Heather Paulson: Not funny at all? That's not what I got from my friends. Maybe we just have different tastes.
Kath: Interesting in a good way I hope ^_^
Koosei: Not quite *evil snicker*
Ladytigera21: I suggest you turn away right now if you don't like being confused. This is plotline is going to test both your imagination and your memory.
Alcandre: Thanks for the compliment! I thought it was rather funny myself. (And I too would act sooo like that *sweatdrops*)
Lady Light: You'll just have to wait to find out, ne?
Final-Fan: You do mean odd in a good way right? Whatever, I'll take it as a compliment because people call me odd and I still like me ^_^
SailorVeggie SailorAnime: That part was my favourite too! *winks*
Ancient-Legend: I have to admit, when I started the fic, it was going to be kind of like that… okay, totally like that, but then my crazy overactive imagination took over so now it's waaaay original and waaaay confusing.
angelwings6117: Was it? Or was it the present? Or maybe the future?
angel of the white moon: *hugs* Not a flashback per say, and there are no dimensions in this piece. (Utterly confused yet?)
~Uh-Oh~: Stoppit! You're making me blush! I did write this one faster, but I hope you like it just as much as the others! It's not quite as funny, (okay, not even close) but there will be more humour, I'm just experimenting with something.
Chibi-ami: Wow! You babble like me! Congrats! But like I said up there ^, if you don't like being confused, and/or works that require you to actually think, then you should probably turn away. I'm hoping you don't though!
SerinityRules: *gasps in outrage and puts hands on hips* Says you! (Won't even bother to go into that…)
Shinia: Thankies! ^______^
Himeno Midori: When I read you're review, I burst out laughing… So did my friends. Anyways, Let me just say things aren't always as they appear. (*giggles* wonder what he would think…)
I think that covers everything, so on with the fic!
The Noble Name Of Black
Summers were bloody hell; it was officially official. Who was the idiot who decided to make a break of two months in the middle of the school year? Sure, it was a break from classes (i.e. Potions), and revising and exams, but it opened the door to wandering thoughts. What was Voldemort up to? Had the Death Eaters killed anyone? What were Ron and Hermione doing? Was Sirius really gone…?
Running a hand roughly through his hair, Harry Potter plopped down angrily on his tiny bed. His whole life had been question after question. It changed him. Sure, he still had the unruly black and piercing green eyes, not to mention the lightning shaped scar on his forehead, but he was no longer the anxious eleven-year-old who first entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Now (though he didn't even know it himself), he was a hardened and depressed sixteen-year-old who wanted the family life he had thrice been cheated out of and a received a destiny he never wanted.
It didn't help that he wasn't allowed out of his house. Strict orders from Dumbledore. The whole blood protection thing was getting to be a real pain. Come on! How dangerous could Privet Drive be? Then again, Dementors had appeared here last year, almost earning him an expulsion from Hogwarts. And those had been sent by Umbrigde. Voldemort was like ten times more powerful, evil and sadistic than even her. The thought made Harry's insides churn. How the hell was he supposed to kill Voldemort?
There was a sharp rap at the door. A second later, Uncle Vernon stuck his fat head in. "Come on out boy! Supper's ready! We don't want you to get malnourished do we?" The man gave a forced laugh. Rolling his eyes, Harry got up and followed his uncle down the stairs. "No need to write those… people and tell them we're not treating you right eh?"
"No," said Harry flatly, sitting down at the table. Immediately, Dudley (and all his other four hundred pounds) started inching his chair away. Since the last encounter with the Dementors, Dudley had become more… reserved around Harry, but for once in his life, Harry found he didn't care all that much. What use was it being pleased about it if Voldemort was out on the loose?
A plate of roast, carrots and mashed potatoes was set down in front of him. Harry started to eat slowly, not tasting any of the food placed in front of him. If he had so much as looked at his aunt, he would've seen that she had a deep - something in her eyes. In was a mixture of pity, fear and understanding. The next instant, it was gone and she sat down next to her husband.
"So Duddykins, what are you planning on doing for the rest of the summer?" asked Aunt Petunia cheerfully, eyeing her son. "I do hope you'll bring your friends over here for tea more often. I would so like to know them better! They seem like such nice young fellows."
"Come now Petunia, the lad's a man now!" said Uncle Vernon, chuckling a bit. "He wants to be out in the world, not staying cooped up at home!"
"At least he gets to go out into the world," Harry muttered darkly, jabbing his roast with his fork.
Uncle Vernon bristled angrily. "Now see here boy, we let you stay in this house, even with this Voldywart person after you! Besides, we're not even the ones who made the confounded rule of no going outside; it was that crackpot fool of blasted school, so don't you be giving us that attitude!"
Harry said nothing, but glowered at his uncle. Though he was quite angry with Dumbledore for numerous reasons, he still thought that the Headmaster did have his best wishes at heart. But then again, he had had Sirius' best wishes at heart, and this is exactly how Sirius' predicament had started out…
There was a long silence at the table, until Aunt Petunia finally cleared her throat. "Err, if you don't mind me asking Harry, how is the situation with um, Voldemort going?" The last part came out as a whisper, and Harry could tell that she was trying to seem nonchalant. Uncle Vernon gaped at her.
