Chapter 1: Letters
By, Silver Lighting
Summers were nothing to brag about when you lived with Vernon Dursley, his wife Petunia, and their son, Dudley. Double that if you went to Hogworts, school of witchcraft and wizardly. Most of the time you might spend in the smallest bedroom upstairs. The other half of the time, you might spend cleaning or working out in the hot sun. This was just the way one boy spends his summer vacation. His name was Harry Potter. And if he had his way, school would never end.
However, lately he'd started to think the unthinkable. If he'd never had gone to Hogworts, he'd never had known that he was a part of something big.
You see, Harry was no ordinary boy, not even by wizard-standers. When he was very young, Harry's mother and father were killed. No, not in a car wreak, like he had thought for 11 years of his short life. Lily and James Potter had been murdered. Not by an ordinary men, but a mad man. A man that witches and wizards still feared to speak of. Lord Voldemort.
But when Voldemort had tried to kill Harry, something went wrong. No one knows for sure what happened. Some say that Lily and James loved their son so much that when Voldemort tried to kill him, his parents love reached beyond the grave and "defeated" him.
Whatever it was that stopped Voldemort, some say, we'll never know. For after that night he fled, leaving Harry with only a lighting blot scar and an Aunt and Uncle who didn't want him.
So that's how Harry got to where he is. He learned from a giant named Hagrid that he was a wizard, and had gone off to school a few weeks later. Sometimes, when he was at school, he'd still wake up and think it was all just a long dream. But then he'd think about all the pain he'd gone through and know it wasn't a dream, but real.
Everyone thought that Harry was some kind of saint because he'd "killed" Voldemort. What they didn't know was that the Ministary of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was hiding a dark secret.
Harry lay awake on his bed in the smallest bedroom and stared up at the plain white ceiling. You may think that he should be sound asleep like every other boy at one o'clock in the morning. But Harry's dreams were filled with graveyards, Death Eaters, Voldemort, and evil that was so strong that he tasted it in his mouth, its bitter taste with him all day, remanding him of that night he longed to forget. Sometimes, he heard voices that sound as if they were being whispered in his ear. That was the part he hated most, hearing people talking to him and telling him that it was all his fault, being trapped in darkness while they accused him of the unthinkable.
So Harry stayed wake and in doing so, he became one of the many prisoners of insomnia. Dark circulates were ever present under green eyes that had taking on a dull, faded look. To anyone that look, they would think Harry had lost his only best friend. Even his Uncle and Aunt had noticed that something was troubling him, and they never looked at him if they could avoid it.
Suddenly, there was a soft tapping on his window. Lifting his head off the pillow, Harry saw that it was his owl, Hedwig. Standing, he pulled his shirt down where it had bunched up above his jeans from ling on the twin bed. He walked over to the window, his movements slow and sluggish.
"Hey girl," he said as she came in the window followed by 3 other owls. One was small and looked like a tennis ball with feathers. This one, he knew, was his best friend Ron's owl, Pig. The second owl was black, without a hint of lightness to it. The last owl looked like a school owl.
The minute Harry removed the thinly folded letter from the leg of the black owl, it jumped to Hedwig's cage for a tiny sip of water, then took flight into the night. The school owl dropped two letters on to his bed, then headed the same route the black one had taken; getting a sip of Hedwig's water before heading out into the cool night air.
Pig had a tiny package and a note with him, but after Harry removed them, he hopped into Hedwig's cage, and was fast asleep within minutes. Finally, Hedwig herself lay one lone letter into his open hand before joining Pig and falling asleep as well.
Putting the letters into a small stack the order in which they had been giving to him, Harry opened the small one that the black owl had left him. He didn't know the hand writing, but that really didn't bother him. What *did* trouble him was what the letter said.
H. Potter,
Envy rises
Death multiples
Days are numbered
Sides are taken,
Lightness vs. Darkness,
Choose well.
After Harry read the word "well", the letter burst into a ball of black flames. Startled, Harry dropped it and watched as it fell to the carpeted floor. It consumed itself before turning into orb of dust. The wind from the open window picked up the ashes and carried them into the darkness, disappearing within seconds.
Kneeling down, Harry ran his open hand over the spot where the letter had burnt itself out. The plain-Jane brown carpet was cool and soft to the touch. Not an inch was chard, or in any way damaged that he could tell.
Standing back up, he walked over to his desk and wrote the poem down, thinking that he might need to see it again and making a mental note to himself to think some more about it later.
Walking back over to the bed, he opened the first letter that the school had giving him. It was the same old letter he got every year, from Professor McGonagall, with the book list of what he would need this year. The next was from Hagrid, the Hogwart's game keeper.
