Hi everyone! Well, this is a first fanfic for me and it's going to be a biggy (is also going to be finished- it annoys me to distraction when people don't finish stories!). Couple of things first:
1. Sirius is dead. End of story. Full stop. He is not going to 'magically' return from the dead (no matter how mch magic there is in this story), he is not going to suddenly have a ghost, he is not going ot climb out of the death veil. Sorry for all those die-hard Sirius fans out there, but seriously guys, he's dead and nothing you do will bring him back.
2. Dumbledore is also dead (see above)
3. This is labelled as Humour/Romance, but there will be some action too, in case anyone was worried...
4. I like Charlie. He's a dude. So he'll be in here a bit too coz he is a bit rejected in the real books
Disclaimer: I could claim to own Europe... I could claim to own Microsoft, I could claim to own this... quite frankly, if you believe me, I worry about you, I really do...
The residents of Privet Drive had always prided themselves on being normal; Normal homes, normal people, and normal problems. The residents of number four Privet Drive prided themselves on this more than most of these overtly normal people. That is why the surrounding community would be surprised to know that the Dursley household was the least normal on Privet Drive.
This summer had started differently than the last few summers because 'that boy' was home early, two weeks early to be precise. And, like all things different, this caused many rumors and ideas to fly from one end of Privet Drive to the other and back again with alarming speed. However, what really got people's attention was that he was not alone. Much to the horror of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, he brought friends.
The initial disgust, horror, shock and most other unpleasant feelings possible of normal people like these, prompted a large, loud and ever so slightly embarrassing argument on the very steps of Number 4. . Of course Ron didn't care and forced his way in at wand point. Hermione for her part looked more upset at the insult than the rest of it, and that was where things started going downhill fast. The fact that Vernon also commented on the "Old freakish man named Dumble-something" being dead and his family being glad there was one less unnatural freak in the world didn't help.
Yeah, that was entertaining. The smartest witch to set foot in Hogwarts in centuries versus one overly large muggle quickly turned into the best lightshow in town. Add in Ron, who apparently did learn a few tricks from his older brothers Fred and George, and Harry had a new favorite memory. Good enough for a Patronus, he'd bet.
This, naturally, did not put a stopper in the bottle of local rumours (news of a summer fireworks party gone wrong had reached the ears of many, thanks to a couple of very careful memory charms by Hermione and an ever so slightly disastrous one by Ron which culminated in a very messy scene involving 3 extra limbs) and an unnatural number of neighbours were spotted walking past this particular house, up to seventeen times per day (at the last count), trying to get any more morsels of gossip to add some interest to their very (very very very very) boringly normal lives.
Unlike the Dursley's, who were horrified at the rumors now flying around, this boy couldn't have cared less about all the commotion he and his friends had caused. You see, this person was Harry Potter, and in just over a month he would be considered an adult wizard. His friends were also magical, Ron Weasley a wizard like Harry, and Hermione Granger a witch. Since arriving, the three simply stayed at number four. To put it simply, Harry's friends moved in with him, his aunt and uncle, and when Smeltings let out for the summer, his walrus of a cousin Dudley.
Two weeks after his arrival, Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, 'The Chosen One', whatever you want to call him, stood looking out the window of his bedroom. On his bedside table an alarm clock blinked 2:13 a.m. while his friend Ron slept snoring on a transfigured bed against the wall. Across the hall in the guest room Hermione slept with the door closed. Harry for his part wasn't surprised his friends had demanded to join him here; in fact he had expected it for some reason. It was actually the fact that both sets of parents had allowed it that did surprise him. Though given that both Ron and Hermione were seventeen and considered adults, they technically couldn't be stopped once they had made their decision (and both were so aggravatingly stubborn that Harry couldn't persuade them otherwise, no matter how hard he endeavoured to do so).
. Glancing at a picture next to his clock Harry reached down and picked it up. The picture, a moving wizarding photo, was of him, his two best friends and his girlfriend Ginny. No, not girlfriend; he had broken it off at Dumbledore's funeral.
The picture had been taken before all that, and had all four laughing and enjoying a beautiful late spring afternoon. Ron and Hermione seemed to be glaring at each other because of some argument earlier, while Ginny waved. Harry stood right beside her with his arm wrapped around her waist.
Harry shook his head to try and clear the tears wanting to form. Aside from Sirius and Dumbledore, she was the person he missed most having left Hogwarts a fortnight ago. He had only wanted to keep her safe, but the price he was paying was tearing him up inside.
At the funeral, she had said that she had expected it of him, not that it made anything any easier. When they had parted at Kings Cross, the goodbye was as short and simple as possible. Harry hated himself for doing it. If he'd had any other choice he would have taken it. But he didn't. He was having to say this to himself everyday. 'I had no choice.' 'But now she is safe, much safer than she would be if she was with me.'
He glanced at his clock; it now read 2:30. He picked up the one other thing on his bedside table; a small, golden locket. It felt cold and smooth against his fingers. This locket was responsible for the death of Dumbledore. For at the end of the last term, Dumbledore had allowed Harry to go with him on a mission, to destroy one seventh of Lord Voldemort's Soul. This locket was supposed to have a portion of his spirit harbored within it. It however did not. This was a fake, put in place by one R.A.B., who had taken the real one.
Harry only kept this to remind himself of his task, to destroy Voldemort and rid the wizarding and muggle world alike, of his terror.
"Two down we know of, one that may or may not be and three yet to go before Voldemort can be killed. One might be a cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff, another we no idea about but think might have belonged to one of the founders, and then Voldemort's familiar Nagini. Four Horcruxes to find and destroy and the only clue we have is that someone initialed R.A.B. was also looking for them."
He looked at his red haired friend asleep, not troubled by the pictures swarming through Harry's mind.
'I will not do this because of fate, or any prophesy, nor will I do it because I have a scar on my head. I will do it because I choose to.'
He remembered something that Dumbledore had once told him, what seemed an age ago, "It is our choices that make us who we are."
Please review guys!