Well, for everyone who bothered to click on this story, THANKYOU LOTS!!!
Read, and if you like, review, even with the slowest computer it doesn't
take too long. I'm gonna try to actually write this story all the way
through, unlike my others, I've got tons of Ideas for it.
Warning: This story has implied slash, or shounen ai (boy love) this means it has m/m relationships, but nothing but kissing, hugging, and cuddling, I don't know enough about homosexual relation ships to write anything else. If this squeaks you, then don't read it, and don't you dare flame my story!!
'Harry Potter, the Boy who lived', Harry laughed ironically to himself at the thought, If the life he was living now was how the rest of his life was going to be he really didn't want to live it anymore. The people who used to bow to him on the street's only thought of him as a hero to be praised, only a symbol of victory. Now after his involvement with the Goblet of Fire the street bowers hurried away at the sight of him.
One rumor, one word could change the way everyone thought of him. Changing false love to suspicion and hate.
Dumbledore was not any better. Sure the headmaster was wise, over a hundred years of living will make anyone wise with knowledge. But even Harry (the supposed perfect Gryffindor) could see that the man harbored a major prejudice against Slytherins and any house the wasn't Gryffindor. In his first year Dumbledore gave Gryffindors points for being brave, did Slytherins get points for being sly? Of coarse not!! Did Ravenclaws get points for being smart?? No!! Did Hufflepuffs get points for being hard working?? I think you know the answer.
Every Year Harry had to go to his Aunts and Uncle's house for the summer, and year after year Harry complained about it. The letter sent to his house when he was 11 proved that someone actually knew Harry was living in a cupboard, but they didn't even care. As long as Harry, perfect Harry, was alive to be a perfect little sign of goodness no one gave a damm.
Ron and Hermione were nice, but they couldn't talk about meaningless polite topics for the rest of their lives. Quiditch is a great sport and all, but Ron still couldn't even say Voldies name. Hermione was afraid Harry would get hysterical if she brought up the subject of dark wizards rising, and Ron was too afraid. Harry thought that Ron would be rather like the street bowers if he didn't know Harry personally.
Harry had known from the first day of summer break that this summer would be the same as all the others.
His uncle had grimaced at the sight of him, as if he thought Harry had finally died during the school year and not told anyone. Without saying a word Harry had followed him to the car and rode to number 4 private drive. They had locked his trunk away and shoved him in the bedroom.
Now, two months into the summer Harry was locked in his bedroom, lying on his bed with a huge fist sized bruise on his stomach and a slightly smaller one on his arm. How he loved the summer time.
Every summer it was the same. Harry gets to be the slave, and if Harry ever fights back, Harry gets punished. A few bruises here and there where no one could see them, that was all.
Harry sighed. Lying on your back in an empty room is not fun. In fact to Harry it was just plain and simple boredom. His birthday had come and past. He got a few useless presents from his friends along with a really cool essay-writing pen (not in stores) from Sirius. This year Harry had not complained about starving as he had for the last, so no cakes or other food came for him. As far as he knew he was getting almost the right amount of food, stealing from the kitchen was very easy to do while cooking.
Harry decided that pacing for a while before Petunia shrieked for him would be wasting his rest time, so instead he pulled out the homework that he had hid away to do during the summer and started working on it. Surprisingly enough Harry found that he was enjoying potions a lot more then the year before, it really was amazing how ingredients fit together to make the perfect concoction.
Right in the middle of a sentence came the shriek.
"Harrrrryyyyyy, get you're lazy but downstairs right now!!! How can you expect me to clean up your every mess???"
Harry sighed again and stuffed his homework under the floorboard. He walked slowly down the steps determined to make his aunt wait. As soon as he got down the steps Petunia glared at him.
"Go weed the garden!! Be quick about it, we don't want anyone to see you."
Harry did as he was told, but not before shooting a glare in the banshees direction. He walked out side and started pulling up dandelions, He really should have been wearing gloves, but Harry wasn't allowed to wear anything but Petunias, and those were pink and frilly. His Honor was more important then his hands.
Slipping of into a daze as he was working Harry tried to picture the most beautiful thing in the world to get him to stop thinking about the ugliest thing that he had ever seen, Voldie. Ever since Voldemort had rose Harry had started to wake up sweating with a burning scar almost every night with the feeling that he should remember something but he was never able to. So trying to think beautiful thoughts was the only thing that would help him.
Suddenly a vision of silver hair on a pale head with delicate features popped into his mind, but before he could figure out who/what it was he felt a burning sting coming from his hand. He looked down at it and was astounded to see a large lump forming on the top right side of his hand. A bee hovered close for a second before flying away.
Harry continued to work knowing that neither his aunt nor uncle would do anything about the sting if he went inside. But after a minute of working Harry was wondering. 'Do all bee stings hurt soo much' It seemed like the pain was intensifying!! He decided to go inside and run some water over it or something, but as he was going up the steps the air seemed to get thicker around him, he couldn't breath!! He was able to get the door halfway opened before falling to his knees.
