Chapter 1: Epilogue (Sort of)
Disclaimer: Everything recognizable doesn't belong to me.
P.S. Sirius is alive and Voldemort was killed in the battle at the Ministry.
It was July 30th, 1996 at 11:45 p.m. in Little Whinging, Surrey in England.
A boy with unruly black hair, bright green eyes, and round spectacles lay on his bed at Number 4 Privet Drive. It was just minutes before his 16th birthday.
His name was Harry James Potter. For those that don't know, (you shouldn't be reading this if you don't. Go read the books first) he lived with his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and his cousin Dudley.
Harry lay on his bed (as stated before) and contemplated his life. He kept having nightmares of that day at the Ministry. He kept remembering when Bellatrix had shot that spell…. And how Remus had caught Sirius right before he could fall the veil. He kept remembering how Voldemort had appeared out of nowhere and possessed his body, trying to take over. He remembered how he pushed him out with the love for his family and friends. He had killed him in the process. The love had been too much for Voldemort, and he shriveled up and died.
"Fuck."
He sighed and sat up, looking at the clock. 11:53.
He took his glasses off and set them on his bedside table. He laid back down and started counting down the minutes until his birthday.
"We get out of here tomorrow, Hedwig," he murmured.
With that said, he fell asleep. It was 11:59.