I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER
this is my first fanfic so please BE NICE WHEN YOU REVIEW XP
SLASH AHEAD:: if you don't like... leave!
Chapter 1: The Man Who Lived
A fresh snow was lightly covering the ground and a new layer was beginning to fall. Each snowflake caught the reflection of the moon, causing the falling snow to sparkle ever so slightly as it made its way to the ground. The air was cold, and anyone outside would see their steamy breath evaporate into the night sky.
Harry Potter stood by the edge of the river, his hands deep into his robes. He had been standing there for well over an hour and he, only now, had begun to feel the cold upon his skin. He turned around and made his way back into the house at Godric's Hollow.
It had been five years to the day, since the legendary "War of the Worlds" had taken place, where Harry had defeated Lord Voldemort once and for all. It was the winter of his last year at Hogwarts when the school was attacked. Everyone was sent to their dorms, except members of the D.A. and all seventh years. Members of the Order apparated into Dumbledore's office that night, and hand in hand, everyone left his office, prepared for the final battle.
Though prepared was far from what they were, because the casualties of that battle were something no one, not even Harry himself, could be prepared for. Fallen comrades collected at his feet, his own friends among them. It was only a matter of hours before Harry had lost Hermione and Ron, both, to the battle he had caused.
The guilt he lived with every day from then and after, was a pain Harry had never felt before. Deep in his stomach, a permanent pit was left in memory of his two, and only, true friends. Nothing anyone could say or do could seem to cheer him up.
The wizarding world fell into the debt of the boy who lived. They saw their hero suffer, and they could find no way to thank him for what he had done for them, or to make him happy, something he had never truly been in his whole life. That is how he came upon the house at Godric's Hollow.
The house used to belong to his parents, but Harry was forced to leave it when his parents were killed by the man who gave Harry his scar. It had long since been abandoned, until one day, as a sort of thank you to Harry, Dumbledore and many of Harry's old professors at Hogwarts had presented Harry the house. It was restored enough for one to live in, but nothing was changed, in hopes that Harry could find some closure in the area of his parents, which he had done some time ago. They had worked for months, placing charms, spells, and enchantments around the house that would protect Harry.
Harry was speechless at the unselfish act and he was very grateful. He had previously been living in a muggle apartment, a muggle job keeping him able to pay the rent, as he wasn't quite ready to proceed into the working class of the wizard world. He never realized it until he was back into the heart of it, but Harry quite disliked the muggle life-style. But, it was far better than dealing with the wizarding world which he wasn't ready to trust. He had spent a year in the muggle world before moving slowly back into the secret world of wizards.
He had become toned and muscular over his years on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but none of that would compare to the strength and muscles he built up living as muggles do. He had to do everything by hand and with his own strength, and it was as if his muscles ate it up like a drug, being deprived of the work for so long. When he moved into Godric's Hollow, he vowed not to let his body go to waste, like he felt the rest of him had. It was something he could control, and he needed as much control as he could.
His first year in Godric's Hollow was a tough one. He had been deprived of the wizarding world for so long that it took him awhile to brush the dust off of his wand and get back into the swing of things. But slowly and surely, part of the old Harry began to escape through his fingertips, and magic became a part of every day life again. Though, he didn't stop with the physical labour.
As years past, Harry grew all too used to life at Godric's. He usually stayed in the comfort of the house, only going out when necessary. He wasn't depressed anymore, he had past that point a long time ago, but now he was just in a kind of trance-like state. He had stopped grooming, more or less. He let his hair grow longer than it usually did, the raven locks covering his eyes and the top half of his ears. He had stopped shaving, but his hair didn't grow much anyway, so he had a bit of a scruffy shadow on his face. He looked worse than he really was, and people were beginning to worry.
As Harry made his way inside, away from the cold that overtook his body so suddenly, he noticed a dark form perched above his door, an eagle owl. He opened the door and let it inside, allowing it to perch next to a sleeping Hedwig. He gave the owl a treat from Hedwig's dish and began to untie the parchment that was tied around it's leg.
hope you enjoyed! chapter two will be on it's way soon. hmmm i wonder who's owl that was.... ponders