This is my resorted challenge
Disclaimer- I own nothing that has to do with Harry Potter (well, actually I DO have a couple trinkets, but that's beside the point)…as much as I wish I did
(AN; some things Harry, or some of the others may say or do may be out of character somewhat, but it's not my ignorance, it's just my gaudy American emphasis that totally butchers it, and for that I apologize, but I can't help it. I don't know what exactly they'd say in British terms, so bear with me, please. Thank you. Most of the time, I'll catch these, and try to fix them .)
Chapter one-HarryThings seem to have fallen back into the same monotonous rhythm since I've come back to Privet Drive, just like last summer, though I'm not surprised, or particularly thrilled about it. With exception for a couple changes of course: My godfather's d-, well, he's gone, the whole wizarding world think I'm crazy, and I'm prophesied to kill Voldemort before he kills me, though somehow I think I've known that all along. Just what a 16 year old needs to worry about right now. Of course, I had gotten the flood of "I'm sorry, Harry's at the beginning of the summer, from various members of the Order, and those who went with me that night at the Ministry. As if a few pieces of parchment can somehow miraculously make me feel better, or bring back the closest thing I've ever had to a father.
Harry ripped up the parchment at that, it was still hard to believe Sirius was gone, but denying it wasn't going to cover up the obvious emptiness he felt. Denial is what had kept the wizarding world oblivious of Voldemort's return until just recently and look where it got them, completely unprepared. He tore the pieces again and again, until it resembled confetti, and threw the remnants into the rubbish bin beside his 'once Dudley's until he broke it partially' desk. He couldn't risk keeping a journal with Dudley around, or anyone for that matter, but he needed to get some things off his mind. He had kept secluded for most of his summer holiday, rarely leaving his room. He had paced back and forth so much it had left a permanent wear mark in the wood.
It was now August 24th, a week before he would be going back to school. He still needed to go to Diagon Alley for his books and supplies, and he, Ron, and Hermione had planned to meet there and stay until having to go to King's Cross Station on the 1st. Fortunately, Harry had persuaded the Dursley's to drive him to London, they had to do some shopping of their own. Dudley needed a new uniform for his snobbish boarding school, Smelting's, he had grown out of the other one without much difficulty. Reminded of Ron and Hermione, Harry decided he should start packing if he was going to be leaving in…he checked the clock beside his bed, less than an hour?!
"Oh, how time flies…" he commented half-bitterly, as he began to gather his clothes, books, quills, and everything else from around his room. It wasn't that easy, he hadn't really bothered to keep up his room at all this summer, and he'd had his share of bouts of anger, throwing stuff across the room, sometimes with enough force to make a dent in the wall. Clothes lay strewn across the floor, the end of his bed; there was even a sock on top of his lamp, though he wasn't quite sure how he'd managed that. Crumpled bits of parchment littered the floor, mingling with his clothes; it was difficult to maneuver around without stepping on something. Harry had given up trying around late July, and now just walked across it like an uneven rug. He piled everything haphazardly in his trunk, closing the lid with difficulty, and locking it. Hedwig, who had just returned from her night's venture, sat already locked in her cage, her tawny brown eyes following him around the room.
Harry began pacing again, it was becoming a habit, his brow furrowed as he thought, ticking things off on his fingers to make sure he had everything. The last thing he needed was to whisk off to Hogwarts without his wand, or his… "Broom." He cursed, stopping mid pace. He stalked over to his wardrobe and grabbed his broom from behind an old coat in the corner of it. He went over and reopened his trunk, the contents spilling over the sides. There was no room. Cursing again, he set his Firebolt down on his bed, and turning back to the trunk. He was tempted to pull out his wand and try that trick Tonks had used the summer before, but he couldn't remember the spell. As much amusement it would have been to see his trunk go up in smoke, he'd rather not have to explain how his entire wardrobe and supplies self-combusted. Therefore, he resorted to muggle methods. He took everything out and piled in on the floor, then threw the scraps of parchment away that he hadn't bothered to sort out before, and folded his clothes half-heartedly and threw them in the one side of the trunk, so that pretty much they looked the same as before. He piled his books, quills, etc., in the other side, and laid his broom on top. Satisfied, he closed the trunk again, and locked it. Again. He checked his new watch that he'd bought himself after taking up a paper route this summer as a means of getting out of the house. It was 11:45, time to go.
He gathered his trunk, latching Hedwig's cage on top of it, and began to drag it down the stairs. As he reached the bottom, Uncle Vernon's purple face materialized at the bottom of the stairs. "C'MON, WE DON'T HAVE ALL D- oh. There, you are." He stated, turning back toward the entryway, without even a hint of apology for nearly blowing Harry's eardrums out. Harry clenched his teeth, fuming, and checking his watch again. He couldn't wait to get out of this sad excuse for a home.
He finished dragging his trunk out to the Dursley's car and putting it in the trunk before situating himself in the backseat next to his oversized cousin, Dudley, who glared at him before turning to stare out the window. Harry rolled his eyes as his Aunt and Uncle also climbed into the car, and after starting it, pulled out of the driveway a starting toward London. None of the Dursley's bothered to talk to Harry, or even look at him, and Harry was sure the mood wouldn't change much in the ride to London, how fun.
(AN: It's a sort of short chapter, and for that I apologize, but I've got a term paper due that I haven't even started, as well as musical rehearsals and junk. But at least you get to see Harry's anger and irrational behavior begin to develop. I'm hoping to get another chapter up soon, but I can't promise anything, so you'll have to bear with me. I'm also not sure how well this story'll come off to y'all, since I revamped everything…my old stories were awful. So, tell me what you think, and depending on the response I get, maybe I'll continue. .)
End Chapter One