CHAPTER 1
~The Dream~
"No, please don't take Harry, please!" A woman with emerald green eyes pleaded to Lord Voldemort. "Have mercy, have mercy…" She wept and wept and still she could hear her husband yelling out to her.
"Lily! Run! Take Harry with you! I'll take care of Voldemort!" The man's eyes were full of fear but he was lucidly determined. Lily obeyed him, a baby boy held tightly in her shaking arms.
All of a sudden, a different man yelled, with a high pitched voice, "Avada Kedavra!" Violent, green light filled the air and more screams were heard. Instantly, the green light vanished and the woman, along with the man, were lying on the ground, a look of terror upon their face. Nobody blinked nor moved as somebody had just performed the killing curse. Everybody, even Muggles were dead. Everybody except the young baby boy…
"No, no, NO, NOOOOO!"
Harry Potter woke up with a start to find himself covered with sweat. He wiped his face with his arm and took a deep breath. He had had just about enough of hearing his parents' death. Almost every single day he spent at the Dursley's were horrible, and having dreams about his dead mother and father didn't make it any better.
He had spent all of his fourteen years at the Dursley's house. But only four of it was spent at his school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You see, Harry is no ordinary boy. In fact, despite his looks, he was very different from the other teenagers. This is because Harry Potter happens to be a wizard.
Harry got up from his bed and sauntered to his window. He opened it and felt the comforting breeze take over his body. Then he looked at the vacant bird cage beside him. Once again, Hedwig, his snowy owl, had gone hunting for dead mice. He hoped that she would come back soon, she was the only creature under this roof that liked him.
If only my parents didn't die, Harry thought sadly as he continued to gaze out the window. I'd still be living with them in the wizarding world. Harry's parents were murdered by the most powerful dark sorcerer, Lord Voldemort. Harry had only been a year old then but when Voldemort turned to kill Harry, he miraculously survived with nothing but the special, lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
The Dursleys hated Harry. Their, son Dudley (Harry's cousin), tried to make fun of Harry every time he gets the chance. Uncle Vernon, meanwhile, always found something awful about Harry and would start yelling at him about it for the rest of the day. Aunt Petunia, satisfied herself with just glaring at him. She usually spent her day craning her long neck to see what Mrs What's-her-name was up to or whether Mr What's-his-face and his wife had divorced yet.
Harry's mind came back to the spectacle outside his window. He could barely make out the flying shape of an owl…in fact, it was Hedwig, and sure enough, there was dead mice hanging from her beak. Harry stroked her white feathers absent-mindedly while he checked his clock radio. It was three a.m. He hadn't even realised it but he had been officially fifteen years old for three hours. This made him feel jovial but what he saw next was what made him ecstatic.
Four birds were heading straight for his window. One of them was a large, brown barn owl. Another was a rainbow coloured bird. The other one looked similar to Hedwig and the last one was a small, rather bouncy owl. He recognised it straight away.
"Ron," he said quietly. This little, bouncy owl belonged to his best friend, Ron Weasley. It had been given to Ron by Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, a couple of years ago. He noticed that Pigwedgion (the owl) had a letter and a small parcel strapped to its tiny leg. Harry took the letter and the parcel off its fidgety feet with great difficulty and tore open the letter:
Harry-Happy Birthday! I hope Pig got there, he seemed so happy when he found out that he was going to deliver another letter. Well, holidays have been really boring lately, maybe I could invite you over here again…dad wants to have an excuse to use the fellytone…u know how he is with Muggle [non-magic people] stuff—crazy. Well, have you heard from Sirius yet? Tell me if you have.
I hope you like your present and I hope that the Muggles are treating you right. See you at school (or maybe sooner!)
I'll call you to see if you can come over ok?
-Ron
Harry smiled to himself as the thought of spending the rest of his summer holidays with the Weasleys striked him. The Weasley family were poor, but yet, they were the nicest wizard family he had ever met. He opened his present to find that Ron had given him a whole bundle of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and a box of Chocolate Frogs. He opened the Flavour Beans hungrily and picked up a green jelly bean. Reluctantly, he popped it into his mouth and spat it out quickly. It turned out that the flavour was Grass. As the packet says, EVERY FLAVOUR BEANS. And as a matter of fact, you do get every flavour you can imagine, including chocolate, lime, earwax, pepper, salt, dirt and orange.
He untied the letter that was hanging from the barn owl. He saw the untidy scrawl and he knew that Hagrid had sent him something for his birthday too:
Dear Harry,
Happy 15th birthday! Can't wait to see you, Hermione and Ron back here again. I've been preparing for our Care of Magical Creatures class. It's gonna be fun this year!
Well, I hope you like your present and see you here soon!
~Hagrid
Once again, he opened a package and from it came out a round glass ball. He recognised it at once. It was a Remembrall. When you failed to remember something, it was supposed to glow bright red until you got what you were missing. Neville Longbottom, one of Harry's classmates, was sent a Remembrall by his grandmother. It was very fortunate too. Neville was known for forgetting things all the time and was mocked by the Slytherins every time he forgot to bring something to class.
He wrenched open the letter that had been tied around the rainbow coloured bird and read it. It was sent by his godfather, Sirius:
Harry-
Happy birthday! I still can't tell you where I am just in case this letter gets intercepted. Everything's going well, Buckbeak and I are very well hidden from the Ministry and the Dementors. We're moving almost every three days…I'm going to let a Muggle get a glimpse of me soon then I'll run again…just to lead the Ministry the wrong way. Anyway, take care of yourself and always keep your eyes and ears open for anything unusual. Don't let the Muggles get you down. -Sirius
Harry knew that his godfather was still on the run from the Ministry. Fourteen years ago, Sirius had been put in Azkaban (the wizard prison) for a crime which he did not commit—killing a street full of witches, wizards and Muggles. They met two years ago where they caught Peter Pettigrew, the real person who had killed those people. For a good few minutes, Harry thought that he would be living with his godfather once his name was cleared. Unluckily enough, Pettigrew escaped and Sirius had to run for his life.
Harry opened his present to find a leather bound book entitled in gold lettering: Quidditch Myths and Facts. He hid the handsome book under a loose floorboard because he knew that if one of the Dursleys discovered the book, they would tear it to shreds and toss it in the fireplace so that Harry may never see it again.
He opened the last letter which was from his other best friend, Hermione:
Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday!!! Mum and dad were a bit mad when they found out that I reduced my two front teeth with magic, but they soon got over it. They finally thought that saving a bit of money was good. I hope you're coming over to Ron's for the holidays…then we could all meet up in Diagon Alley to buy all our school books. I wonder who's our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this time? Hope it's not Snape…it's bad enough having him for Potions…
Well, I better go, I hope you enjoy your present (I made it!)!
Love,
Hermione
Harry unwrapped his present and looked at the magnificent cake Hermione had sent him. It was covered with lime green icing and a few blue clouds with some things that looked like broomsticks. Harry grinned contentedly and suddenly realised that his eyes were starting to droop. He lied down on his bed again and thought no more…
