Copyright Lokota-Jones Harry Potter and Chirma's Fire All Harry Potter Paraphenelia owned by JK Rowling. So don't sue me please.

Harry Potter and Chiram's Fire

Chapter 1

Harry Potter was your average young man, living in an average home, in by far the most average neighborhood in Britain; except for one small hitch. He was a wizard. He wasn't just a wizard. He was the most eligible, famous, and possibly richest of all wizards, but that wasn't what made him famous. It was his ability too thwart the Dark Lord since he was a baby that made him a living legend. Not that Harry had ever asked to be the savior of muggle and wizards alike, but it was his job and had been since the events that had transpired beginning on his eleventh birthday. That was when Harry found out, he was no longer average, nor even above average, but he was one of a kind.
Most who knew Harry's story felt pity for the boy, but too Harry pain and suffering were an everyday occurrence and the world offered little in reprieve. Harry was finding that out at the moment as his cousin, Dudley, was showing Harry some of his new skills he picked up during boxing tournaments at school.
CRAAACK, "That was for sicking the Dementies on me you freak!" The voice echoed down Privet Drive as Dudley's meaty fist connected with Harry's jaw.
Harry barely had time too brace himself before the onslaught began. He knew fully well that he was in a very volatile situation, not only within the microcosm of his life, but with the entire macrocosm of the wizarding world! "Please Dudley, reconsider what your doing, before you force me too protect mysel-", Harry was cut short as another blow landed square in his gut,
"That was for for being a queer git and moaning about your boyfriend Cedric every night!" The phrase was Dudley's new war cry.
Harry slumped too his knee's, gasping for breath. "Being beaten up is old hat. At least he can't use the Cruciatus Curse," thought Harry before realizing that Dudley had screamed and was attempting too rush into the house. But then he stood paralyzed. "Great, what did I do now? I'm gonna be in a mess for this tripe; underage magick and this time against a muggle! I can see the headlines now. 'Harry Potter Out of Control,'" Harry gasped to himself between breaths.
"Behaving well is one thing boy, but allowing ones self too get roughed up is another. You should of socked the prat square in the jaw! I stunned him. He wont be beating the 'Boy Who Lived' up while I'm on watch." Mad Eye Moody crouched down next too Harry, his crystal ball like orb that inhabited one of his eye sockets went whirling about, well, madly.

"Good too see you too Moody."
"I knew something was wrong. CONSTANT VIGILANCE on my part, yes sir! When you said everything was fine everyday in your letters, I knew something was amiss. These muggles are absolute rubbish and I felt compelled too come too your aid.", Moody voiced with a sandpaper-like tone.

"Thanks," was about all that Harry was able too muster, as he sat in the grass thinking too himself.
"You know, the rest of the Order doesn't know about this." Moody pressed. "I didn't tell anyone, because I know exactly what you're trying too do. You remind me a lot of my self Potter, not one too worry the others. And I know you are fairly armored against the pains these beasts have given you, but I think its about time this sideshow-like attraction of waving Potter too pain and back again every year ends!" Harry wasn't sure what Moody meant, and for a moment, was afraid he was about too be on the receiving end of a sympathetic Avada Kedavra Curse.
"Don't look so scared boy, your secret's safe with me. Except for," Moody pointed too Harry's eye, "the fact you have a bit of a shiner from the porky one pretending you were a pinata." Harry mumbled. "Whats that boy? Put some strength in your voice!"
"The shiner is from my Uncle..." Harry was sure Moody was about too stomp right into his house, and administer every Unforgivable Curse known, and probably some that were unknown too. "Please don't hurt him." Harry continued. "He doesn't know what he's doing. It's not his fault, he has been through a lot."
"Been through a lot my arse boy! That muggle plays with drills all day. He deserves a good whooping courtesy of me!" Moody was fuming. Harry wasn't sure what else too do, but finally decided that saying what was on his mind was a smart choice. "I'm no queer. I'm not giving the Order something else too worry about, simply because I couldn't take a right hook! Don't you think Voldemort will try too do worse then suckerpunch me?"
"I reckon he would like to do worse."
"Then please, don't rat me out." Harry squeeked.
"You aren't going too stay here any more, even if I have to take you in my self Potter! You don't deserve this! No one does! Dumbeldore should have known better!" Moody growled.
"It builds character Moody." Harry grinned sheepishly, till he realized Moody didn't find the humor in his remark so he straightened up.
"There will be a meeting tonight of the Order, called by me. And I'm demanding action on this, NOW! You wont be suffering this any longer and I will personally push you daily, myself, and help you get in all the character building you need, Potter! So you can help us finish this tosh with the Dark Lord, and get back too being a kid." Moody looked almost fatherly for a wizard with half a face, a magick eye ball, and a peg leg, while he gave his small speech.
"You don't have too, but thank you Moody, I really do appreciate it." Was all Harry could say, before Vernon stepped outside too see Harry and Moody perched on the grass and Dudley frozen in mid stride only a foot from the door.
Harry couldn't remember who moved first, but he knew who was left standing after Uncle Vernon stepped out of the door, seething. Though standing really hadn't been the word. It was more like, "The one who wasn't laid out on his back with the other's knee buried into the shoulders of the loser that got his faced punched in." Yes, that was more like it. Harry had never really thought of old Moody as being particularly agile, but it was obvious by his raucous demonstration of muggle dueling that Moody had more tricks up his sleeve then a Cabaret performer. Harry finally garnered the courage too yank Moody off of his Uncle, and they both left too Ms. Figg's house.