Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe- we just live in
it. Don't sue me.
Problem Solved
"My Lord, I have new information for you on the activities of the Order of the Phoenix," stated a hooded man kneeling on the floor on a rug in front of a high-backed green and silver chair. The person sitting in the chair replied in a high icy cold hissing voice, "What are Dumbledore and his pathetic followers doing now Severus?" Before the man was able to give his reply however, the door to the room burst open and a short balding man with the look of a rat about him came running into the room. "My Lord, I have solved all of your problems," cried the man flinging himself to the ground at the foot of the chair. "I have figured out how to solve the problem of the Potter boy forever!" Severus snapped to attention with these words, turning to face the small man bowing to the floor in front of his master.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was a bright sunny day outside number 4 Privet Drive and all of the inhabitants were outside manicuring their well kept lawns, and washing their large, expensive cars. Well, almost all. Harry Potter was lying on his bed looking at the ceiling trying his hardest not to think. He had his curtains tightly closed, and his light off. He had spent a good majority of his first two weeks of summer holiday in this state. Harry was not like other boys. All of the other boys in the neighborhood were outside riding their expensive racing bikes, or terrorizing the younger children. As his hunger finally got the better of him, Harry stood up and glanced at his clock out of mere habit. His clock said that it was only 10:00 AM, but his stomach was telling him other wise. His stomach was reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, yesterday. Other then going to the bathroom and getting food when it was absolutely necessary, he had so for managed to completely avoid the Durleys.
Harry reluctantly crossed his small room towards his closet to find a clean shirt. He reached in, clumsily pushing aside his Firebolt broomstick –trying not to look at it and pulled out one of Dudley's old hand-me-downs. The Firebolt being the one thing that he still had left from his Godfather and the only clue in the room that Harry was not like the other inhabitances of Number 4, Privet Drive.
Harry had been desperately trying to block out the thoughts of the last few months, years even. In his failing attempt he had hid all other reminders of the world he belonged to under the stairs, but had eventually accepted the fact that the international quality broomstick wouldn't fit and would have to be stored in his room. He pulled on the T-shirt and opened the door, glancing back at the open window and empty owl cage; he hadn't seen Hedwig in four days, but wasn't worried. Turing back through the door he trudged down the stairs to see if there was anything edible in the fridge besides Dudley's low fat snacks. As Harry passed the front door, it opened, and his uncle and cousin walked in. Harry ignored them and continued over to the fridge. As he opened the fridge door, thinking to him self, his uncle's booming voice brought him jolting back to reality.
"What do you think you are doing boy!?"
"Just getting something to eat Uncle Vernon," he replied, not caring what his uncle said next.
"It's only 10 in the morning, you can't have anything to eat for another two hours, when it is actually lunch time," his uncle hollered at him, his face slowly turning a putrid shade of purple, as it always did when Harry did something that was not to his liking.
"But I didn't have breakfast this morning," said Harry, as his stomach growled a reminder of it's own.
As he said this, Dudley walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of soda and a sandwich.
"It was your own choice not to eat this morning, and your Aunt and I will not be feeding you whenever you please. You will eat when you are given food, and will be grateful, or you won't eat at all." Just as Harry was about to reply in protest, a large tawny owl swooped in through the open window, and dropped a letter at his feet. It then flew once around the room and left through the window.
"I thought we were through with the bloody owls!" hollered Uncle Vernon, swelling to twice his normal size. Harry, sensing that his uncle was on the breaking point, grabbed his letter, and ran out of the room. He ran back up the stairs, and into his room. He locked his door, and flopped onto the bed. He looked at the letter, and realized with a jolt, that it was from Dumbledore himself...
Thanks for reading. Please review, any and all thoughts and criticisms are welcomed.
it. Don't sue me.
Problem Solved
"My Lord, I have new information for you on the activities of the Order of the Phoenix," stated a hooded man kneeling on the floor on a rug in front of a high-backed green and silver chair. The person sitting in the chair replied in a high icy cold hissing voice, "What are Dumbledore and his pathetic followers doing now Severus?" Before the man was able to give his reply however, the door to the room burst open and a short balding man with the look of a rat about him came running into the room. "My Lord, I have solved all of your problems," cried the man flinging himself to the ground at the foot of the chair. "I have figured out how to solve the problem of the Potter boy forever!" Severus snapped to attention with these words, turning to face the small man bowing to the floor in front of his master.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was a bright sunny day outside number 4 Privet Drive and all of the inhabitants were outside manicuring their well kept lawns, and washing their large, expensive cars. Well, almost all. Harry Potter was lying on his bed looking at the ceiling trying his hardest not to think. He had his curtains tightly closed, and his light off. He had spent a good majority of his first two weeks of summer holiday in this state. Harry was not like other boys. All of the other boys in the neighborhood were outside riding their expensive racing bikes, or terrorizing the younger children. As his hunger finally got the better of him, Harry stood up and glanced at his clock out of mere habit. His clock said that it was only 10:00 AM, but his stomach was telling him other wise. His stomach was reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, yesterday. Other then going to the bathroom and getting food when it was absolutely necessary, he had so for managed to completely avoid the Durleys.
Harry reluctantly crossed his small room towards his closet to find a clean shirt. He reached in, clumsily pushing aside his Firebolt broomstick –trying not to look at it and pulled out one of Dudley's old hand-me-downs. The Firebolt being the one thing that he still had left from his Godfather and the only clue in the room that Harry was not like the other inhabitances of Number 4, Privet Drive.
Harry had been desperately trying to block out the thoughts of the last few months, years even. In his failing attempt he had hid all other reminders of the world he belonged to under the stairs, but had eventually accepted the fact that the international quality broomstick wouldn't fit and would have to be stored in his room. He pulled on the T-shirt and opened the door, glancing back at the open window and empty owl cage; he hadn't seen Hedwig in four days, but wasn't worried. Turing back through the door he trudged down the stairs to see if there was anything edible in the fridge besides Dudley's low fat snacks. As Harry passed the front door, it opened, and his uncle and cousin walked in. Harry ignored them and continued over to the fridge. As he opened the fridge door, thinking to him self, his uncle's booming voice brought him jolting back to reality.
"What do you think you are doing boy!?"
"Just getting something to eat Uncle Vernon," he replied, not caring what his uncle said next.
"It's only 10 in the morning, you can't have anything to eat for another two hours, when it is actually lunch time," his uncle hollered at him, his face slowly turning a putrid shade of purple, as it always did when Harry did something that was not to his liking.
"But I didn't have breakfast this morning," said Harry, as his stomach growled a reminder of it's own.
As he said this, Dudley walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of soda and a sandwich.
"It was your own choice not to eat this morning, and your Aunt and I will not be feeding you whenever you please. You will eat when you are given food, and will be grateful, or you won't eat at all." Just as Harry was about to reply in protest, a large tawny owl swooped in through the open window, and dropped a letter at his feet. It then flew once around the room and left through the window.
"I thought we were through with the bloody owls!" hollered Uncle Vernon, swelling to twice his normal size. Harry, sensing that his uncle was on the breaking point, grabbed his letter, and ran out of the room. He ran back up the stairs, and into his room. He locked his door, and flopped onto the bed. He looked at the letter, and realized with a jolt, that it was from Dumbledore himself...
Thanks for reading. Please review, any and all thoughts and criticisms are welcomed.