Welcome to my new Fanfiction. Yes, it's still based on Harry Potter, but this for those who probably think Voldemort and Harry should continue to be enemies. This is about a rebel Harry that nobody knows about until Prof. Snape discovers it. Just remember this ain't a sequel to "Strength to Fight", just another Harry Potter Fanfiction. Please enjoy this new series.

Harry was on the roof top listening to his tape recorder, Paradise by the Dashboard Light from Meatloaf. His hood was up and the sky was a beautiful dark blue color, the stars were bright and his Potion book opened as he read. He might of hated the class because of Prof. Snape, his potion teacher, ruined it, but he loved the interesting facts that were in the book about each different potions. In general, Harry loved to read, a lot. From fiction to non-fiction to science to many more books out there, Hermione out of the Golden Trio was the only one who knew his love for books. He's smart, but because he was the Seeker for the Gryffindor House, and that Hermione was known to be the bookworm, he had to act like someone he wasn't. he gladly allowed Hermione that title, he didn't want people to come up to him to do his work, like Elementary school years.

Also, his clothes were another secret. He wore mostly out of the top clothes; dark and light skinny jeans, band shirts, skater shorts, skater shoes, and boots. But, he left all them, except his regular everyday clothes, back at the Dursley's. Why, because he didn't want people think he was evil for listening or liking things that were dark. Harry study a lot of Muggle dark magic with the supernatural, and followed the Pagan belief too. He was the total opposite of what the Golden Boy, the Boy-Who-Lived, is meant to be. Why should anyone know his true self, who cares, they didn't care about the scars he received from his family or himself.

Yes, Harry cut himself and his family always beaten him, but never to the point where they had to sent him to the hospital. They claimed that he starts it all, when in reality they do. He was claimed to be a liar, and everyone in his neighborhood believed them. But, he didn't care, being known as the lying bad boy was a better title than the Boy-Who-Lived or the Golden Boy or Hero. Growing up, he always did bad things. No he never bullied anyone, but he had violated the law plenty of time, ending himself in juvie. Stealing, violating someone's property, tripping cops, selling alcohol and cigarettes, and hijacking cars; and he had went to juvie no more than twenty to thirty times out of the ten years not knowing who he truly was.

When Prof. Snape continued to taunt him about how he was so much like his father, he really stopped caring, but acted like he did because they all expect the Golden Boy to act on it. He hardly knew his father, if Prof. Snape was right about his father, then he was probably telling the truth. He was just like his father, a trouble maker. At least he wasn't like his family; ungrateful snobs who act like they're better than everyone else, thinking they are normal.

Harry ran his hand through his hair, messy and dark, almost blending into the roof shingles. His skin very pale cream color, his body small; who would think that the Golden Boy would cause so much trouble in his life, to help him control his unnatural powers that continue to grow stronger with his emotions. With a sigh, he swung himself back into his room and landed feet first on the desk. Hedwig was gone for her evening hunt, and his room was spotless empty, lonely. He put his Potion textbook down and grabbed his traveling backpack, and walked out of his room with his headphones in his ears.

"Potter!" his uncle, Vernon, roared for the boy's attention. "Where do you think you're going at this hour?!"

Harry turned around and looked into the piggy devilish eyes of his uncle's. "A walk, is it illegal for a freak to do it?"

"Watch your mouth, or I'll make sure you watch." Vernon said with a sneer. "The doors will be locked, as you know. So you better hope your window is still unlocked by the time you get back. Oh, by the way, Aunt Marge is coming for the week."

Harry rolled his eyes, he hated that woman, if that thing was a woman. She's not even his real aunt, only the sister if his uncle's is all. She never liked him because he was a trouble maker, he never liked her because she was the devils bride. If Prof. Snape ever meet them, they would be having a fuck tea party, talking about all sorts of shit about him. "I'll behave myself, if she does too. If I recall, she threw a plate at my head for nothing the last time she came here."

His uncle only sneered. "It was only an accident."

"And so is my magic, yet I'm treated like I'm the criminal of the year. And you wonder why I've caused more trouble in Little Whining in less than a decade," Harry said, with a mocking smile. "Alright I'll be going, if you need me, you know where to find me." With that, Harry left the house quietly closing the front door.

Harry was able to buy beer off of a guy from down the streets, thanks to everyone dropping loose change in the house, he was able to get a six pack and a carton of cigarettes for eight pounds. He walked back to the house satisfied and saw the downstairs lights were off, through his bedroom window, he saw a fluffy white ball sitting there, Hedwig returning from her nightly hunt.

"Pssst! Hedwig, can you bring this package in my room, just put it on my desk," Harry whispered to his owl. "If you do, you get some treat bonuses." Hedwig flew down to Harry, taking the plastic bag in her paws and flew up to his bedroom window. With free hands, Harry began his climb up to his bedroom window.

It didn't take long, climbing in and out of the window he got use to using his muscle to climb. he went through the window, little sweat beads on his forehead, and went through his trunk for owl treats. "Just as I promised, here you go girl." The owl hooted happily, and flew back to her cage with treats in her paws. "Now, I can relax for a few more hours with a few drinks and cigs." He opened his Transfiguration book and began to read.