Harry,
Happy Birthday!
Hope the Muggles are treating ya ok and that all is fine.
Dumbledore sends his regards.
All the best,
Hagrid
A small smile lifted the corners of Harry's mouth as he finished reading the letter. How he missed everyone!
Sitting aside the two letters, Harry picked up the letter Pig had given him.
Harry,
Happy 15th birthday!!!!
Hermione's here and mom and dad wrote to Dumbledore to ask if you can come. No word let. Hope you can come. If you ever get tried of staying with the Muggles, just write and me and Fred and George will come and get you.
*Under Ron's messy writing was Hermione's neat and perfect script.*
Don't listen to him, Harry, his just going on and on, you know how he is. Hope you like the gift we got you.
Love From,
Hermione *beside this was an untidy* and Ron
Sitting the letter down, Harry reached for the tiny package and pulled the dark brown paper from it. It was, not surprisingly, a book, intitled, Down Falls of The Great. It looked really old and the leather cover was frayed in many places. Opening up the cover, Harry saw a lot of numbers and letters wrote across the top of the dull colored inside and spilling onto the other colored page. Under this was another note from Hermione and Ron.
It was Hermione's idea to get you a book. (In Ron's wrting, then beside that, Hermione's.) I thought that Harry would like it, you're mentioned in it, by the way. Page 74.
Shaking his head at their bichering, even in a letter, Harry sat the book down; he'd read it later. Then he noticed the last letter, the one Hedwig had brought. It was from Sirius Black, Harry's god-father.
Harry,
Things are well here and hope they are at the Dursleys'. My hope is that this year I can prove myself innocent. I have been getting files and help from old friends through most of this summer. Maybe, after your 5th year, you can come home to me, instead of those vile Muggles. This is my hope, anyway.
Happy Birthday, I hope this letter reached you in time for it. I have nothing to give you, but hopefully soon.
Sirius
Harry's heart lifted for the first time since the middle of his 4th year at Hogwarts. If Sirius was free, he'd never have to see this dull, lifeless bedroom again. Never have to see the Dursleys' again. Never have to see Privet Drive again.
Slowly, Harry climbed back into bed; he'd write everyone back later to thank them. Now, however, he was filled with a great sleepiness, that which he'd thought he'd never again feel. Holding Sirius's letter in his right hand, Harry pulled his shoes off and fell into a dreamless sleep.
By, Silver Lighting
Summers were nothing to brag about when you lived with Vernon Dursley, his wife Petunia, and their son, Dudley. Double that if you went to Hogworts, school of witchcraft and wizardly. Most of the time you might spend in the smallest bedroom upstairs. The other half of the time, you might spend cleaning or working out in the hot sun. This was just the way one boy spends his summer vacation. His name was Harry Potter. And if he had his way, school would never end.
However, lately he'd started to think the unthinkable. If he'd never had gone to Hogworts, he'd never had known that he was a part of something big.
You see, Harry was no ordinary boy, not even by wizard-standers. When he was very young, Harry's mother and father were killed. No, not in a car wreak, like he had thought for 11 years of his short life. Lily and James Potter had been murdered. Not by an ordinary men, but a mad man. A man that witches and wizards still feared to speak of. Lord Voldemort.
But when Voldemort had tried to kill Harry, something went wrong. No one knows for sure what happened. Some say that Lily and James loved their son so much that when Voldemort tried to kill him, his parents love reached beyond the grave and "defeated" him.
Whatever it was that stopped Voldemort, some say, we'll never know. For after that night he fled, leaving Harry with only a lighting blot scar and an Aunt and Uncle who didn't want him.
So that's how Harry got to where he is. He learned from a giant named Hagrid that he was a wizard, and had gone off to school a few weeks later. Sometimes, when he was at school, he'd still wake up and think it was all just a long dream. But then he'd think about all the pain he'd gone through and know it wasn't a dream, but real.
Everyone thought that Harry was some kind of saint because he'd "killed" Voldemort. What they didn't know was that the Ministary of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was hiding a dark secret.
Harry lay awake on his bed in the smallest bedroom and stared up at the plain white ceiling. You may think that he should be sound asleep like every other boy at one o'clock in the morning. But Harry's dreams were filled with graveyards, Death Eaters, Voldemort, and evil that was so strong that he tasted it in his mouth, its bitter taste with him all day, remanding him of that night he longed to forget. Sometimes, he heard voices that sound as if they were being whispered in his ear. That was the part he hated most, hearing people talking to him and telling him that it was all his fault, being trapped in darkness while they accused him of the unthinkable.
