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Tap...tap...tap...
Harry Potter was jerked awake by the sudden unavoidable sound coming from the opposite side of the closed window in his bedroom. One lazy emerald eye peeked open and focused on a blurry outline of a white owl that patiently waited for entrance. Harry yawned widely and threw his legs over the side of his bed and stretched his arms to the ceiling, resulting in a small popping sound coming from his vertebrae. With his newly entrance into consciousness, came the undeniable urge to hold onto the dream he was having before he was yanked back into reality. The dream had obviously been a good one, Harry noted, after noticing the small inconvenience between his legs that forced his boxers to become constricted. 'Another time...' he told himself as he focused on his now flustered visitor who was still perched outside his window. He immediately lifted the latch on his window and forced it open enough for the owl to make her way inside. Upon opening the window, Harry was surprisingly greeted by the crisp, summer morning breeze that smelled of grass, sun and and flowers. Memories of his past summers immediately followed with flashes of spending time with his best friend, Ron Weasley, as his house, or more commonly known as The Burrow.
Harry's white owl, Hedwig, settled herself on Harry's desk and stuck her leg out so he could collect the parcel that was attached to her. 'Thanks, girl', He whispered and settled himself back onto his bed and began tearing at the package. It was gifts from his two school friends, Ron and Hermione. According to the letter that came along with his gifts, they were both spending time together during the summer holidays. Last year, the two decided to come to terms with their feelings for each other and awkwardly, at first, became a couple. Harry was elated that his friends pushed past their childish insecurities and took on a more adult approach to their growing feelings for each other. Even though Harry was excited for them, he couldn't help slight stirring of jealously the formed in the pit of his stomach each time he saw them together. Harry was lonely, and wished he could have someone to call his own. Someone whom he could lean on, and cherish, and love.
Harry battered the budding sense of gloom that creeped up inside of him. He planned on letting nothing get him down today. For today, he was a man. A full fledged adult wizard. Today was his 17th birthday and he wanted to drink up the joy of finally reaching adult hood. For Harry, that was a feat all in itself. To understand this, one must know that Harry is no ordinary teen or an ordinary wizard. One would think so just by looking at him. He was lean, slightly muscular from his love of Quiddich (wizard sport played on brooms), he had messy black hair which he stopped trying to tame years ago. He kept his small room messy, with clothes strewn all over the floor, books propped up haphazardly along his desk, and cups and wrappers seem to be forming a small army all over everything else. But Harry was forced into a celebrity role at the tender age of one years old when a mass murdering evil wizard killed his family but failed to kill him. Upon failing to kill the infant, the evil wizard, Lord Voldemort, was ripped from his physical body and forced to lurk among the living as something less than a human. Harry became famous overnight. But sadly, many failed to realize Voldemort was not dead, and he was resurrected when Harry was fourteen years old. In the past three years Voldemort has slowly began building an army to take over the wizarding world, and he has not forgot about the boy who brought his downfall sixteen years ago.
Harry Potter is not an ordinary wizard.