Disclaimer: All characters used in this fan fiction definitely belong to JK
Rowling because I am nowhere near that creative!!!!! I am just borrowing
them, no harm intended.
1 Harry Potter and the Year of Confusion
By ArtGirl
Harry Potter lay on his back in the middle of his bed staring at the ceiling. It was really late and when Harry glanced at the clock, which read 2am, he saw just how late it was.
Harry was returning to his school later that morning, around 10am. He would board the Hogwarts Express and be off on a journey to the only place he felt was home, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You see Harry was no ordinary fifteen year-old boy. Harry was a wizard, and not just any wizard mind you. Harry was The Boy Who Lived.
Harry returned to his school each year since his eleventh birthday to be taught and tutored so that one day he would become a fully-grown, licensed wizard. Since finding out about being a wizard that was exactly what Harry was determined to do.
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his bed, which had seemed to grow smaller over the course of the summer and tried his best to go to sleep with no avail. All summer long every time he had tried to sleep he had been haunted by images from the Third Task during his previous school year.
Cedric Diggory, his parents, Volemort, Wormtail, they all played a part in the terrifying dreams that plagued Harry each night. Even when Harry truly wanted to sleep, such as that moment, he couldn't bring himself to do it because somewhere in his subconscious he knew of the images that would haunt him.
As Harry lay on his bed he tried to push the gloomy thoughts of his nightmares out of his head with happier feelings of seeing his friends the next day, but even that brought up some unpleasant ideas in Harry's mind. Thinking of his best friend, Ron, made Harry wonder why Dumbledore had not let Harry spend the Summer at Ron's house, The Burrow, like He had wanted.
Molly Weasley, Ron's mother, had done everything but get down on her hands and knees and beg Dumbledore to allow Harry to spend the summer with the Weasley family, but all of her efforts were in vain because in the end Dumbledore's answer was still no. That puzzled Harry because Dumbledore knew how much he enjoyed spending time with the Weaselys and he also knew that they would never allow Harry to be unprotected, so why wouldn't he let him go?
Harry decided that he had had enough thinking for one night's time because he really needed to get at least a little rest in order to survive the next day, so he rolled over and pushed all of his unpleasant thoughts from his head and finally when the clock near his bed rounded on 3am, Harry drifted off to sleep.
* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning Harry was woken up for the last time until next summer by the shrill, high-pitched voice of his aunt Petunia, "HARRY! Come on and get out of bed you lazy boy! If you don't hurry then we won't take you to the train station!"
With the threat of having no way to return to the only world where he felt he belonged, Harry threw off his covers and jumped out of bed. He was somewhat tired, but he was growing used to getting practically no sleep, and even less food (thanks to the Dursleys), which was apparent due to the dark circles under his eyes and his too skinny body.
Harry had only seen his friends once that summer, when he went to Diagon Alley to buy his school supplies, but that had only been for one day and he had to return to Privet Drive shortly afterwards. His excitement was building in seeing them again, but he quickly pushed it away as he reminded himself that he had no right to be happy.
Harry still blamed himself for the death of Cedric during the TriWirzard Tournament and even though he chose not to show it on the outside, he felt it inside everyday. It gnawed at the back of his mind and during times when Harry actually started to feel happy, which were few and far between, it extinguished his feelings with a reminder that it was in fact his fault.
As Harry began getting ready to leave Privet Drive it occurred to him that he had nothing exciting to tell his friends. He didn't even know what he wanted to say to them. Of course he had many questions about what was going on in the wizarding world due to his very limited contact, but other than that Harry had no idea what to say to them, and they were his best friends!
Harry sighed as he lugged his trunk down the stairs and sat it by the door, placing Hedwig's cage on top of it, Hedwig herself inside it. Harry stared at his trunk as he went over a mental inventory of his stuff, just to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.
When Harry was sure he had everything he made his way into the kitchen where Vernon Dursley sat at the table reading the morning paper across from his son, Dudley Dursley, who was eating his skimpy grapefruit breakfast (he was still on a diet, though it was obviously doing no good as he was still the size of a baby whale). Pertunia was peeking through the window curtains spying on the neighbors that had just moved in across the street.
Harry was just about to sit down in one of the empty chairs at the table when Vernon cleared his throat, "So, boy, I see you finally decided to haul your lazy self out of bed. Are you ready to go?"
"Yes sir," Harry replied dully, not wanting to cause any further delay.
"Good. Well then, I guess were off." Vernon replied as if he couldn't wait a second longer to get rid of Harry, which he probably couldn't.
