PS..this fan fic is rated R for some violence, sexual content, drug use
and adult situations.
Chapter Three~The History of the Boy-who-lived
Harry had finished his breakfast, and was on his way to go back up to Gryffindor Tower to change his shirt. If it wasn't for Ron, Harry wouldn't have noticed the large amount of strawberry jelly on his white shirt. He wasn't talking, just walking silently among the corridors and all he could think about was Mollie and Demra. How he fancied them both. He didn't know too much about Demra, and he thought that maybe he should ask Malfoy about her. But he couldn't, seeing as Malfoy hates Harry more than mudbloods, and that-is a strong feeling of hate. Harry didn't think it was because of who he was personally, Harry knew it was because of the Malfoy family. Draco's father, Lucius, is, of course a death-eater or a follower of Voldemort;the person who brutally murdered his parents and of course, tried to kill him. Everybody saw Harry as the boy-who-lived. The famous Harry Potter. Over the years Harry had gotten so annoyed with the names people associated him with, and the sort-of nicknames they gave him. He just wanted to get revenge on the person who had kill this blood, his family, the two people whom he never remembers. Not even a murmur in his mind. All he has is tainted photographs of his parents dancing and holding him when he was a baby. He had never heard their voices, talking to him specifically. He only heard their screams and whimpers for help in his third year at Hogwarts, when he was learning to fight off Azkaban's dementors, which raided the school in a failing attempt to locate Siruis Black. He had infact, met Sirius Black, who had betrayed his own parents. He led to believe that he was unworthy of being their secret-keeper, so he pleaded with them to make Peter Pettigrew take his job. They accepted and in the end, Pettigrew had been infact, working for Voldemort, and made sure that the Potter's and their son would be killed. Voldemort tried only the Avada Kedavra, one of the curses which the Ministry of Magic labed 'Unforgivable Curses', and succeeded in killing Lily and James Potter. He did try infact to kill Harry, and his attempt failed horribly, when Harry lived, and only a cursed lightning bolt scar appeared on his head.
Harry turned to the Fat Lady's portait guarding the way into Gryffindor Tower. "Pine Blush." He said and the portait flew open, revealing a brightly lit room filled with festive colors of red and orange. Nobody was sitting in the common room, which surprised Harry because usually somebody skipped breakfast to finish some sort of homework for one of the demanding teachers. He walked up the steps to the boy's dormitory and over to his trunk. He opened the lock and pulled the trunk open, grabbing a new shirt. He unbuttoned the one he was wearing, and took it off, revealing his midriff. He put the shirt on as he walked down the steps. He buttoned it quickly and made his way to the library to apologize to Mollie.
Chapter Three~The History of the Boy-who-lived
Harry had finished his breakfast, and was on his way to go back up to Gryffindor Tower to change his shirt. If it wasn't for Ron, Harry wouldn't have noticed the large amount of strawberry jelly on his white shirt. He wasn't talking, just walking silently among the corridors and all he could think about was Mollie and Demra. How he fancied them both. He didn't know too much about Demra, and he thought that maybe he should ask Malfoy about her. But he couldn't, seeing as Malfoy hates Harry more than mudbloods, and that-is a strong feeling of hate. Harry didn't think it was because of who he was personally, Harry knew it was because of the Malfoy family. Draco's father, Lucius, is, of course a death-eater or a follower of Voldemort;the person who brutally murdered his parents and of course, tried to kill him. Everybody saw Harry as the boy-who-lived. The famous Harry Potter. Over the years Harry had gotten so annoyed with the names people associated him with, and the sort-of nicknames they gave him. He just wanted to get revenge on the person who had kill this blood, his family, the two people whom he never remembers. Not even a murmur in his mind. All he has is tainted photographs of his parents dancing and holding him when he was a baby. He had never heard their voices, talking to him specifically. He only heard their screams and whimpers for help in his third year at Hogwarts, when he was learning to fight off Azkaban's dementors, which raided the school in a failing attempt to locate Siruis Black. He had infact, met Sirius Black, who had betrayed his own parents. He led to believe that he was unworthy of being their secret-keeper, so he pleaded with them to make Peter Pettigrew take his job. They accepted and in the end, Pettigrew had been infact, working for Voldemort, and made sure that the Potter's and their son would be killed. Voldemort tried only the Avada Kedavra, one of the curses which the Ministry of Magic labed 'Unforgivable Curses', and succeeded in killing Lily and James Potter. He did try infact to kill Harry, and his attempt failed horribly, when Harry lived, and only a cursed lightning bolt scar appeared on his head.
Harry turned to the Fat Lady's portait guarding the way into Gryffindor Tower. "Pine Blush." He said and the portait flew open, revealing a brightly lit room filled with festive colors of red and orange. Nobody was sitting in the common room, which surprised Harry because usually somebody skipped breakfast to finish some sort of homework for one of the demanding teachers. He walked up the steps to the boy's dormitory and over to his trunk. He opened the lock and pulled the trunk open, grabbing a new shirt. He unbuttoned the one he was wearing, and took it off, revealing his midriff. He put the shirt on as he walked down the steps. He buttoned it quickly and made his way to the library to apologize to Mollie.