Disclaimer: I do not own, and I do not take credit for the creation of Harry Potter.
Harry Potter and the War of the Wizards: Prologue
It was a cold night outside Number 4 Private Drive, but the boy who sat silently with his window open didn't seem to notice anything but the loneliness he was feeling inside. His messy black hair was looking slightly less kempt than usual and his bright green eyes were a dim as he stared, unseeing, out into the night.
Abruptly the boy stirred and glanced at his clock. The little red letters told him it was now 2 o'clock in the morning. He rubbed his tired eyes and stood up. He was skinny and had the look of one who lost weight in a short period of time. The jeans he wore hung loosely on his hips and would have fallen but for the belt that held tight to them with effort. The shirt he wore was stained and pocked with holes around his underarms, but the boy seemed to care as much about his appearance as the cold that blew through his room and circled him like a blanket of ice. He shivered unknowingly and plopped onto his bed.
His room was peculiar, yes it was messy like most teenagers his age, but as one would step inside, they would find a most strange arrangement of items laying about. In the corner by the boy's desk lay a trunk open and filled with unusual items for all to see; such as a cauldron and books that read History of Quidditch by Finky Stinkbottom, and How To Manage You're Cauldron In Three Easy Steps by Lousella Hornswallow. Resting atop his dresser was a cage for a large bird, though none could be seen within. And placed against his bed post so that it stood straight up, was a broom stick with the words FIrebolt written a long it's handle.
Minutes passed until finally the boy drifted off into a restless sleep. A man with long black hair flashed vividly in his mind as he fell soundless through an ancient veil. The boy thrashed and tossed now in his slumber, soft moans escaping his lips. The boy called Harry Potter would wake up soon, his mind more troubled than ever.