"Some people call insomnia an unbearable suffering to the brain, as it has virtually no time to "rest". Of course, the brain never stops working, but sleeping is usually done while completely immobile, with the occasional unconscious move. Thus, the brain works loads less than when awake.
Different types of insomnia exist, such as acute insomnia, from which the subject can't maintain sleep during extended periods of time, resulting on both premature awakening and the feeling of not having rested. Even if chronic insomnia is regarded as rare, there are still some people which suffer of it. Those people are usually affected by another disorder, such as schizophrenia. Or it can be the main disorder.
Now, as everyone knows, wizards and muggles have the same problems, the same inventions, but adapted to their way of living. While muggles use post service to send their letters, wizards use extremely intelligent animals to deliver theirs. The same thing happens with diseases. Muggle flu is normally non-lethal, yet its variations can be. Magic flu is more dangerous than muggle flu, as its victims are relatively more powerful, but it's just as much a small illness, as wizards have discovered ways to counter it successfully. Today, either flu is lethal, even if people died from it before.
Thus, magical insomnia exists, and it's extremely rare. Contrary to its non-magical counterpart, it presents itself in only one way. It's incurable, but this "disease" is beneficial. Only very powerful people suffer from it, as their magic is more prevalent. Magical insomnia prevents sleep, just like normal insomnia, but the subject doesn't feel the consequences. The subject never feels the need to sleep, nor drowsiness. The only thing that can make them sleep is fainting or coma.
Famous bearers of this ability include Merlin the Great, the King Crimson, Salazar Slytherin, Pious Malefoy, Ricardo Potter and most recently, Albus Dumbledore."
Lying on his bed, Harry Potter snorted at the book: "Six? Make that seven!" He wrote 'and Harry Potter' at the end of the sentence, trying to imitate the writing the book was wrote in.
He sighed and closed the book. Why the heck couldn't he be at least a little normal? He hadn't slept since weeks and now he found out that the Potters descend from Spanish colons that conquered South America. So, apparently the Potters were still pure-blood, but they happened not to be British. What now? Does he descend from flying cows?
He opened the book on his right and readed the entire page. A weird bird came this morning and dropped this parcel. The curious bird looked... dusty, so Harry had tried to catch it, with the intention of cleaning it up. The bird lat a panicked strident beak and, to Harry's horror, it exploded. Not a phoenix explosion or a little bomb. A soundless explosion, which transformed the bird into ashes. Vernon chose that moment to barge into the room and see the situation. He thought that Harry was trying to light up the house, so he did what Vernon Dursley'll do.
He ordered him to take all his belongings and get the hell out.
And so, Harry found himself taking the Knight Bus again, this time under the identity of Harry Potter. The trip was "payed by the house" and an hour later, he found himself in front of the Leaky Cauldron. He booked the last "free" room (he suspected that Tom had kicked the former guests out, judging from the panties he found in the floor).
So, he accepted that being Harry Freaking Potter, the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die had its advantages. But still, poor people.
So, the contents of the book. Apparently, his life tended to follow cheesy storylines or something, because it happened to be part of his inheritance, which was given to each "Potter" when they reached the age of 14. Apparently, he wasn't Harry Potter, it was... some Spanish name he didn't want to read. For the time being, he was still Harry Potter. Or at least until he learnt Spanish...
The book looked like a dictionary. Hell, in a way, it was a dictionary. It included the names and biographies of all the Potters ever, starting from... Rowena Ravenclaw. 'Woo. So ironic. No Sly, No Gryf, Raven. This' gotta be poetic justice.' Some Potters had done more than others and he quickly found out that Potters apparently lived long. Woo Hoo. More suffering for poor Harry.
Sighing (yet again), he shut the book closed and got up. He walked to the window and opened it. Wind rushed in, followed by magic. And then, noise. 5 AM and Diagon Alley is already full...
He walked to the desk and pulled out his favourite swan quill, his ink bottle and some parchement. He began to write:
Dear Professor Dumbledore:...
Albus Dumbledore stared wide-eyed at the letter in front of him. Now these were news. He quickly (and flawlessly) wrote his response. He was about to give it to Fawkes when a white blur took off the paper from his hands. It was Hedwig, who looked rather offended. Dumbledore was ready to apologize and Accio the letter when the owl shooted out the window, heading towards London. Hell, even Harry Potter's owl was special!
The letter was finely elaborated, though the writing seemed hurried. It said, in resume, that he was suffering of magic insomnia, he got kicked out the house and he wanted training or something to do while he was supposed to sleep. The answer was:
Dear Harry,
Please, meet me at the entrance of Knockturn Alley. Bring dark clothing, preferably black
Albus Dumbledore
He hadn't even written all the titles he usually put under his signature. He swished his wand, turning his bright yellow robes black. He looked at himself in a conjured mirror. The black robes were perfect but there was a great problem.
The beard.
Oh, the dreaded beard.
Harry Potter, lying in his bed, was typing with something in his hand. He smirked and continued typing. The thing was pretty big... like a rectangle, made of plastic. Earlier, he'd opened it, so it was like two rectangles, one on top of the border of each other. The guy he'd bought this from was an amateur time-traveler, who explored the muggle world in 2008 and took items back. Nobody knows how he manages,
but there's no time paradoxes... but the guy isn't very popular. This little thing they call a "laptop" was an easily portable computer. Right now, using the Big Book Of The Future Culture that came included with the laptop, he was setting up this little wonder. It explained the future muggle world, and it's culture.
