Chapter 1: AHHH! Pointy Ears!

The night of July 30th found 15 year old Harry Potter, wizard, and Boy-Who-Lived hard at work on a school essay in his small bedroom in number 4 Privet Drive. Now, this essay was for Harry's least favorite class, Potions. And it's not like he wasn't good at it, or didn't enjoy brewing them, he did, belive it or not, but because of it's greasy git of a professor, Serverus Snape. He's had it out for Harry since his first year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the most famous wizarding school in all of Europe.

His first class with Snape, before they had even properly met, Snape was horrible to him. What 11 year old child knows that monkshood, wolfsbane and aconite were the same thing? That was 3rd year material! The reason that Harry washatedwas that Harry's father James had saved Snape's life. Weird reason to hate someone's son, but that's why, apparently. Harry's not entirely sure that's the whole reason, but that's what Headmaster Albus Dumbledore told him.

Anyway, Harry was trying to do this essay, albeit unsuccessfully. This was partly because he had written everything there was to write about the Draught of the Living Dead, also something that Snape asked him about his first class, yet Snape still wanted 2 more feet of writing! Totally unfair! The other reason was because he was worried about Voldemort, the Dark Lord.

Voldemort has many alias', such as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who or his given name of Tom Marvolo Riddle, yet few know of that last one. He is a vindictive, evil, hypocritical and somewhat insane individual who is hell bent on killing Harry. They have a connection through the lightning bolt shaped scar given to Harry at the age of one by the Dark Lord himself when he unsuccessfully tried to kill Harry using the killing curse, one of the reasons Voldemort wants him dead, since the spell backfired and left him weak and bodiless for 13 years. His scar is what was bothering Harry right now.

Usually, it tingled or burned Harry whenever Voldemort was feeling especially emotional, the scar, that is, but it hadn't all summer, not since Voldemort himself had touched it that night, in the graveyard, when he had been reborn.

The graveyard. The memory of that night still plagued Harry, and he blamed the death of one Cedric Diggory on himself. If he hadn't demanded Cedric take the cup with him, only Harry would have been taken to Voldemort, and Cedric would have been alive today. At least, that's what Harry kept telling himself. And that was one of the reasons Harry's mental state was deteriorating so rapidly. Because of this attitude, he had been having nightmares all summer, dreams of Cedric yelling at him, blaming Harry for his death, and of Sirius falling through the veil at the Department of Mysteries. Not that he did, of course. He missed falling in by about an inch.

Now Harry was worried that he had found a way to block their scar connection, not allowing Harry to know what he was up to. He was also worring about his last visit to his damnable headmaster's office. He again asked the old codger why Voldemort killed his parents, and why he keeps trying to kill him, but the old man refused to tell him, saying that he was too young! He also forced Harry to go back to his aunt and uncle's house. All damn summer! So Harry promised himself to hate the man he used to think of as his very own grandfather forever. Or atleast till he apologized and told him why... And gave him a lemon drop. Harry became somewhat of an addict once he tried some earlier this summer.

The other reason he was deteriorating was that he was still being treated like a slave by his rotten 'family', if you could call them that. Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley, Harry's uncle, aunt and cousin. Harry's mother, Lily's sister was Harry's Aunt Petunia. That whole family had a great dislike of magic. Well, Vernon despised it, Petunia was more jealous of it and Dudley was frightened of it ever since Hagrid had came to Harry on his 11th birthday to tell him of his magical abilities, and gave Dudley a pig's tail. Now, whenever a fully fledged wizard or witch was around, Dudley scurried from the room holding hid bottom. Hilarious!

And so, Harry had decided to call it quits for that night, to get a good night's sleep and try again in the morning after making the Dursleys breakfast. 'Why couldn't Voldemort have just killed me when I was a child? It would have been so much simpler on everyone and Cedric would still be alive. Or better yet, if I had never been born, then my parents wouldn't have died either and Sirius wouldn't have had to spend 12 years in Azkaban prison.' Those were Harry's awful thoughts as he put his quill and parchment into his trunk at the foot of his bed. The Sirius Harry was talking about was Sirius Black, his godfather and escaped convict. He had been having a lot of these suicidal thoughts lately. He was, sadly, planning on killing himself ifit got any worse. 'I can't take it any more.'

He slipped out of his clothes, leaving only his boxers on, put his glasses on his bedside table, next to his clock and slid into the bed. Just as he was starting to nod off, a white light enveloped him and pain seared through his nearly naked body. The last thing he saw before the pain became too much and he fell into blissful unconsciousness, was that the clock next to his bed said 12:00 midnight, July 31st. Harry's birthday.

Groaning, Harry sat up in bed, feeling as if he got hit by 40 trucks at once. Sore all over. He wondered why he was feeling like this, but he got up and, deciding to ignore it for a while and take a shower before the Dursleys got up, since it was 6:30 and they got up around 7, he went into the bathroom.

As he passed the mirror, he noticed something: He wasn't wearing his glasses! 'But how can that be, I'm almost blind without them, aren't I? And wait! I'm taller too! And more muscular! What the bloody hell is going on? Wait, does it have to do with that light from last ni- WHAT THE HELL!!!!!!!'

With that, Harry stumbled backwards, feeling as if he was going to faint. What he saw in the mirror was the cause of this his second fainting spell (no pun intended) of the day. He saw that his ears had changed. His last conscious thought was before fainting was: 'I have pointy ears!'

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A/N: Hope you liked my first chapter. Please review and give me some constructive feedback. Thanks.

That's just about it for now.

Lord-Deos

Jan. 02, 2005 - Fixed her up. 6th year now. Review please!

L-D