Harry Potter and the Curse of the Zodiac
centerHey this is sugar- This is my very first fan fic and I am super nervous. I've read a lot of HP FF, but I've been working out the ideas for the story and I really want to try it. Please leave your comments and suggestions because I really want to make this a good story. Also you're going to have to be patient with it. The real action doesn't begin until Harry gets to hogwarts. Hope you like ^.~
It was a particularly silent that at number 4 privet drive. Harry potter peered out his bedroom window. He gripped the sill tightly, squinting into the darkness. To his dismay, the windless night reveled nothing to him. He hadn't seen his owl hedwig in nearly two weeks. Hr supposed hedwig could be collecting birthday greetings, for it was his 15ht birthday in only two days. br Summer at privet drive, with Harry's only living relatives, the dursleys, was just as dull as always. But Harry was, of course, expecting it. Life with muggles like the dursleys was down right horrid. They hated everything about Harry, and did nothing to hide it.br The reason that they loathed Harry so, was because he was so unlike the dursleys. Harry was a wizard, more than halfway down with his wizarding school. This would be the fifth year that the dursleys would claim that he was going to a correctional institute, and pray that no one found out their dark secret; that they had been harboring a wizard. Harry heaved a deep sigh, with one last look out the window, he went back to his bed, layed down, and stared up at the ceiling. He had hoped he could stay with Ron again this summer. Last summer Ron and Harry went the Quidditch world cup, and then the death eaters. Harry stopped abruptly, casting that thought from his head. He had promised himself again and again that he wouldn't try to think about what had happened last year. Do this year Harry's headmaster said it would be best if Harry stayed with the dursleys, to start of the summer. Well it was almost August; surely he could go visit Ron now? He would have written to Ron two weeks ago, the only thing stopping him was he didn't have an owl. So until hedwig got back he was stuck here. How longer would he have to spend here, spending almost his whole day locked in his room? A soft breeze ruffled Harry's hair. Harry glanced at the clock it was three in the morning, and was just beginning to feel a tiniest bit tired. A sudden gust of air blew in the room and the old cracked vase on Dudley's shelf of broken toys toppled over. With a heart-stopping shatter it smashed upon the ground and Harry sat bolt upright. He listened keenly, but no one seemed to be stirring in the other rooms. Heart pounding loudly, Harry got up to look the ruined vase. If only he was allowed to magic it back together, his aunt petunia might not explode with rage, he thought vaguely.
The hairs on the back of his necked were standing straight up. With a side ways look, he glanced at the open window. To his horror, another strong breeze nearly made him topple over. Regaining his balance and standing upright, he took a step toward it. He cautiously looked down at it, as if expecting it to explode. A thought rang through his head. Since last night's thunderstorm there hadn't been a breeze all day. Another gust of air, he thought he heard a strange flapping noise. His eyes widened. Someone was out there; he felt their presence now. With sudden adrenalin rushing though his blood he bounded across the room to his hogwarts chest. Digging under his cloaks and books he uprooted his wand and his broomstick. Without giving it a second thought, he leaped out his window. He forgot he was only two stories up. He didn't have far to fall. But what he planned on was using his flying broomstick for resistance. Swinging it under him he clutched on, and shooted up, five feet from the ground. Wiping the perspiration off his face, his eyes darted around for an intruder while gliding around just 8 feet from the ground. His broomstick gave a sudden lurch. Shaken, he stopped in midair. The broomstick seemed fine. Perhaps not riding it for a year, except for a few brief instances, had made him rusty. He continued on, pulling out his wand and muttering "lumos", in a soft whisper. Light shown out from the wand and he was able to see aunt petunias bushes clearly. He circled again; he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. Without warning his broomstick suddenly streaked forward, throwing him into the side of the house. He hit it so hard he slid off, with a loud, THUMP, hit the ground. Moaning with pain, he grabbed his broomstick out of midair. Unluckily for him, the aluminum siding had a dent looking as if a golf ball at been thrown at it. How would he explain this to the dursleys? A light from inside Mr. Dursleys' room flicked on. Heart pounding, Harry mounted the broom and flew straight up to his room. Landing as lightly as possible he threw his wand and broom back into his trunk, and threw himself into the bed. He listened. There was the unmistakable barking of Mr. Dursley "what in the hell was all that racket?!?". Then there was the distinct sound of a bush shuddering.
