Everything was normal in the town of Little Surrey, the summer was one of
the hottest in a long while when you saw children outside, they where
laying around under sprinklers and doing anything to keep cool.
One young boy in particular had been seen working outside almost every day. He was of average height with uncontrollable black hair and piercing green eyes. This is where our story begins, with a young boy who has faced the troubles not even people twice his age have been forced to see. He is the savior of the secret wizarding world. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.
As of the moment he is de-weeding his aunt's garden.
"Dumb woman, making me do all the work while that lazy cow sits inside watching TV," he murmured as he pulled a long weed from the plants.
His clothes were dirty and torn, his face and hands were covered with sweat and soil, his green eyes were glaring at the weeds. The most remarkable thing was the lightning shaped scar that was covered in dirt along with the rest of his face.
A tall, long-necked woman stuck her head out of the window and yelled, "Hurry it up, boy, Mrs. Figg wants you to help her grocery shopping." She disappeared back inside, closing the window and shades.
He groaned but hid a small smile, knowing that his old babysitter was really a
Squib, a non-magical person born to a magical family, who was helping watch over him for the Order.
He hurriedly finished de-weeding knowing full well that tomorrow he would probably have to replant it and then paint the fence surrounding it. Wiping his feet, he hurried in and up the stairs where he cleaned up as much as he could before heading downstairs to tell his aunt he was leaving.
How he hated the perfectly clean house of his only living relatives. However, despite that and the fact it was hot and the work was hard, he enjoyed it because it took his mind of the death of his godfather, Sirius Black, who was one of his parents' old school friends. His parents had been murdered by the dark wizard who now hunted him.
He sighed as he made his way down the street where, despite the weather, yards were kept perfectly cut and the cars a sparkling clean. This was one of the things he most dreaded about summer besides his hellish family, if you could even call the Dursleys his family.
The door opened as he made his way up the drive of Arabella Figg's home. The kind old lady stood there and motioned him inside.
"Hello, Harry dear, good to see you," she said, "My it has been one hot summer."
"It's good to see you too, Mrs. Figg," he replied, "My aunt said you wanted some help."
The old lady smiled and said, "Actually I wanted to see you because Dumbledore has decided that you need a private tutor so to say, who will help you with magic and any skills you think you need help on. They'll be around sometime tommorow. Albus has written to your relatives to inform them of this." She took deep breath and then continued, "As of now I wish you would stay and have some tea and ask any questions you have."
With this she took a seat and motioned him forward. He sat and thanked her then asked, "Who will my tutor be, do you know?"
"No, Harry dear, Albus did not say but I would tell you if I knew," she replied kindly while fixing both of them a glass of tea.
"Thank you, Mrs. Figg," he replied and they sat drinking tea until Harry said he had to go and with a quick goodbye he was gone.
By the time he left it had gotten dark and he walked down the street looking around and savoring the peacefulness that surrounded Little Surrey. He couldn't help but let this mind wander to the upcoming war.
Wizard against wizard, light against dark. Along with these thoughts came the questions about this tutor he was supposed to be taught by. Mainly there was who would it be, but then the question how would they be able to help if he couldn't do magic out of school.
His feet led him back to Number Four where he returned upstairs and fell asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow.
His dreams were clouded by images of the war to come and the shadow tutor who would come sometime tommorow. Boy would his relatives be happy - a grown wizard in their house, teaching magic. In his sleep, he grinned at the thought of the Dursleys' horror at the realization that magic was being taught in their *normal* house. For the first time in a long while, Harry Potter recieved a peaceful sleep, imagining the mornign to come.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------
A/N: This is but the beginning of the tale to come. Review, share your thoughts, critism, and all else.
As always,
The Flame Of Shadow
One young boy in particular had been seen working outside almost every day. He was of average height with uncontrollable black hair and piercing green eyes. This is where our story begins, with a young boy who has faced the troubles not even people twice his age have been forced to see. He is the savior of the secret wizarding world. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.
As of the moment he is de-weeding his aunt's garden.
"Dumb woman, making me do all the work while that lazy cow sits inside watching TV," he murmured as he pulled a long weed from the plants.
His clothes were dirty and torn, his face and hands were covered with sweat and soil, his green eyes were glaring at the weeds. The most remarkable thing was the lightning shaped scar that was covered in dirt along with the rest of his face.
A tall, long-necked woman stuck her head out of the window and yelled, "Hurry it up, boy, Mrs. Figg wants you to help her grocery shopping." She disappeared back inside, closing the window and shades.
He groaned but hid a small smile, knowing that his old babysitter was really a
Squib, a non-magical person born to a magical family, who was helping watch over him for the Order.
He hurriedly finished de-weeding knowing full well that tomorrow he would probably have to replant it and then paint the fence surrounding it. Wiping his feet, he hurried in and up the stairs where he cleaned up as much as he could before heading downstairs to tell his aunt he was leaving.
How he hated the perfectly clean house of his only living relatives. However, despite that and the fact it was hot and the work was hard, he enjoyed it because it took his mind of the death of his godfather, Sirius Black, who was one of his parents' old school friends. His parents had been murdered by the dark wizard who now hunted him.
He sighed as he made his way down the street where, despite the weather, yards were kept perfectly cut and the cars a sparkling clean. This was one of the things he most dreaded about summer besides his hellish family, if you could even call the Dursleys his family.
The door opened as he made his way up the drive of Arabella Figg's home. The kind old lady stood there and motioned him inside.
"Hello, Harry dear, good to see you," she said, "My it has been one hot summer."
"It's good to see you too, Mrs. Figg," he replied, "My aunt said you wanted some help."
The old lady smiled and said, "Actually I wanted to see you because Dumbledore has decided that you need a private tutor so to say, who will help you with magic and any skills you think you need help on. They'll be around sometime tommorow. Albus has written to your relatives to inform them of this." She took deep breath and then continued, "As of now I wish you would stay and have some tea and ask any questions you have."
With this she took a seat and motioned him forward. He sat and thanked her then asked, "Who will my tutor be, do you know?"
"No, Harry dear, Albus did not say but I would tell you if I knew," she replied kindly while fixing both of them a glass of tea.
"Thank you, Mrs. Figg," he replied and they sat drinking tea until Harry said he had to go and with a quick goodbye he was gone.
By the time he left it had gotten dark and he walked down the street looking around and savoring the peacefulness that surrounded Little Surrey. He couldn't help but let this mind wander to the upcoming war.
Wizard against wizard, light against dark. Along with these thoughts came the questions about this tutor he was supposed to be taught by. Mainly there was who would it be, but then the question how would they be able to help if he couldn't do magic out of school.
His feet led him back to Number Four where he returned upstairs and fell asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow.
His dreams were clouded by images of the war to come and the shadow tutor who would come sometime tommorow. Boy would his relatives be happy - a grown wizard in their house, teaching magic. In his sleep, he grinned at the thought of the Dursleys' horror at the realization that magic was being taught in their *normal* house. For the first time in a long while, Harry Potter recieved a peaceful sleep, imagining the mornign to come.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------------------
A/N: This is but the beginning of the tale to come. Review, share your thoughts, critism, and all else.
As always,
The Flame Of Shadow