Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter Sirius wouldn't be dead, so there.
This being my first fic that I have published, I do ask you to be considerate. on second thought, f to that, do whatever you want. Flames are welcome; I'll just laugh at you.
Also, I hold great respect for authors that have already published works. See my favorite stories page when I get it up; these stories want to make me vomit (in a good way). If I write anything that you have, please email me so I can give credit where it is due. Thank you.
A simple warning to the lot of you, let it be known to the masses that there shall be out of character people. This is going to be an AUish type thing, I hated book five so I'm going to start my shizzle off from the end of 4th year. If you have a problem with me going against the book, that's just to bad; find another story that floats your boat.
-Greg Poyar (Rise of Phoenix) Righto then, let's get this show on the road.
The Better Life
Lightning flashed again among the tidal wave of rain that poured down. All of the people on Privet Drive were indoors, warming up by the fire or taking warm showers. All except one; a pale, skinny, black haired boy was still outside of Number 4 Privet Drive.
Although normal to most people's view, only a little on the skinny side, the boy was anything but normal. This boy was Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, and at the moment he was The Boy Who Had Yet To Finish His Chores. Soaking wet, his raven black hair plastered to his face, he weeded the garden of Number 4 in a daze.
Long ago had this sort of manual labor such as weeding the garden or washing the dishes become second nature to him, he could do it in his sleep. What was keeping him from finishing his task and going inside to his only still living family, the Dursleys, was what had happened last year at his school.
Now you have to see, Harold James Potter wasn't a 'normal' person per say. Harry Potter was a wizard, and quite a strong one at that. He had barley escaped with his life 13 years ago when a powerful dark wizard know to the wizarding public as Lord Voldemort. Voldemort's rise to power had been swift and brutal, murdering all opposition in his quest for supreme power. Among the dead were Lily and James Potter, a powerful couple of a witch and wizard.
James Potter, who had been betrayed by his school friend Peter Pettigrew, had gone down fighting the Dark Lord, trying to buy his family the time they needed to escape with their lives. He had failed, and Voldemort turned his attention to the baby that was Harry Potter. Lily, pleading with Voldemort for her son's life had been the next to fall.
This is where the story grew inconsistent, when the Dark Lord, who had been killing people for years upon years turned his wand upon the one year old Harry, his spell backfired, ripping Voldemort from his body and leaving him as nothing more than a spirit. Some would say that Harry Potter had massive Dark powers and Voldemort was trying to off his successor, others would say that Harry was protected by his mother's sacrifice, a powerful ancient magic. Regardless of what anyone said, though, the fact remained that Harry Potter, at the age of one, had accomplished what many full grown wizards had been trying to do for years: destroy Voldemort and save all of Europe from his power.
Needless to say, from that moment on, Harry Potter was famous; not that he knew it. He was taken to his relatives, the Dursleys by Rubeus Hagrid, under the supervision of Albus Dumbledore. For the next ten years of his life, he would be belittled and rejected by his relatives, and everyone else. Dudley Dursley saw to that, Harry never did make any friends, everyone was to afraid of Dudley and his gang to hang out with the weird Harry Potter.
At the age of eleven everything changed; Harry had found out that he was a wizard and had gone to the most prestigious school for witchcraft and wizardry in all of Europe: Hogwarts. To say that he was happy would be the biggest understatement of this century. Over the next three years The Boy Who Lived would face a risen Voldemort two more times, as well as one of his servants, who were called Death Eaters. On top of that he became the youngest Seeker in a century.
Then came his fourth year of Hogwarts. A disastrous year which found him placed in a competition with other European schools to determine which school was better at the moment: The Triwizard Tournament. The end result of the Tournament was what was troubling Harry Potter at the moment; in the Third and final Task that the participants had to undergo had resulted in the death of his fellow Hogwarts Champion and the resurrection of Lord Voldemort. Voldemort wasn't what was troubling the teenager at the moment though, it was the haunting grey eyes of Cedric Diggory.
Finally finishing the appointed task, Harry, soaked to the bone and freezing cold, meandered (God I love that word, meandering is a way of life) his way into Number 4 Privet Drive. Walking into the kitchen to find some food, the large, purple face of Vernon Dursley came into view, obviously not happy to have his perfect kitchen soiled by a 'freak.' Harry's aunt, Petunia, walked into the kitchen and let out a high pitched squeal upon seeing her almost to clean kitchen suddenly filled with mud.
"You abnormal freak; didn't we teach you better than to track your filth inside the house? After all we've done for you this is how you repay us?"
Harry, in one of his more melancholy moods today, just raised an eyebrow and went up the stairs to take a shower. Feeling slightly sadistic for a moment, he wondered what would happen if he cursed the Dursleys to be dirty forever. Still chuckling at the thought of perfect Petunia Dursley always smelling as if she just walked out of the trash, he stepped into the shower.
The next moment, his thoughts turned solemn; he needed to pull his head out of his ass. This year when Voldemort struck, which he undoubtedly would, he would be ready. Harry had gotten over the death of Cedric, but he'd be damned if he let anyone else die around him. The only problem was the Dursleys; he couldn't do anything the even resembled magic around them.