With that, the Dursley family, plus Harry, got into Vernon;s company car where they proceeded to the train station.
1 Harry Potter and the Year of Confusion
By ArtGirl
Harry Potter lay on his back in the middle of his bed staring at the ceiling. It was really late and when Harry glanced at the clock, which read 2am, he saw just how late it was.
Harry was returning to his school later that morning, around 10am. He would board the Hogwarts Express and be off on a journey to the only place he felt was home, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You see Harry was no ordinary fifteen year-old boy. Harry was a wizard, and not just any wizard mind you. Harry was The Boy Who Lived.
Harry returned to his school each year since his eleventh birthday to be taught and tutored so that one day he would become a fully-grown, licensed wizard. Since finding out about being a wizard that was exactly what Harry was determined to do.
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his bed, which had seemed to grow smaller over the course of the summer and tried his best to go to sleep with no avail. All summer long every time he had tried to sleep he had been haunted by images from the Third Task during his previous school year.
Cedric Diggory, his parents, Volemort, Wormtail, they all played a part in the terrifying dreams that plagued Harry each night. Even when Harry truly wanted to sleep, such as that moment, he couldn't bring himself to do it because somewhere in his subconscious he knew of the images that would haunt him.
As Harry lay on his bed he tried to push the gloomy thoughts of his nightmares out of his head with happier feelings of seeing his friends the next day, but even that brought up some unpleasant ideas in Harry's mind. Thinking of his best friend, Ron, made Harry wonder why Dumbledore had not let Harry spend the Summer at Ron's house, The Burrow, like He had wanted.
Molly Weasley, Ron's mother, had done everything but get down on her hands and knees and beg Dumbledore to allow Harry to spend the summer with the Weasley family, but all of her efforts were in vain because in the end Dumbledore's answer was still no. That puzzled Harry because Dumbledore knew how much he enjoyed spending time with the Weaselys and he also knew that they would never allow Harry to be unprotected, so why wouldn't he let him go?
Harry decided that he had had enough thinking for one night's time because he really needed to get at least a little rest in order to survive the next day, so he rolled over and pushed all of his unpleasant thoughts from his head and finally when the clock near his bed rounded on 3am, Harry drifted off to sleep.
* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning Harry was woken up for the last time until next summer by the shrill, high-pitched voice of his aunt Petunia, "HARRY! Come on and get out of bed you lazy boy! If you don't hurry then we won't take you to the train station!"
With the threat of having no way to return to the only world where he felt he belonged, Harry threw off his covers and jumped out of bed. He was somewhat tired, but he was growing used to getting practically no sleep, and even less food (thanks to the Dursleys), which was apparent due to the dark circles under his eyes and his too skinny body.
Harry had only seen his friends once that summer, when he went to Diagon Alley to buy his school supplies, but that had only been for one day and he had to return to Privet Drive shortly afterwards. His excitement was building in seeing them again, but he quickly pushed it away as he reminded himself that he had no right to be happy.
Harry still blamed himself for the death of Cedric during the TriWirzard Tournament and even though he chose not to show it on the outside, he felt it inside everyday. It gnawed at the back of his mind and during times when Harry actually started to feel happy, which were few and far between, it extinguished his feelings with a reminder that it was in fact his fault.
As Harry began getting ready to leave Privet Drive it occurred to him that he had nothing exciting to tell his friends. He didn't even know what he wanted to say to them. Of course he had many questions about what was going on in the wizarding world due to his very limited contact, but other than that Harry had no idea what to say to them, and they were his best friends!
Harry sighed as he lugged his trunk down the stairs and sat it by the door, placing Hedwig's cage on top of it, Hedwig herself inside it. Harry stared at his trunk as he went over a mental inventory of his stuff, just to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.
When Harry was sure he had everything he made his way into the kitchen where Vernon Dursley sat at the table reading the morning paper across from his son, Dudley Dursley, who was eating his skimpy grapefruit breakfast (he was still on a diet, though it was obviously doing no good as he was still the size of a baby whale). Pertunia was peeking through the window curtains spying on the neighbors that had just moved in across the street.
Harry was just about to sit down in one of the empty chairs at the table when Vernon cleared his throat, "So, boy, I see you finally decided to haul your lazy self out of bed. Are you ready to go?"
"Yes sir," Harry replied dully, not wanting to cause any further delay.
"Good. Well then, I guess were off." Vernon replied as if he couldn't wait a second longer to get rid of Harry, which he probably couldn't.
With that, the Dursley family, plus Harry, got into Vernon;s company car where they proceeded to the train station.