Disclaimer: SORRY! I completely forgot to add that I totally do not own the HP series. J.K Rowling does. I am looking into inventing a time machine so I can go back and write it first. :0 ;) 3
Chapter Two
Deciding to worry later, harry looked at his alarm clock again to note that it was already 7:00am. 'Time to start breakfast,' He thought bitterly. He concentrated on the parts of his body that suffered the most damage; actually that is all damage other than bruises. Slowly and wandless he healed his broken bones, his mild concussion, as well as his sprained ankle.
He knew that he heal himself without the Ministry arresting him for underage magic, since wandless magic is untraced. If he healed the bruises, then uncle Vernon would know for sure that he has used magic, which would end up making the effort completely useless. Uncle Vernon might tolerate it, but having to see it sometimes, especially so early in the morning, makes him want to 'undo' it.
With his body no longer feeling as if he was thrown off a mountain, only being a bit sore due to the remaining bruises, he carefully and slowly got to his feet and walked to his bedroom door. His relatives thankfully listened to the order a little bit; they decided that they wouldn't lock him in every day. They would only do it when he was 'bad'. Which to them was often, and last night just happened to be a night that he was 'bad', so he had to unlock the door with more wandless magic. If he were a normal wizard, all this wandless magic would have drained him dry of energy and magic. He opened the door and set off, as ready as he'll ever be to start his day.
"Boy, you better have not burned anything!" Uncle Vernon hissed.
"No, sir." He said, nodding respectfully, trying hard to hide his blatant disgust at having to watch the walrus called Vernon Dursley practically mauling a meal that could fully feed a family of four and still have leftovers. He had made a dozen sunny sides up eggs for Dudley and Vernon each. Aunt petunia ate her usual breakfast; a low-fat yogurt, half a grapefruit, and a cup of coffee.
He was standing by the sink, forced to watch them eat the food he made while not being allowed to eat himself, waiting to receive his chore list. This is the way Harrys' day continues. He did his chores so well even Uncle Vernon couldn't find something to punish him for. Later, as he sat in his dusty old bedroom, he wondered yet again; why did this happen? Why did he have this life? He answered himself the same as he does every time his mind wanders to these questions.
'Dumbledore did this. It is his entire fault! He knew that Sirius was innocent. He could have demanded a trial! After all, he is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. If he did that, Harry could have been living with Sirius all these years. It is too late now. Sirius is dead.' He thought with venom at first, but ended with sad indifference.
Harry knew most would think that he should still be grieving Sirius. He should cry at the mere mention of him, in his thoughts or otherwise, and in the beginning of the summer he would have. Sirius was his godfather, after all, but Harry barley knew the man. It took him two weeks of morning and being downright miserable to realize this. While he misses him dearly, because the time he did spend with Sirius made him very fond towards him, he knew that he would have to get over it. He probably wouldn't survive the summer, let alone 6th year, if he was knee-deep in misery. That would make him unfocused and when Harry is unfocused he's likely to mess up, and if he messes up he get 'punished'.
Harry saw that it was now 11:59pm. One minute until his birthday. As Harry does every year, he starts to count down to midnight.
…10
…9
He was very anxious and excited for his birthday this year. He was turning 16 and that means he's going to be an adult in the wizarding world, which means he can leave the Dursley's.
…8
…7
…6
Why is his body burning? He hasn't had a beating today and he was healed from the last beating. Slowly Harry's body started to glow brightly with increasing intensity and the fire burning in his veins started to spread. When the fire reached his shoulders and back Harry groaned and turned as best as he could onto his stomach in hope to relieve the pressure that seemed to be building there.
…5
…4
…3
Harry could feel his body stretching as he grew.
…2
He has never felt as helpless and vulnerable as he did now, when his hearing and sight slowly retreated.
…1
At midnight, Harry potter lost all consciousness.