Unluckily, the guy who sold them wasn't so popular, as wizards don't care about muggle stuff, be it past, present or future. This was his liquidation sell and he was closing.
Suddenly, something smacked against his head. He fell backwards, along with the object he know identified as Hedwig. He got up quickly and checked if she hadn't any injuries. When his worries proved vain, he scolded the owl (who rolled her eyes) and took the letter from her beak. He then opened the door of her cage, where she entered gracefully and... took a nap. 'I swear that owl is more cat than bird...'
He readed it, then cursed, then re-readed, then re-cursed. He opened his trunk to find... no black. He looked everywhere, no black. Then, he opened the wardrobe to find... black. Apparently, the girl who was staying in the room was goth...
Then, he saw a great problem. The entire wardrobe was form-fitting, specially for curves. And the only pants that hadn't holes were leather.
"Dang, I swear this girl was on BDSM..."
Begrudgingly, he fitted himself in a black cotton turtleneck and some silk black pants. The main problem was that they had holes... 'Damn trends!' Hoping that he wouldn't be catched, he took his wand out and casted Reparo. He waited 5 minutes, for the dreaded Minister owl, but nothing came. Muttering to himself about bad wards, he whipped out his Invisibility Cloak off the ground and covered himself with it.
He opened a little the door, just enough for slipping out (he was very thin after all). He walked down the stairs noiselessly (years of practice at the Dursley's) and glided next to Tom, who was talking with a drunk. Apparently, the subject was very funny, as they both exploded with laughter. Harry took a paper that was lying in the floor and reached for the pen in Tom's back-pocket. With a great grimace, he slowly took it out, without Tom noticing anything. He scribbled a quick note and pat it in the same pocket he took the pen from.
He reached the door flawlessly, making no sound. When he reached the backyard, he noticed he had to wait until somebody came. Surprisingly, Tom came and opened the wall for him. He was smirking all the time and when he turned back, he said in a casual tone: "Thanks for informing me, Mr. Potter, though Mr. Dumbledore send me a note earlier asking me to open in this right moment. Curious, isn't it?"
Harry stood there, gaping at the retreating bartender. He rapidly closed his mouth and jumped through the closing gap. He made his way through the crowd, noticing Percy Weasley sitting with a girl at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. The girl in question was a Ravenclaw by the name of Penelope, that's the only thing Harry knew. Chuckling, he quickly found himself in front of the entrance to the Knockturn Alley. It was easily recognizable, as it lacked people, comparing it to the rest of Diagon Alley. It was also darker, much darker.
He looked around, but he didn't see Professor Dumbledore's trademark purple robes. He felt a hand grab his shoulder and take of his Cloak. He immediately took of his wand and aimed it at his aggressor's... beard?
He saw the amused blue twinkling eyes and relaxed a little, but he didn't take away the wand. Polyjuice was easy to make, these days.
"Lemon drop, dear boy?"
He relaxed completely and took away the wand. Only Dumbledore could say that in that peaceful yet powerful tone. Then, his eyes drifted to the headmaster's wardrobe. The black robes were a good change, and with his beard wrapped around his neck, he looked like Gandalf the Grey.
"Sir? Where are we going?"
"Well, I'm apparating both of us to Spain. Given your situation, it is very reasonable to bring you to your magical parents. You may learn a lot of things, as you have the power of being head of the house, being the only Potter left."
"Spain? Are you sure you can apparate us there?"
Dumbledore chuckled: "Oh no, it's sure I can't! That's why we are going to Knockturn Alley's Apparating Booster. It isn't exactly legal, but given the circumstances, we don't have time to request a Portkey."
"Umm... Sir? Illegal?"
"As a matter of fact, even wizards with the better intentions can stick to the law, don't they? You should know it by experience." He chuckled at Harry's blush, then gestured to follow him. Harry had grown quite a bit, so that he stood only some inches lower than Dumbledore. The two men walked into the shadowy alley...
"Elf's were beautiful yet vain creatures. They constantly put themselves first, not caring for anyone but them. Be it by ironic justice, an elf once married a human maiden. When their child was born, the house where they were catched on fire. The maiden, in her weakened state, managed to limp out the house. She begged on her knees for her husband to rescue the newborn, yet the vain man sneered and refused. He was completely fit to save the child, but by personal vanity, he chose not to. Then, the enraged woman, in her dying breath, cursed the elf kind. She cursed them with arcane magic, cursed them to become ugly servants for wizards, whom they considered inferior. Their skin turned brown, and they became little in size. Their face features, before beautiful, became bigger and wrinkled. Their beautiful hair fell off, along with their self-will. Since then, they became house-elves, slaves for their former inferiors, bonded to a master from whom they received orders they couldn't refuse. Their vanity was their downfall."
A/N: This is Chapter One. The last and first sections are extracts of books, and most of the information is made-up. This first chapter is destined to work up a consistent storyline, which I intend to continue through the 3 remaining years. Some of the things mentioned in the first chapters will be used as recurring subjects, such as Magical Insomnia and the House Elves. I won't tell more, sorry
R&R, preferably constructive!