Harry was unconscious when Petunia found him with a shriek, and he stayed that way until waking up briefly with an oxygen mask over his face in the ER. He thought he saw a brief flash of silver before falling into blissfulness yet again.
Warning: This story has implied slash, or shounen ai (boy love) this means it has m/m relationships, but nothing but kissing, hugging, and cuddling, I don't know enough about homosexual relation ships to write anything else. If this squeaks you, then don't read it, and don't you dare flame my story!!
'Harry Potter, the Boy who lived', Harry laughed ironically to himself at the thought, If the life he was living now was how the rest of his life was going to be he really didn't want to live it anymore. The people who used to bow to him on the street's only thought of him as a hero to be praised, only a symbol of victory. Now after his involvement with the Goblet of Fire the street bowers hurried away at the sight of him.
One rumor, one word could change the way everyone thought of him. Changing false love to suspicion and hate.
Dumbledore was not any better. Sure the headmaster was wise, over a hundred years of living will make anyone wise with knowledge. But even Harry (the supposed perfect Gryffindor) could see that the man harbored a major prejudice against Slytherins and any house the wasn't Gryffindor. In his first year Dumbledore gave Gryffindors points for being brave, did Slytherins get points for being sly? Of coarse not!! Did Ravenclaws get points for being smart?? No!! Did Hufflepuffs get points for being hard working?? I think you know the answer.
Every Year Harry had to go to his Aunts and Uncle's house for the summer, and year after year Harry complained about it. The letter sent to his house when he was 11 proved that someone actually knew Harry was living in a cupboard, but they didn't even care. As long as Harry, perfect Harry, was alive to be a perfect little sign of goodness no one gave a damm.
Ron and Hermione were nice, but they couldn't talk about meaningless polite topics for the rest of their lives. Quiditch is a great sport and all, but Ron still couldn't even say Voldies name. Hermione was afraid Harry would get hysterical if she brought up the subject of dark wizards rising, and Ron was too afraid. Harry thought that Ron would be rather like the street bowers if he didn't know Harry personally.
Harry had known from the first day of summer break that this summer would be the same as all the others.
His uncle had grimaced at the sight of him, as if he thought Harry had finally died during the school year and not told anyone. Without saying a word Harry had followed him to the car and rode to number 4 private drive. They had locked his trunk away and shoved him in the bedroom.
Now, two months into the summer Harry was locked in his bedroom, lying on his bed with a huge fist sized bruise on his stomach and a slightly smaller one on his arm. How he loved the summer time.
Every summer it was the same. Harry gets to be the slave, and if Harry ever fights back, Harry gets punished. A few bruises here and there where no one could see them, that was all.
Harry sighed. Lying on your back in an empty room is not fun. In fact to Harry it was just plain and simple boredom. His birthday had come and past. He got a few useless presents from his friends along with a really cool essay-writing pen (not in stores) from Sirius. This year Harry had not complained about starving as he had for the last, so no cakes or other food came for him. As far as he knew he was getting almost the right amount of food, stealing from the kitchen was very easy to do while cooking.
Harry decided that pacing for a while before Petunia shrieked for him would be wasting his rest time, so instead he pulled out the homework that he had hid away to do during the summer and started working on it. Surprisingly enough Harry found that he was enjoying potions a lot more then the year before, it really was amazing how ingredients fit together to make the perfect concoction.
Right in the middle of a sentence came the shriek.
"Harrrrryyyyyy, get you're lazy but downstairs right now!!! How can you expect me to clean up your every mess???"
Harry sighed again and stuffed his homework under the floorboard. He walked slowly down the steps determined to make his aunt wait. As soon as he got down the steps Petunia glared at him.
"Go weed the garden!! Be quick about it, we don't want anyone to see you."
Harry did as he was told, but not before shooting a glare in the banshees direction. He walked out side and started pulling up dandelions, He really should have been wearing gloves, but Harry wasn't allowed to wear anything but Petunias, and those were pink and frilly. His Honor was more important then his hands.
Slipping of into a daze as he was working Harry tried to picture the most beautiful thing in the world to get him to stop thinking about the ugliest thing that he had ever seen, Voldie. Ever since Voldemort had rose Harry had started to wake up sweating with a burning scar almost every night with the feeling that he should remember something but he was never able to. So trying to think beautiful thoughts was the only thing that would help him.
Suddenly a vision of silver hair on a pale head with delicate features popped into his mind, but before he could figure out who/what it was he felt a burning sting coming from his hand. He looked down at it and was astounded to see a large lump forming on the top right side of his hand. A bee hovered close for a second before flying away.
Harry continued to work knowing that neither his aunt nor uncle would do anything about the sting if he went inside. But after a minute of working Harry was wondering. 'Do all bee stings hurt soo much' It seemed like the pain was intensifying!! He decided to go inside and run some water over it or something, but as he was going up the steps the air seemed to get thicker around him, he couldn't breath!! He was able to get the door halfway opened before falling to his knees.
Harry was unconscious when Petunia found him with a shriek, and he stayed that way until waking up briefly with an oxygen mask over his face in the ER. He thought he saw a brief flash of silver before falling into blissfulness yet again.