Gone with the night
Disclaimer: All the characters mentioned below belong to J.K. Rowling, only some belong to me and me alone and if you find some well known songs in there or some lines from other movies, I simply MUST say that they don't belong to me either. So, now that I've completed the stuupid task of admitting...well, what I've just said, I think it's time to get the party started.
CHAPTER 1
Harry Potter was back at Number 4 Privet Drive but something had changed dramatically. His godfather, Sirius Black was dead. Although they didn't get to spend too much time together, he felt like a part of him was missing. But, in spite of all that, Harry didn't cry. Whenever something or someone reminded him of Sirius, he would just shrug and say nothing, then change the subject. Of course, he knew that it was only for his own sanity. Besides, feelings were an impediment, now that he held the responsibility of standing up to Voldemort and, if he liked the world as we know it, he would have to defeat him. His two best friends, Ron and Hermione kept sending him letters talking about EVERYTHING and anything, if that was to keep him from thinking about the tragedy. One good thing about the whole returning-home situation was that neither of his relatives forbade him from doing anything he desired. They were still awful to live with but at least they didn't get on his case like they used to.
"Funny!" he thought to himself "I think I'm beginning to miss their annoying comments!"
Well, he didn't really, but he was very used to that way of life.
Harry spent his time going wherever he pleased. Mostly, it was at a drive- in cinema, where he saw old movies with famous Muggle actors like Clark Gable and Elizabeth Taylor, or cartoons of all kinds. He read The Daily Prophet, so he knew what was going on in HIS World, plus some extra information from all his friends.
It felt like nothing had changed. It felt like it made no difference to the World if Sirius was alive or not, if he, Harry Potter, hurt or not. So why not just let it be plagued with the horror Voldemort would bring? He asked himself, blood pressure rising.
"Because with great power comes great responsibility."
It was a line from Spiderman but it made perfect sense, so he cooled down a bit.
"Are you alright, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked him.
Harry didn't realize it, but he thought that out loud.
"Maybe they should send you to the mental hospice, if you keep talking to yourself."
But The-Boy-Who-Lived wasn't listening to his uncle. It was his birthday and he was wondering what was going to happen this time. He had received a letter, along with all the presents from everyone, from Mrs. Weasely that informed him of some sort of big surprise. However his track of thoughts was broken by the door bell.
Aunt Petunia hurried up to answer the door.
"Hello, how...EEK!" she reached out to grab the person that was on the porch and pulled whoever it was in.
Harry couldn't see the stranger's face. All he saw were a pair of biker boots, black jeans and a black, scaly, long coat, which he immediately recognized as being dragon's skin. Long, very dark red hair was flowing down the magician's back. This guy was severely undernourished! As soon as the unexpected visitor had turned around, Harry's jaw dropped.
Disclaimer: All the characters mentioned below belong to J.K. Rowling, only some belong to me and me alone and if you find some well known songs in there or some lines from other movies, I simply MUST say that they don't belong to me either. So, now that I've completed the stuupid task of admitting...well, what I've just said, I think it's time to get the party started.
CHAPTER 1
Harry Potter was back at Number 4 Privet Drive but something had changed dramatically. His godfather, Sirius Black was dead. Although they didn't get to spend too much time together, he felt like a part of him was missing. But, in spite of all that, Harry didn't cry. Whenever something or someone reminded him of Sirius, he would just shrug and say nothing, then change the subject. Of course, he knew that it was only for his own sanity. Besides, feelings were an impediment, now that he held the responsibility of standing up to Voldemort and, if he liked the world as we know it, he would have to defeat him. His two best friends, Ron and Hermione kept sending him letters talking about EVERYTHING and anything, if that was to keep him from thinking about the tragedy. One good thing about the whole returning-home situation was that neither of his relatives forbade him from doing anything he desired. They were still awful to live with but at least they didn't get on his case like they used to.
"Funny!" he thought to himself "I think I'm beginning to miss their annoying comments!"
Well, he didn't really, but he was very used to that way of life.
Harry spent his time going wherever he pleased. Mostly, it was at a drive- in cinema, where he saw old movies with famous Muggle actors like Clark Gable and Elizabeth Taylor, or cartoons of all kinds. He read The Daily Prophet, so he knew what was going on in HIS World, plus some extra information from all his friends.
It felt like nothing had changed. It felt like it made no difference to the World if Sirius was alive or not, if he, Harry Potter, hurt or not. So why not just let it be plagued with the horror Voldemort would bring? He asked himself, blood pressure rising.
"Because with great power comes great responsibility."
It was a line from Spiderman but it made perfect sense, so he cooled down a bit.
"Are you alright, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked him.
Harry didn't realize it, but he thought that out loud.
"Maybe they should send you to the mental hospice, if you keep talking to yourself."
But The-Boy-Who-Lived wasn't listening to his uncle. It was his birthday and he was wondering what was going to happen this time. He had received a letter, along with all the presents from everyone, from Mrs. Weasely that informed him of some sort of big surprise. However his track of thoughts was broken by the door bell.
Aunt Petunia hurried up to answer the door.
"Hello, how...EEK!" she reached out to grab the person that was on the porch and pulled whoever it was in.
Harry couldn't see the stranger's face. All he saw were a pair of biker boots, black jeans and a black, scaly, long coat, which he immediately recognized as being dragon's skin. Long, very dark red hair was flowing down the magician's back. This guy was severely undernourished! As soon as the unexpected visitor had turned around, Harry's jaw dropped.