So Harry stayed wake and in doing so, he became one of the many prisoners of insomnia. Dark circulates were ever present under green eyes that had taking on a dull, faded look. To anyone that look, they would think Harry had lost his only best friend. Even his Uncle and Aunt had noticed that something was troubling him, and they never looked at him if they could avoid it.
Suddenly, there was a soft tapping on his window. Lifting his head off the pillow, Harry saw that it was his owl, Hedwig. Standing, he pulled his shirt down where it had bunched up above his jeans from ling on the twin bed. He walked over to the window, his movements slow and sluggish.
"Hey girl," he said as she came in the window followed by 3 other owls. One was small and looked like a tennis ball with feathers. This one, he knew, was his best friend Ron's owl, Pig. The second owl was black, without a hint of lightness to it. The last owl looked like a school owl.
The minute Harry removed the thinly folded letter from the leg of the black owl, it jumped to Hedwig's cage for a tiny sip of water, then took flight into the night. The school owl dropped two letters on to his bed, then headed the same route the black one had taken; getting a sip of Hedwig's water before heading out into the cool night air.
Pig had a tiny package and a note with him, but after Harry removed them, he hopped into Hedwig's cage, and was fast asleep within minutes. Finally, Hedwig herself lay one lone letter into his open hand before joining Pig and falling asleep as well.
Putting the letters into a small stack the order in which they had been giving to him, Harry opened the small one that the black owl had left him. He didn't know the hand writing, but that really didn't bother him. What *did* trouble him was what the letter said.
H. Potter,
Envy rises
Death multiples
Days are numbered
Sides are taken,
Lightness vs. Darkness,
Choose well.
After Harry read the word "well", the letter burst into a ball of black flames. Startled, Harry dropped it and watched as it fell to the carpeted floor. It consumed itself before turning into orb of dust. The wind from the open window picked up the ashes and carried them into the darkness, disappearing within seconds.
Kneeling down, Harry ran his open hand over the spot where the letter had burnt itself out. The plain-Jane brown carpet was cool and soft to the touch. Not an inch was chard, or in any way damaged that he could tell.
Standing back up, he walked over to his desk and wrote the poem down, thinking that he might need to see it again and making a mental note to himself to think some more about it later.
Walking back over to the bed, he opened the first letter that the school had giving him. It was the same old letter he got every year, from Professor McGonagall, with the book list of what he would need this year. The next was from Hagrid, the Hogwart's game keeper.
Harry,
Happy Birthday!
Hope the Muggles are treating ya ok and that all is fine.
Dumbledore sends his regards.
All the best,
Hagrid
A small smile lifted the corners of Harry's mouth as he finished reading the letter. How he missed everyone!
Sitting aside the two letters, Harry picked up the letter Pig had given him.
Harry,
Happy 15th birthday!!!!
Hermione's here and mom and dad wrote to Dumbledore to ask if you can come. No word let. Hope you can come. If you ever get tried of staying with the Muggles, just write and me and Fred and George will come and get you.
*Under Ron's messy writing was Hermione's neat and perfect script.*
Don't listen to him, Harry, his just going on and on, you know how he is. Hope you like the gift we got you.
Love From,
Hermione *beside this was an untidy* and Ron
Sitting the letter down, Harry reached for the tiny package and pulled the dark brown paper from it. It was, not surprisingly, a book, intitled, Down Falls of The Great. It looked really old and the leather cover was frayed in many places. Opening up the cover, Harry saw a lot of numbers and letters wrote across the top of the dull colored inside and spilling onto the other colored page. Under this was another note from Hermione and Ron.
It was Hermione's idea to get you a book. (In Ron's wrting, then beside that, Hermione's.) I thought that Harry would like it, you're mentioned in it, by the way. Page 74.
Shaking his head at their bichering, even in a letter, Harry sat the book down; he'd read it later. Then he noticed the last letter, the one Hedwig had brought. It was from Sirius Black, Harry's god-father.
Harry,
Things are well here and hope they are at the Dursleys'. My hope is that this year I can prove myself innocent. I have been getting files and help from old friends through most of this summer. Maybe, after your 5th year, you can come home to me, instead of those vile Muggles. This is my hope, anyway.
Happy Birthday, I hope this letter reached you in time for it. I have nothing to give you, but hopefully soon.
Sirius
Harry's heart lifted for the first time since the middle of his 4th year at Hogwarts. If Sirius was free, he'd never have to see this dull, lifeless bedroom again. Never have to see the Dursleys' again. Never have to see Privet Drive again.
Slowly, Harry climbed back into bed; he'd write everyone back later to thank them. Now, however, he was filled with a great sleepiness, that which he'd thought he'd never again feel. Holding Sirius's letter in his right hand, Harry pulled his shoes off and fell into a dreamless sleep.