Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Harry Potter and the Unexpected Betrayal
Chapter One
Wallowing in Grief
Harry Potter's bright green eyes gleamed in the sunlight, and his glasses flashed light elsewhere, while his messy hair was being blown around by a slight wind. He had grown a great deal over the summer, so much, in fact, that the Dursleys' were forced to buy him some clothes (from Good Will) for his old shirts (that now lay in the garbage) didn't fit him. His long sleeve shirts could have be mistaken for t-shirts, and his pants had looked like shorts. This was saying something, as the clothes had once been his cousin's, Dudley, who was immensely large.
Harry was a boy like no other. When he was only one year old, he had survived the killing curse of the most powerful Dark Sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort. It was because of that, that Harry now had a lighting-bolt shaped scar on his forehead and had caused Voldemort to lose all his power, ended up in the Hospital Wing at his school at the end of every year, and why last year everyone had thought him a deranged, attention-seeking prat.
Those lies had been helped along by the Ministry of Magic, though, because they had not wanted to deal with the fact that Lord Voldemort had risen once again. Yes, Harry had witnessed his return a little over a year ago, which caused the Ministry to discredit Harry and Albus Dumbledore, who kept trying to make Cornelius Fudge (The Minister of Magic) believe that Voldemort had indeed risen again.
They would not believe it, though, until only a month ago, when many Aurors (Dark wizard catchers) and Cornelius himself saw Lord Voldemort and Dumbledore dueling. They had also caught many Death Eaters (Voldemort's faithful supporters). But those Death Eaters had escaped the day before, as Azkaban, the Wizard Prison, was no longer under Ministry control. Lord Voldemort had offered them gifts that the Ministry could not.
That's why Harry was clutching the latest issue of the Daily Prophet in his hand, reading it. On the front page, they were advertising a club to help people with learning difficult spells to fend off the Death Eaters, if they ever came across them, which they most likely would. On the next page, there were advertisements on the Kwikspell course, which was for Squibs (People born in magical families with no magical powers).
There had been many advertisements on everything to help fend off Death Eaters. There were even a few feeble ones saying the best spells to use if you ever encountered Voldemort himself, but Harry knew these wouldn't work. There was only one person in the world who could defeat Voldemort, and that was him. Harry Potter.
But he couldn't think about that right now. In fact, the only thing he could think about was his godfather, Sirius Black. Who was dead now, from the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange, his own family member. To Harry, he was like a father. Because Harry had never known his parents, James and Lily Potter. So it hurt him considerably more to have someone that he actually knew, loved, could see and understand them, to die, instead of having his parents who'd died when he was one. Of course, he knew he'd loved them. But it just wasn't the same.
Harry Potter and the Unexpected Betrayal
Chapter One
Wallowing in Grief
Harry Potter's bright green eyes gleamed in the sunlight, and his glasses flashed light elsewhere, while his messy hair was being blown around by a slight wind. He had grown a great deal over the summer, so much, in fact, that the Dursleys' were forced to buy him some clothes (from Good Will) for his old shirts (that now lay in the garbage) didn't fit him. His long sleeve shirts could have be mistaken for t-shirts, and his pants had looked like shorts. This was saying something, as the clothes had once been his cousin's, Dudley, who was immensely large.
Harry was a boy like no other. When he was only one year old, he had survived the killing curse of the most powerful Dark Sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort. It was because of that, that Harry now had a lighting-bolt shaped scar on his forehead and had caused Voldemort to lose all his power, ended up in the Hospital Wing at his school at the end of every year, and why last year everyone had thought him a deranged, attention-seeking prat.
Those lies had been helped along by the Ministry of Magic, though, because they had not wanted to deal with the fact that Lord Voldemort had risen once again. Yes, Harry had witnessed his return a little over a year ago, which caused the Ministry to discredit Harry and Albus Dumbledore, who kept trying to make Cornelius Fudge (The Minister of Magic) believe that Voldemort had indeed risen again.
They would not believe it, though, until only a month ago, when many Aurors (Dark wizard catchers) and Cornelius himself saw Lord Voldemort and Dumbledore dueling. They had also caught many Death Eaters (Voldemort's faithful supporters). But those Death Eaters had escaped the day before, as Azkaban, the Wizard Prison, was no longer under Ministry control. Lord Voldemort had offered them gifts that the Ministry could not.
That's why Harry was clutching the latest issue of the Daily Prophet in his hand, reading it. On the front page, they were advertising a club to help people with learning difficult spells to fend off the Death Eaters, if they ever came across them, which they most likely would. On the next page, there were advertisements on the Kwikspell course, which was for Squibs (People born in magical families with no magical powers).
There had been many advertisements on everything to help fend off Death Eaters. There were even a few feeble ones saying the best spells to use if you ever encountered Voldemort himself, but Harry knew these wouldn't work. There was only one person in the world who could defeat Voldemort, and that was him. Harry Potter.
But he couldn't think about that right now. In fact, the only thing he could think about was his godfather, Sirius Black. Who was dead now, from the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange, his own family member. To Harry, he was like a father. Because Harry had never known his parents, James and Lily Potter. So it hurt him considerably more to have someone that he actually knew, loved, could see and understand them, to die, instead of having his parents who'd died when he was one. Of course, he knew he'd loved them. But it just wasn't the same.