'What I need to do it get away from them somehow,' Harry thought 'I could run away without magic. that could work, if no one knew I was gone, they couldn't take me back to here. Hmm. even if I did get out, where would I go?'
The Weasleys were out, they'd just hand him back over to Dumbledore, and he end up back here with more surveillance. Basically anyone who he knew would give him back to Dumbledore; he needed to go somewhere where he could practice his magic without any repercussions, and somehow make sure that no one would recognize him. Not for the first time in his life, he wondered by Dumbledore had put him in this house; sure it was powerful blood magic that protected him from Voldemort while he was here, but what did that matter if his relatives killed him for being a 'freak' as they had threatened before.
'Diagon Alley could work, I suppose. I would have to stop in Muggle London and change the way I look, not to mention cover up this God forsaken scar.'
Contrary to popular belief, Harry Potter hated who he was. While most would love to be one of the most famous wizards of the age, every time Harry saw someone gaping at him, he would like nothing more than to just punch that person in the face. He hated how people admired him for something that wasn't even conscious thought, hell, he didn't understand what he did to vanquish the Dark Lord, he was one at the time. People liked Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, not the person that he was. Everyone in the wizard world looked to him to be their savior; but he would rather be just another average kid. Fate was cruel though, and put Harry were he was now; admired by the wizarding community under false pretense, and looked down upon by the only muggles he really knew because of his magical lineage.
What this Harry Potter wanted more than anything was to get away from his life for a while. Not be the savior of the wizarding community for once, just be himself. Then again if he pulled this off correctly, he'd just be another face in the crowd this summer, no Dursleys, no looks of ridiculous admiration, he could just be there.
This summer was looking better already.
There you go, the first chapter is done. Yes I know it's boring, but hey, I had to give some background and set up the rest of the story. Reviews and thoughts as where you'd like this story to go are always welcome, just email or instant message me (both of my screen names are on my profile). Reviews are always welcome, and as this is my first story, I don't really expect that much to come from it. The second chapter will probably be done by the time this one is up; my internet is being a pirate at the moment and not working.
One of the best parts of my life is God. I'm a Christian, and proud to be one, I enjoy talking about faith in general so if you ever have a hankering to talk to someone about aspects of that matter, I'm usually on AIM; give me a ring.
Thanks for reading my stuff Rise of Phoenix
Psalm 145: 17
'The Lord is my strength and my shield;
My heart trusts in Him, and I am helped;
Therefore my heart exults,
And with my song I shall thank Him.
Totally sweet. I'll talk to you people later.
This being my first fic that I have published, I do ask you to be considerate. on second thought, f to that, do whatever you want. Flames are welcome; I'll just laugh at you.
Also, I hold great respect for authors that have already published works. See my favorite stories page when I get it up; these stories want to make me vomit (in a good way). If I write anything that you have, please email me so I can give credit where it is due. Thank you.
A simple warning to the lot of you, let it be known to the masses that there shall be out of character people. This is going to be an AUish type thing, I hated book five so I'm going to start my shizzle off from the end of 4th year. If you have a problem with me going against the book, that's just to bad; find another story that floats your boat.
-Greg Poyar (Rise of Phoenix) Righto then, let's get this show on the road.
The Better Life
Lightning flashed again among the tidal wave of rain that poured down. All of the people on Privet Drive were indoors, warming up by the fire or taking warm showers. All except one; a pale, skinny, black haired boy was still outside of Number 4 Privet Drive.
Although normal to most people's view, only a little on the skinny side, the boy was anything but normal. This boy was Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, and at the moment he was The Boy Who Had Yet To Finish His Chores. Soaking wet, his raven black hair plastered to his face, he weeded the garden of Number 4 in a daze.
Long ago had this sort of manual labor such as weeding the garden or washing the dishes become second nature to him, he could do it in his sleep. What was keeping him from finishing his task and going inside to his only still living family, the Dursleys, was what had happened last year at his school.
Now you have to see, Harold James Potter wasn't a 'normal' person per say. Harry Potter was a wizard, and quite a strong one at that. He had barley escaped with his life 13 years ago when a powerful dark wizard know to the wizarding public as Lord Voldemort. Voldemort's rise to power had been swift and brutal, murdering all opposition in his quest for supreme power. Among the dead were Lily and James Potter, a powerful couple of a witch and wizard.
James Potter, who had been betrayed by his school friend Peter Pettigrew, had gone down fighting the Dark Lord, trying to buy his family the time they needed to escape with their lives. He had failed, and Voldemort turned his attention to the baby that was Harry Potter. Lily, pleading with Voldemort for her son's life had been the next to fall.
This is where the story grew inconsistent, when the Dark Lord, who had been killing people for years upon years turned his wand upon the one year old Harry, his spell backfired, ripping Voldemort from his body and leaving him as nothing more than a spirit. Some would say that Harry Potter had massive Dark powers and Voldemort was trying to off his successor, others would say that Harry was protected by his mother's sacrifice, a powerful ancient magic. Regardless of what anyone said, though, the fact remained that Harry Potter, at the age of one, had accomplished what many full grown wizards had been trying to do for years: destroy Voldemort and save all of Europe from his power.