centerHey this is sugar- This is my very first fan fic and I am super nervous. I've read a lot of HP FF, but I've been working out the ideas for the story and I really want to try it. Please leave your comments and suggestions because I really want to make this a good story. Also you're going to have to be patient with it. The real action doesn't begin until Harry gets to hogwarts. Hope you like ^.~
It was a particularly silent that at number 4 privet drive. Harry potter peered out his bedroom window. He gripped the sill tightly, squinting into the darkness. To his dismay, the windless night reveled nothing to him. He hadn't seen his owl hedwig in nearly two weeks. Hr supposed hedwig could be collecting birthday greetings, for it was his 15ht birthday in only two days. br Summer at privet drive, with Harry's only living relatives, the dursleys, was just as dull as always. But Harry was, of course, expecting it. Life with muggles like the dursleys was down right horrid. They hated everything about Harry, and did nothing to hide it.br The reason that they loathed Harry so, was because he was so unlike the dursleys. Harry was a wizard, more than halfway down with his wizarding school. This would be the fifth year that the dursleys would claim that he was going to a correctional institute, and pray that no one found out their dark secret; that they had been harboring a wizard. Harry heaved a deep sigh, with one last look out the window, he went back to his bed, layed down, and stared up at the ceiling. He had hoped he could stay with Ron again this summer. Last summer Ron and Harry went the Quidditch world cup, and then the death eaters. Harry stopped abruptly, casting that thought from his head. He had promised himself again and again that he wouldn't try to think about what had happened last year. Do this year Harry's headmaster said it would be best if Harry stayed with the dursleys, to start of the summer. Well it was almost August; surely he could go visit Ron now? He would have written to Ron two weeks ago, the only thing stopping him was he didn't have an owl. So until hedwig got back he was stuck here. How longer would he have to spend here, spending almost his whole day locked in his room? A soft breeze ruffled Harry's hair. Harry glanced at the clock it was three in the morning, and was just beginning to feel a tiniest bit tired. A sudden gust of air blew in the room and the old cracked vase on Dudley's shelf of broken toys toppled over. With a heart-stopping shatter it smashed upon the ground and Harry sat bolt upright. He listened keenly, but no one seemed to be stirring in the other rooms. Heart pounding loudly, Harry got up to look the ruined vase. If only he was allowed to magic it back together, his aunt petunia might not explode with rage, he thought vaguely.
The hairs on the back of his necked were standing straight up. With a side ways look, he glanced at the open window. To his horror, another strong breeze nearly made him topple over. Regaining his balance and standing upright, he took a step toward it. He cautiously looked down at it, as if expecting it to explode. A thought rang through his head. Since last night's thunderstorm there hadn't been a breeze all day. Another gust of air, he thought he heard a strange flapping noise. His eyes widened. Someone was out there; he felt their presence now. With sudden adrenalin rushing though his blood he bounded across the room to his hogwarts chest. Digging under his cloaks and books he uprooted his wand and his broomstick. Without giving it a second thought, he leaped out his window. He forgot he was only two stories up. He didn't have far to fall. But what he planned on was using his flying broomstick for resistance. Swinging it under him he clutched on, and shooted up, five feet from the ground. Wiping the perspiration off his face, his eyes darted around for an intruder while gliding around just 8 feet from the ground. His broomstick gave a sudden lurch. Shaken, he stopped in midair. The broomstick seemed fine. Perhaps not riding it for a year, except for a few brief instances, had made him rusty. He continued on, pulling out his wand and muttering "lumos", in a soft whisper. Light shown out from the wand and he was able to see aunt petunias bushes clearly. He circled again; he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. Without warning his broomstick suddenly streaked forward, throwing him into the side of the house. He hit it so hard he slid off, with a loud, THUMP, hit the ground. Moaning with pain, he grabbed his broomstick out of midair. Unluckily for him, the aluminum siding had a dent looking as if a golf ball at been thrown at it. How would he explain this to the dursleys? A light from inside Mr. Dursleys' room flicked on. Heart pounding, Harry mounted the broom and flew straight up to his room. Landing as lightly as possible he threw his wand and broom back into his trunk, and threw himself into the bed. He listened. There was the unmistakable barking of Mr. Dursley "what in the hell was all that racket?!?". Then there was the distinct sound of a bush shuddering.