemish on Number 4's record. It was over looked by almost everyone with the exception of the three-member family living there.
Normally, one would not be bothered by a broken pair of glasses lying in their front yard about seven in the evening. These people, the Dursleys, were the exception. They became extremely worried when they found a broken pair of glasses reflecting the sun shining rays to the luscious green grass. What added to their worry even more was the lack of an owner behind the glasses. Normally they knew exactly what would be there, but this evening things were different. Laying the glasses on the table, Mr. Dursley sat down with his underweight giraffe of a wife and overweight whale of a sun and stared quietly at the glasses. They were sitting directly in front of slim boy of about fifteen with messy raven black hair and piercing green eyes. Shaking with anger, Mr. Dursley opened his mouth.
"What," he sneered, "do you think you were doing boy? Are you trying to let everyone in Britain know that we have a freak living with us?"
The black haired boy wore a defiant look as he replied to the man who was supposed to be his guardian. "Yes Uncle Vernon," he said sarcastically, "That is precisely what I am trying to do. I am absolutely dying to let all of Britain I know that I am under the guardianship of a FAT-"
At this Vernon Dursley and his son Dudley rose from their chair with scandalized look on their porky faces, "Do not finish that statement Potter," called the older man.
"UGLY-"
A long stick had been produced out of his cousin's hand and was now being pointed threateningly towards Harry, but the boy gave a flashing smile and finished, "PIG!"
Wham! The boy-who-lived found himself flying at an enormous speed against the wall behind him. Pain rippled through his body at the look of great humor filling his uncle's face. That was the first time the Dursleys had ever hit him; too bad it would not be the last.
A swift kick to the ribs soon followed the massive pain of the backhand that had stung his face. Blood poured from the bruised damaged cheek and ribs cracked under mighty force. Harry felt one pierce something inside his body.
Vernon Dursleys' manic laughter filled the room at the look of his fallen prey. Fire in two beady black eyes gave into the desire for pain and death. It was though a predator had taken over the man. "Let's see you ever go back to that school again boy!" he screamed. "If you call your friends I will know, and before they arrive I will kill you. I will bring you death unlike anything you have ever heard of. You will die Potter; you will die at my hands!"
Another kick to the abdomen made the teenager break into to tears despite the pain he was feeling. If only Sirius was here; if only Sirius had not die. The boy's eyes glazed over at the thought of his godfather. "Why did you leave me?" he whispered to himself. "Why couldn't I save you?"
Dudley just laughed at his crying cousin. "You have no tolerance for pain Potter," he laughed. I wish I could get you in the ring with me, and I would show you pain."
The next thing the teenage wizard knew, the youngest of his family was throwing punch after punch into his face, much to the humor of his aunt and uncle. Moments later a gulf of blackness covered Harry Potter, and a Ministry of Magic official in London, England signaled for an immediate call to arms. According to the magical life sensory, a wizard had just died at Number 4 Privet Drive; everyone knew that the only magical resident there was the future of the wizarding world.
Vernon and Petunia panicked at the sight of their dead nephew. They tried to hide the body in the cupboard under the stairs, but it was burning to their touch. For some reason they could not even touch the corpse. "Dudley," started Vernon, "run to the car!" But the fat teenager could not budge.
Standing in the landing were three black robed figures whose faces were covered by their dark hoods. The leader raised his hand and silenced the large chunk of human starting to yell at him. "I come for the body of Harry Potter mortal," it said quietly. After only a few short seconds the three had gone from the Dursleys' house leaving behind only a charred shell of something that appeared to be a body of their nephew.
As soon as the three mysterious creatures had come and left, the front door splintered open with the shattering effects of the Reductor Curse. Once again Vernon began trying to run, but a yellow beam caught him square in the chest as he turned around.
"Vernon Dursley," began a cold gruff voice full of some kind of deep sorrow. The magical eyes of Mad-Eye Moody entered out of the dark corner of the pantry and flicked his wand. Green ropes flowed from the magical channel and wrapped around the porky man. "You are under arrest for the torture and murder of one Lord Harry Potter."
A/N: Sometimes my writing is decent. Sometimes it is not. I hope this is one of the times in which it is. If you do not like, please feel free to tell me; usually, however, I will not care. Also try and take a chance to review if you like, those I will respond to. Then again, I will respond to the one that don't like as well. Either way I am going to respond.
Next Chapter: Expect it to be much longer.
-Who were the three robed figures briefly mentioned in the first chapter?
-The funeral of Harry potter
-Dumbledore cries
Author's Note in Concern for the following literary art: This "work" in all accounts must be taken seriously. You must have a mature enough mind to be able to stand things such as extreme violence, graphic descriptions, and sometimes-extreme sexual situations. You have been warned as to what to expect, for inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry there arrives a tale unlike any other to pour from the halls of learning. The Wizarding world itself becomes affected by the tragic story of one boy and a group of his friends in the tragic history derived directly from the walls of the old fortress. A tale of greed, lust, loves, death, sorrow, and power shrouds year six of Harry Potter.