As two hours passed, he was already down to his last three cans of beer and half a dozen of cigs, he rolled over and yawned. It was already midnight, he stayed up too long, with a smile he got up to change into his pajamas. He snuggled into his bed and flicked the lights off. there were some nights he couldn't sleep and this was one of them. He missed Hogwarts, no matter how much he hated the for gods sake school, he still had a bit more freedom to do what he wanted without the Dursley's to ruin his fun. Aunt Marge was coming for the week, he was more worried about his aunt then anything in the world, his magic has yet to be tamed. At Hogwarts, he felt like everytime he learned new and more powerful magic, his magical core keeps growing and getting worse. Sometimes, especially on the night he couldn't sleep, he felt like his magic was going to burst. It was quite scary, and his emotions were all over the place. With no control over anything, he was a ticking time bomb that you didn't want to tick off.

Harry was scared of his own magic, it reminded him of the story he read once when he was a little. Afraid of his own ability and it got stronger and stronger and the control became harder; but at least the character had a happily ever after. He couldn't sleep, he just couldn't his fear was just growing as the sun was slowly rising into the sky to bring in a brand new day. Heavy footsteps could be heard from the hallway, then a knock came onto the door.

"Boy," his uncle's voice could be heard through the door. "I need to talk to you now."

Harry got out of bed and walked to his bedroom door, he opened the slowly and quietly. "Yes…."

"I need a few things down in the house before she comes here today. I need you to make her bed, clean the kitchen, and make that… apple tart that she really likes," his uncle said with a hesitant face. "I know you and her don't get along, but for once control yourself. and to save you for the trouble you're about to do to make her your famous apple tarts, I'll pay you."

"How much?" Harry said, with more energy than he thought he had in him.

"Twenty pounds," Vernon answered.

Harry nodded excitedly. "Anything else you want baked? I think twenty is a bit much for just apple tart."

Vernon thought for a moment. "How about some of your strawberry shortcakes and lemon black tea that I so truly like?"

"Alright," Harry said, with his hands out. His uncle looked at him with an eyebrow crooked up. "I don't trust you."

"Sadly, you're smarter then Dudley," Vernon said digging through his wallet for twenty pounds. With that in Harry's hand, Vernon went down the stairs for breakfast. "Don't forget to clean the kitchen well."

"I won't."

Harry went through the house to make sure everything was spotless, just to make his uncle happy, or that his aunt stopped nagging him about his cleaning habit. After he finished with cleaning the house, especially the kitchen, he went on to baking the apple tarts and strawberry shortcakes. His aunt taught him to love baking and just cooking in general, ever since he made the strawberry shortcake for his uncle's birthday, all by himself, he was cook for the household. His aunt cooked while he was at Hogwarts, but when ever he came back, she would buy the freshest ingredients for him to use to cook. The cake could be smelled throughout the house, once in awhile, dudley would sneak in to see if any was made. Sadly his aunt would always stop Dudley from coming into the kitchen.

"Wait until daddy and auntie get home, Dudders," Aunt Petunia would say. "then you can have all the sweets you can eat."

Dudley almost complained until Harry brought two freshly made strawberry shortcakes to Dudley. "It's okay. He can have two now, still warm from the oven taste better anyways." This made Dudley happy and he took them from Harry, without a thank you, and sat on the couch to watch the telly. "Aunt Petunia, could you help me in the kitchen, I need some more apples sliced up?"

"Fine."

Hours has passed and everything was made, including lunch, which Aunt Petunia made instead of Harry. Harry sat the table up, as if it was a cafe. When everything seemed perfect, he went upstairs to put on fresh clothing on. In twenty minutes, his uncle and the devils bride was to come through the doors. "Dudders hurry up and let mummy put on your fancy bow tie to show your auntie how manly you gotten!"

"Should I wear a tie or no tie?"

Aunt Petunia looked at Harry for a moment. "No tie. Tuck your shirt in and open your color up by one, also take that hideous sweater off."

With that, Harry fixed himself up. He went down the stairs afterwards and waited for their arrival home. Not even two minutes and the door slammed opened, the worse part was that it was raining and lightning was striking all over the place. It was like a dramatic effect for his aunt's grand entrance. She looked like the woman version of Uncle Vernon, and held an English bulldog in one arm and the other hand was holding one of her luggages. "Boy! Take my belongings upstairs!" She literally tossed it at Harry fell to the floor with a thud, the bags were always heavy. Dudley looked sorry for a moment not until his aunt snatched him into her arms giving him kisses all over his face.

"Dudley, you grew so nicely," Aunt Marge said in a baby voice. "Look how nicely your muscles are, so much like you father!"

"Lunch is already out to be eaten," Aunt Petunia said, while hugging Aunt Marge. "The boy also made your favorite, apple tarts!

Aunt Marge looked strangely at Harry, as if he did some sort of crime. "When the bloody hell did the boy learn to cook anything? I thought you were the cook."

Aunt Petunia blushed slightly. "The boy allowed me to take credit, since he knew you would never praise him or anything." Which was true, his aunt taught him so she deserved the credit, he hated getting attention from her. "But, this time I give him full credit. He's a better cook than I."

She snorted. "We'll see about that. And hurry up boy, take my things up to my room!"

Harry sighed. "Yes… Aunt Marge."

"Don't take that tone with me mister!" As she walked to the kitchen Harry groaned with agony, this was going to be a long week.