Hey everyone! This is my first attempt at a story! It has not been fully edited and km sure will have quite a few errors. Give me a shot and leave reviews with your suggestions!
The weather had been unusually hot that July but today had been cloudy. It seemed to make the sweltering heat wrap around your body like a coat. A teenager sat in the garden outside of the house at Number 4 enjoying the fresh cool of the rain that had appeared in the midst of the otherwise boiling summer.
"BOY!" A sudden shrill voice screeched.
"Yes Aunt Petunia?" The teen queried.
"Get in house before you're soaked. I don't want you making a mess of my house with the mud you'll drag in!"
"Coming Aunt Petunia."
The slim figure stood from his seat on the ground and trudged into the house that matched all the others around it. He made his way through the kitchen and up the stairs silently so as to not disturb the other members of the house. At the top of the stairs in the smallest bedroom with locks on the door, he paused with a brief look back down the stairs before turning and walking into the bedroom. There was a loud thumping as the large body of his uncle made its way up the stairs. His door suddenly swung open and the slightly blushed face of his uncle stared at him.
"There will not be a single peep out of you boy or you'll regret it!" The robust man spit hatefully at him.
"Yes Uncle Vernon."
"I mean it boy, any funny business and you can kiss that school of yours goodbye!"
"Yes Uncle Vernon." Came the quiet reply.
The door slammed behind the man and the sound of locks clicking shut echoed before the steps retreated back down the stairs. That night his uncle was having his boss over for dinner. Once again, or rather as usual, he was forbidden from attending and locked in his room. He was rather thankful it was his room now instead of being locked away in the cupboard under the stairs. After the last time he had had a small growth spurt it had become cramped under there. It didn't replace the small spiders that had kept him company in the cramped space, but it was nice to have room to move.
Harry settled himself on his bed and looked longingly at the cage of his beloved owl Hedwig. He was happy he had sent her to The Burrow for the summer. He only had a few more days until he would be able to join her there. It would be his 15th birthday soon and he couldn't wait to enjoy the cake was sure to bake for him.
He suspected Sirius would surprise him with some sort of wild party. He was desperately ready to see his godfather and his friends. In reality he was really ready to be back with people who loved and cared about him. Anything was an improvement over the way his relatives treated him.
They acted as though he had a disease. Or some other equally "vile" problem that could potentially destroy their reputation as "flawless" perfect citizens. Harry didn't mind so much the treatment which rivaled that of a Malfoy house elf. However he hated the way his cousin stared at him. It made him feel disgusting and weird.
His cousin had always done rather strange things. When they were younger, Dudley and his friends had invented a game they called "Harry Hunting" in which they would chase Harry and then beat him up when they found him. This continued of course even now into teenage years but the beatings were worse and usually left him sore much longer.
It was marvelous really that the Dursley's hadn't managed to be found out in their maltreatment of him with the way Dudley had acted, but when he was younger they had brushed it off that he was clumsy or did it to himself for attention. Their negative words had scared any teachers away from listening. After the beatings his uncle would give him for even hinting at anything along the lines of abuse Harry had learned to avoid speaking about it. Dudley had made sure that any of their peers avoided him and his "freakishness."
The splatter of the rain against the window pane was a steady pat-a-pat and so he laid his head down on his pillow. He decided he was going to think since he couldn't exactly write to any of his friends. Not that they would answer him anyway. Most of his letters he had sent returned unopened or not at all. It seemed like his friends were avoiding him but he wasn't quite sure why. He exhaled a long suffering sigh and removed his glasses. He placed them on the bed and closed his eyes to concentrate.
His stomach rumbled softly and he sighed again. He had been given a banana for breakfast yesterday but nothing since. He was hungry again but as it was unlikely he would be fed again until the next evening at the latest he grit his teeth against the slight uncomfortable pangs.
Letting his mind wander to other things he related back into his pillow. Voldemort had been quiet in the past few months. There hadn't been any of the Prophet to read but he suspected that it was full of rumors about what the mad man was up to. If anything at all. The last he had read himself and Dumbledore were being mocked and accused of lying. Not that it was anything new. The wizarding world was great at slandering him one moment and praising him the next. It was mind boggling really. Rita Skeeter was full of fantasies with her stories.
His dreams hadn't been plagued by nightmares. His scar hadn't been hurting either. It made him wonder what the monster who murdered his parents was up to. Certain that he would get no answer to the questions wandering his mind that night, he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.
Ok everyone! Ive got several other chapters written so far. Please give me a review and tell me what you think!