Harry Potter and his Angst-Filled Life
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter… or whatever you're supposed to put in a disclaimer.
Chapter One:
Harry Potter had received a letter. "At last," he exclaimed, and walked across the room to where Hedwig stood, perched on the outside ledge of his bedroom window. He opened it and she flew inside immediately. Harry sat on his bed with her, took off the letter, and untied it. What awaited him wasn't what he had hoped for.
Dear Harry,
I hate you. Never talk to me again, you big, fat loser. Gosh, who do you think you are, 'The Chose One'? What's that all about? Leave me alone, fool. I don't want to be your friend anymore, you baby. You're a git. You're a foolhardy menace, Harry Potter. Jeez, you fat lump. Go back to your home on whore island.
From, Ron Weasley
Wow, that was a lot of angst, thought Harry as he scrolled up the letter. Well, now he was feeling kind of sad. So instead, he lighted the letter on fire. Then he kicked a hole right through the wall. He proceded to attack his desk, then throw rocks at his door, and even write bad words on his bed sheets. Then he calmed down. Ah, how could he have lost control like that? Well, that was that. He was no longer friends with Ron.
Now what to do? Harry decided he must be getting hungry, and that was what had made him act with such angst. So he traveled downstairs to the kitchen. Once he had entered, he found his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and cousin Dudley all sitting around the table. "What do you want, you horrible scumbag?" his uncle roared, the moment the door snapped shut behind him. "Food," answered Harry, indifferent to his uncles hatred tone of voice. "Fine, but don't dirty up the kitchen with your grimy hands and ugly feet and slimy hair," his aunt told him. Harry had has enough. "SHUT UP," he roared at his aunt. "NO!" his aunt yelled back. Harry picked up the toaster and threw it with all his force. It went flying through the air and right through the kitchen window too. Glass flew all over the table, where the family was sitting. "Teach you to mess with me," said Harry, and walked out of the room without any food.
What a bad day Harry was having. He might as well steal some money from the Dursely's and go to a nearby restraunt to eat- it didn't seem like he'd be getting any food from the Dursley's kitchen. So that's exactly what he did.
Harry quickly went up to his aunt and uncle's room, where he saw aunt Petunia's purse sitting neatly on the bed. He grabbed three 50 pound notes, equal to around 267 American dollars. And then without a sound, he strode out the front door and hopped into the drivers seat of his uncle's brand new car. He would just have to go on a little joy-ride. Harry had grabbed the keys while upstairs and jammed them into the ignition. He turned the key and sped off into the night before the Dursley's could do anything about it. The sun was just falling behind the horizon, and a horrible greenish- orange color fell across the sky. "PERFECT!" Harry yelled angrily, as he noticed this. "Ruin the one thing that makes me happy- the sunset." And with that, he cried all the way until he got to Burger King.
He grabbed his aunt's money, pocketed the car's keys, and walked, hunched-over and depressed, into the restraunt. He found a table by himself, in the corner and ordered three hamburgers. Harry looked around. In the corner above him were great, ugly spiderwebs. And under the table were crumbs. Just peachy, he thought and slammed his fists into the table. After he had a quiet meal, he put the rest of the money into his shoe- he wasn't going to return it. And out in the parking lot, he met another surprise.
It was Ron. Leaning against a red porshe, with four veela-looking girls all around him, feeding him grapes, and fanning him in the summer heat. "Oi, Potter!" he yelled. Harry stopped in his track and weeled around. Ron was pointing a silvery metal something at him. It took him a moment to realize Ron had a gun. "Blimey," he said hoarseley to himself. "I want to kill you," Ron said. Good thing the parking lot was empty, or their would have been police on the scene in less than thirty seconds. Harry could handle this himself. But he had no gun, and he didn't want to be sent to Azkaban, for using his wand in a muggle-populated area. Ao instead he lunged at Ron. He beat him up pretty good. By the time the fight was over, Ron was unconsious, with a broken arm, bloody lip, black eye, and scratched all down his arms and legs. Possibly a broken rib too. All of his girls had fled. Harry pocketed the gun and drove away. "Teach him to mess with me," he muttered.
When he got back to the Dursley's, they were waiting for him on the porch. His aunt and uncle immediately started screeching at him and his uncle even raised a fist. But Harry just pointed the gun and they were soon out of his way. He went inside and up to his room, fuming. He hated the world. With that final thought, he fell asleep.