"Oh, he's peachy! He's already killed two people in front of me and now I learned that I'm the only one that can kill him! Isn't that smashing?" Harry said with both bitterness and sarcasm. The Dursleys all avoided his eyes, Dudley out of fear, Uncle Vernon because he wanted nothing to do with the boy, and Aunt Petunia, for another reason altogether. "I'm done," muttered Harry, getting up to leave.
"Now see here -!" started Uncle Vernon, he too standing up, who seemed ready to give Harry a piece of his mind. A hand on his arm stopped him. He looked down to see Petunia mutely shake her head. Frowning darkly, Uncle Vernon sat back down and stuffed a forkful of carrots in his mouth and began chewing loudly.
Standing there, wondering what on earth had happened, Harry just looked at his aunt in amazement. Sensing his gaze, she turned and gave him a pointed glare that clearly told him to go upstairs. Taking the hint, Harry nodded to her and walked out of the kitchen just as he heard Uncle Vernon bark loudly, "Why on earth are you standing up for the boy Petunia?"
That was a good question! Normally, Aunt Petunia would have been treating them exactly like the others did - as if he didn't exist or as if he was something particularly fowl and disgusting. This promised to be an interesting eaves drop.
"Really Vernon, there's no reason!" The sound of a chair scraping back from the table was heard and Harry could only imagine that Aunt Petunia had stood up. There was a short pause, then a sigh from his aunt. "Vernon, you can't possibly understand what Voldemort is like. He killed hundreds, perhaps thousands of people with one - one swish or something of that sort! Now, I am the only blood relative of that boy, and he is my sister's son, and though I may not like nor love him, I think I owe it to him to be at least a smidge nice. Did you not see the dead look in his eyes when he returned from his - his school?"
"Petunia, I still see no reason to treat him so well! His kind are all freaks! We shouldn't mingle with people like that! Having him in the house is a liability in itself! What if this evil fellow decides to come and kill us?" Another sound of a chair scraping back, signalling Uncle Vernon had stood up as well.
"That won't happen."
"And how do you know that? He could burst in through that door and kill us all with some hocus pocus!" roared Uncle Vernon, banging his fist on the table.
"Damn it Vernon! Can't you take my word on something for once?" cried Aunt Petunia angrily.
Harry figured this would probably be the time to dart back to his room. His instincts proved to be correct, for as soon as he closed his bedroom door, he heard Aunt Petunia rush upstairs and slam her bedroom door. Feeling completely depressed over everything, Harry fell back on to his bed once again, staring up at the stucco ceiling. Why did everything seem to happen to him? Was he destiny's plaything?
It was that stupid prophecy's entire fault! Why did it have to be him that kills Voldemort? Why couldn't it have been Dumbledore? Dumbledore was so much more powerful than he! Why couldn't there be a prophecy about him?! Then at least he would know how it felt.
There was a tapping on his window. He looked up to see Hedwig tapping at the window in an irritated way. Getting up, he opened the window and Hedwig flew in and settled on his desk. She stuck out her leg. On it was a letter and a package. This was puzzling. His birthday wasn't for another week. Odd.
Giving Hedwig an affectionate pat, Harry untied the package. Inside was a letter… from Dumbledore.
Dear Harry
I trust your summer has been unexciting. I also believe that you are quite upset by the fact that you are not permitted to leave your Uncle and Aunt's residence. It is for the best. Voldemort is gaining in both power and followers, and if you were to leave the protection of your mother's blood, it could be disastrous for both you and the wizarding world. The Ministry itself is having a difficult time trying to capture Death Eaters. Many lives have been lost, and I'm afraid only more shall be before the war is finished. They are having a field day trying to keep all the murders out of the muggle news. Which brings me to my next point. In the package I have enclosed a journal. I want you to write down all your feelings, all the emotions you've kept inside and anything else that might interest you. It would not be wise to keep them bottle up.
Have no fear. Things will get better.
- A. Dumbledore.
Anger filled Harry. He had no idea how Harry was feeling! Was he ever a fifteen (almost sixteen) year old who had to save the entire world? Somehow, Harry didn't think so. He opened up the package to find a green leather bound journal. Raising an eyebrow at it, he realized Dumbledore was probably right. He really shouldn't keep everything inside, and seeing as he had also been forbidden to owl anyone as the letters might be intercepted and or they might pin point the location of his whereabouts, that's exactly what Harry had been doing.
The question was: where to start? So much had happened in the last few months, it was mind-boggling: Umbridge, Voldemort, Sirius and so on and so forth. Well, perhaps he should just start at the beginning.
July 24th
My name is Harry Potter. My story starts out one fateful night when…
A/N: How was it? Good? Bad? Horrible? I hope it wasn't the last one. In my opinion, I think I got most of the characters well, in character, except for perhaps Petunia, but hey! I have an explanation coming. Oh, and please note that the chapters will get longer starting with the next one. These first three were basically fillers or whatever. ^_^;; Anyways, see you all next chapter!