Legatum Extrema Morta
Dear One,
Can we not say enough to make you forget your pain? Cannot we call upon the gods to make you have your way? Vintae Denus! No, we cannot call a god, for you shall become one.
Chapter One
A dreary haze of left over sunlight floated to Privet Drive's small corner on the earth's crust. It's perfectly kept lawns and amazingly clean houses glistened in the sunlight overshadowing even the smallest blemish in Little Whinging, Surrey. It would be perfect paradise for any family in the world to raise their children without threat of gangs, drugs, or any of the other obscenities that seemed to have parents worry constantly about their children.
Every resident up and down the street would think this almost immediately as a description of their perfect little abode with its green lawns and trimmed hedges. There was, however, something that did appear to become a blemish on Number 4's record. It was over looked by almost everyone with the exception of the three-member family living there.
Normally, one would not be bothered by a broken pair of glasses lying in their front yard about seven in the evening. These people, the Dursleys, were the exception. They became extremely worried when they found a broken pair of glasses reflecting the sun shining rays to the luscious green grass. What added to their worry even more was the lack of an owner behind the glasses. Normally they knew exactly what would be there, but this evening things were different. Laying the glasses on the table, Mr. Dursley sat down with his underweight giraffe of a wife and overweight whale of a sun and stared quietly at the glasses. They were sitting directly in front of slim boy of about fifteen with messy raven black hair and piercing green eyes. Shaking with anger, Mr. Dursley opened his mouth.
"What," he sneered, "do you think you were doing boy? Are you trying to let everyone in Britain know that we have a freak living with us?"
The black haired boy wore a defiant look as he replied to the man who was supposed to be his guardian. "Yes Uncle Vernon," he said sarcastically, "That is precisely what I am trying to do. I am absolutely dying to let all of Britain I know that I am under the guardianship of a FAT-"
At this Vernon Dursley and his son Dudley rose from their chair with scandalized look on their porky faces, "Do not finish that statement Potter," called the older man.
"UGLY-"
A long stick had been produced out of his cousin's hand and was now being pointed threateningly towards Harry, but the boy gave a flashing smile and finished, "PIG!"
Wham! The boy-who-lived found himself flying at an enormous speed against the wall behind him. Pain rippled through his body at the look of great humor filling his uncle's face. That was the first time the Dursleys had ever hit him; too bad it would not be the last.
A swift kick to the ribs soon followed the massive pain of the backhand that had stung his face. Blood poured from the bruised damaged cheek and ribs cracked under mighty force. Harry felt one pierce something inside his body.
Vernon Dursleys' manic laughter filled the room at the look of his fallen prey. Fire in two beady black eyes gave into the desire for pain and death. It was though a predator had taken over the man. "Let's see you ever go back to that school again boy!" he screamed. "If you call your friends I will know, and before they arrive I will kill you. I will bring you death unlike anything you have ever heard of. You will die Potter; you will die at my hands!"
Another kick to the abdomen made the teenager break into to tears despite the pain he was feeling. If only Sirius was here; if only Sirius had not die. The boy's eyes glazed over at the thought of his godfather. "Why did you leave me?" he whispered to himself. "Why couldn't I save you?"
Dudley just laughed at his crying cousin. "You have no tolerance for pain Potter," he laughed. I wish I could get you in the ring with me, and I would show you pain."
The next thing the teenage wizard knew, the youngest of his family was throwing punch after punch into his face, much to the humor of his aunt and uncle. Moments later a gulf of blackness covered Harry Potter, and a Ministry of Magic official in London, England signaled for an immediate call to arms. According to the magical life sensory, a wizard had just died at Number 4 Privet Drive; everyone knew that the only magical resident there was the future of the wizarding world.
Vernon and Petunia panicked at the sight of their dead nephew. They tried to hide the body in the cupboard under the stairs, but it was burning to their touch. For some reason they could not even touch the corpse. "Dudley," started Vernon, "run to the car!" But the fat teenager could not budge.
Standing in the landing were three black robed figures whose faces were covered by their dark hoods. The leader raised his hand and silenced the large chunk of human starting to yell at him. "I come for the body of Harry Potter mortal," it said quietly. After only a few short seconds the three had gone from the Dursleys' house leaving behind only a charred shell of something that appeared to be a body of their nephew.
As soon as the three mysterious creatures had come and left, the front door splintered open with the shattering effects of the Reductor Curse. Once again Vernon began trying to run, but a yellow beam caught him square in the chest as he turned around.
"Vernon Dursley," began a cold gruff voice full of some kind of deep sorrow. The magical eyes of Mad-Eye Moody entered out of the dark corner of the pantry and flicked his wand. Green ropes flowed from the magical channel and wrapped around the porky man. "You are under arrest for the torture and murder of one Lord Harry Potter."
A/N: Sometimes my writing is decent. Sometimes it is not. I hope this is one of the times in which it is. If you do not like, please feel free to tell me; usually, however, I will not care. Also try and take a chance to review if you like, those I will respond to. Then again, I will respond to the one that don't like as well. Either way I am going to respond.
Next Chapter: Expect it to be much longer.
-Who were the three robed figures briefly mentioned in the first chapter?
-The funeral of Harry potter
-Dumbledore cries