Harry Potter and the Serpent's Rebellion
Disclaimer: Harry Potter=not mine
Summary: What is the reason behind Harry's uncanny resemblance to Tom Riddle? Dark secrets about his heritage are about to be uncovered...
Chapter one: Summer Sorrows
It was a sunny morning at Number four, Pivet drive. One would never expect anything unusual to be connected to the boring abode of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. However, the perfectly ordinary Dursleys held a perfectly unordinary dark secret, one that they hid desperately from the neighbors.
That secret came in the name of Harry James Potter.
For Harry James Potter was not an ordinary boy, far from it. The reason for his oddity can be seen when you look into his room. In a corner, a beautiful snowy owl was busy preening itself. In his open trunk one can catch a glimpse of a pointed hat. Harry Potter himself was immersed in a think book entitled Advanced Potions for the Over-Achiever. The reason that the Dursleys hated their nephew was for one simple fact: Harry Potter was a wizard, and to quote the half-giant Hagrid, a thumping good one at that.
At the moment, Harry Potter was not feeling particularly cheerful. His godfather, Sirius Black, had recently been killed in a battle with the deatheaters. These deatheaters were evil minions serving the dark lord, the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort.
It is because of this evil dark lord that our hero is reading the aforementioned potions book. Harry wished to become an auror, a dark wizard catcher, after graduation from Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. And to become an Auror, he had to take potions, his worst subject.
"BOY! Get yourself downstairs for breakfast!" roared Harry's uncle, Vernon Dursley. The only reason they were giving him breakfast at all could be attributed to the threats the retired auror, Mad-eye Moody growled at the Dursleys in the beginning of the summer.
Vernon glanced over the newspaper as Harry entered, about to yell at him for his unruly hair. However, Harry's hair was now sleek and smooth. His sudden changes in appearance had started on his sixteenth birthday, a week ago. Although he did not look very different, the greatest change was in his hair. It was no longer flyaway, but crisp and lay in waves perfectly on his head. His features were also sharper and chiseled.
Harry himself did not notice this, but a few muggle girls down the street certainly did. He had heard them giggling and whispering as he was working in the garden the other day. Dudley, Harry's overweight cousin, mistook their giggles and started grinning and winking at them. The girls promptly ran off in revulsion.
As the three Dursleys and Harry sat down to breakfast, the doorbell rang. "Go get the door, boy!" barked Uncle Vernon. When Harry opened the door, he stared in amazement at the sight that met him.
It was Professor Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, dressed in a brilliantly polka-dotted muggle suit. The man started slightly at Harry's changed appearance, but recovered himself quickly. "Er… Professor, what are you doing here?" Harry stammered. Realizing how rude he sounded, Harry blushed hotly and invited the man inside.
"Who is it, boy?" his uncle called from the kitchen.
"It's the headmaster of my school, Uncle Vernon."
"HOW DARE YOU INVITE PEOPLE LIKE YOU TO OUR HOME, YOU FREA…"
"That is quite enough, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore injected calmly. Some thing in Dunmbledore's gaze quenched the man, and he tried to inconspicuously shield his wife and son. "Harry, if you would show me to a private place where we can talk?"
Dumbledore followed Harry to his room and sat down on a chair. His piercing blue eyes observed Harry's now manly face and smooth hair, but Harry sensed something troubling the headmaster. Seeming to wave this aside, he addressed Harry in a voice of forced cheerfulness. "Now Harry, the reason that I wanted to talk to you is because of the will Sirius left behind."
Immediately, the black-haired youth's expression became closed and expressionless, but on a closer observation, deep pain and anger could be seen in his eyes. "I don't want his money or his house, the order can have it," came the dull response.
"Now Harry, Sirius made you his heir, and all the Black land and inheritance is now yours." Dumbledore's voice was calm and gently persuasive. "Sirius would want you to accept what he left you and move on with your life."
"A life that he was never allowed to have, because his life was wasted in a prison! First, he is wrongly sent to Azkaban. Then, when he breaks out of this nightmare, YOU LOCK HIM IN A HOUSE THAT HE HATED!" Harry turned away, his shoulders heaving in barely suppressed emotion. "And I never got to say that I loved him, or that I would always see him as the father that I never had." Harry wearily sat on his bed. "He was my closest thing to a real family."
"He thought of you the same way, Harry. Sirius was prouder of you than you could ever imagine." Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. "I will be handling the will. Enjoy the rest of the summer, Harry."
Dumbledore rose slowly from the bed. "I must go now, there is some business that I must attend to." He gave Harry's changed features one last meditative look, and with a pop, disapparated.
As Dumbledore sat back behind his desk, he dropped his head wearily into his hands. "It is as I feared," he murmured quietly to himself.
A/N: Uh oh, what is it that Dumbledore is afraid of? Guesses and suggestions are welcome! My first fic, so please review!