Needless to say, from that moment on, Harry Potter was famous; not that he knew it. He was taken to his relatives, the Dursleys by Rubeus Hagrid, under the supervision of Albus Dumbledore. For the next ten years of his life, he would be belittled and rejected by his relatives, and everyone else. Dudley Dursley saw to that, Harry never did make any friends, everyone was to afraid of Dudley and his gang to hang out with the weird Harry Potter.
At the age of eleven everything changed; Harry had found out that he was a wizard and had gone to the most prestigious school for witchcraft and wizardry in all of Europe: Hogwarts. To say that he was happy would be the biggest understatement of this century. Over the next three years The Boy Who Lived would face a risen Voldemort two more times, as well as one of his servants, who were called Death Eaters. On top of that he became the youngest Seeker in a century.
Then came his fourth year of Hogwarts. A disastrous year which found him placed in a competition with other European schools to determine which school was better at the moment: The Triwizard Tournament. The end result of the Tournament was what was troubling Harry Potter at the moment; in the Third and final Task that the participants had to undergo had resulted in the death of his fellow Hogwarts Champion and the resurrection of Lord Voldemort. Voldemort wasn't what was troubling the teenager at the moment though, it was the haunting grey eyes of Cedric Diggory.
Finally finishing the appointed task, Harry, soaked to the bone and freezing cold, meandered (God I love that word, meandering is a way of life) his way into Number 4 Privet Drive. Walking into the kitchen to find some food, the large, purple face of Vernon Dursley came into view, obviously not happy to have his perfect kitchen soiled by a 'freak.' Harry's aunt, Petunia, walked into the kitchen and let out a high pitched squeal upon seeing her almost to clean kitchen suddenly filled with mud.
"You abnormal freak; didn't we teach you better than to track your filth inside the house? After all we've done for you this is how you repay us?"
Harry, in one of his more melancholy moods today, just raised an eyebrow and went up the stairs to take a shower. Feeling slightly sadistic for a moment, he wondered what would happen if he cursed the Dursleys to be dirty forever. Still chuckling at the thought of perfect Petunia Dursley always smelling as if she just walked out of the trash, he stepped into the shower.
The next moment, his thoughts turned solemn; he needed to pull his head out of his ass. This year when Voldemort struck, which he undoubtedly would, he would be ready. Harry had gotten over the death of Cedric, but he'd be damned if he let anyone else die around him. The only problem was the Dursleys; he couldn't do anything the even resembled magic around them.
'What I need to do it get away from them somehow,' Harry thought 'I could run away without magic. that could work, if no one knew I was gone, they couldn't take me back to here. Hmm. even if I did get out, where would I go?'
The Weasleys were out, they'd just hand him back over to Dumbledore, and he end up back here with more surveillance. Basically anyone who he knew would give him back to Dumbledore; he needed to go somewhere where he could practice his magic without any repercussions, and somehow make sure that no one would recognize him. Not for the first time in his life, he wondered by Dumbledore had put him in this house; sure it was powerful blood magic that protected him from Voldemort while he was here, but what did that matter if his relatives killed him for being a 'freak' as they had threatened before.
'Diagon Alley could work, I suppose. I would have to stop in Muggle London and change the way I look, not to mention cover up this God forsaken scar.'
Contrary to popular belief, Harry Potter hated who he was. While most would love to be one of the most famous wizards of the age, every time Harry saw someone gaping at him, he would like nothing more than to just punch that person in the face. He hated how people admired him for something that wasn't even conscious thought, hell, he didn't understand what he did to vanquish the Dark Lord, he was one at the time. People liked Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, not the person that he was. Everyone in the wizard world looked to him to be their savior; but he would rather be just another average kid. Fate was cruel though, and put Harry were he was now; admired by the wizarding community under false pretense, and looked down upon by the only muggles he really knew because of his magical lineage.
What this Harry Potter wanted more than anything was to get away from his life for a while. Not be the savior of the wizarding community for once, just be himself. Then again if he pulled this off correctly, he'd just be another face in the crowd this summer, no Dursleys, no looks of ridiculous admiration, he could just be there.
This summer was looking better already.
There you go, the first chapter is done. Yes I know it's boring, but hey, I had to give some background and set up the rest of the story. Reviews and thoughts as where you'd like this story to go are always welcome, just email or instant message me (both of my screen names are on my profile). Reviews are always welcome, and as this is my first story, I don't really expect that much to come from it. The second chapter will probably be done by the time this one is up; my internet is being a pirate at the moment and not working.
One of the best parts of my life is God. I'm a Christian, and proud to be one, I enjoy talking about faith in general so if you ever have a hankering to talk to someone about aspects of that matter, I'm usually on AIM; give me a ring.
Thanks for reading my stuff Rise of Phoenix
Psalm 145: 17
'The Lord is my strength and my shield;
My heart trusts in Him, and I am helped;
Therefore my heart exults,
And with my song I shall thank Him.
Totally sweet. I'll talk to you people later.