Does blood matter?

by elize-quill

Harry knew his name from an early age, heck! the whole wizarding world knows his name. But do they know the truth? When Harry finds the truth of who he is it raises a few questions. Does blood matter when it comes to anything, and how did this happen to the boy who lived. (contains harry snape fanfiction adult themes and dumbledore bashing and ron being full of bulls*)

2. Chapter 1 an odd letter

Chapter - 1 an odd letter

As the hot July sun hit the pavement of little whinging surrey, a scrawny boy walked down the street. His sleek fluffy har bouncing with each step he took. He wore oversized clothes of his cousins. wearing round gold glasses out of a lost and found box helping somewhat for his big round dark emerald green eyes to see. only Clocking in at 60 pounds he had just arrived in front of number four privet drive.

He walked up the steps opened the door then stepped inside. He turned to the living room, his uncle Vernon watching the news, some of which Harry Potter was intrigued by. His aunt Petunia cleaning her already spotless kitchen muttering under her breath of how 'dirty the house was'.

Over the years Harry was able to hide in the shadows. It was easy to make himself disappear and so he did just that and hid in his cupboard. He grabbed a book he stole from Dudley's second room and began reading. The book was named the 'outlander'.

He read about 100 pages before Dudley opened the front door and slammed it making some of the dust fall on his face, bed and book. This was a normal occurrence in the Dursley household. Harry shook his head of dust and ran his hands in his hair, greasy again well there is nothing he could do about it.

Dudley opened the cupboard. "HEY FREAK" he spat at Harry's face "CLEAN MY ROOM". He sighs, puts down his book and cleaned Dudley's room all the while getting beat and slapped. When he was done he cooked supper to perfection and went to bed.

The next morning was the same as any other day. Harry cooking breakfast, Dudley complaining to his parents, them obliging to the spoiled pig, Harry's birthday again ignored you know normal.

Harry walked in the hallway and got the mail. He looked through it, a bill, bill another bill a letter, wait a letter. Harry could not believe his eyes, a letter for him written in green ink. Though his last name was written over a scratched out name not legible to read. As he walked back to the kitchen, he through the letter in his cupboard and gave the bills to his uncle. Once he was free from chores he read his letter.