Hexad

Harry Potter And The Grim Truth - Chapter One

Harry Potter And The Grim Truth. That is the name of the third book(aka the big shebang)

And this is the first chapter. Chapter one of this (brutally honest) book-in-a-book One late night.

Actually kind of original.
I do not own Harry Potter(but I totally should). This is an AU.

This chapter is old(like from back in April) and I didn't edit it too much (I've edited it now lol)
The chapters will be a bit better written by the next chapter incase I miss stuff now because it's late rn

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Hayden Potter, or as many called him, Harry, was an unusual boy in just about every way. Unlike many children, he hated summer more than anything. And unlike many children, he was unbelievably quiet, and usually had a book inhand. He had summer homework from his "boarding school", that he wouldn't tell anyone the name of, but he only did it when it was late, and dark-- more often than not, the dead of night. 

Something nobody on the street of Privet Drive knew, except for the family in house number four, he was a wizard. Magical, wand-waving, potion making, spell-casting, wizard.

And tonight, a very late night, he was doing his homework, like he had been for the past two weeks. He had begun at five to midnight, but he didn't know how long it's been since, but for a while now, he'd guess. His body had been hurting quite horribly as he sat at a spindly desk made of cheap wood, on an equally poor-quality stool, with a flashlight to the right end of the desk, shining bright on a piece of parchment he held a feathered quill over. Propped along the wall, a large, heavy book faced him, half open. He'd be able to see the cover perfectly if he opened his left eye even just a little bit; A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, though he didn't really needed it anyway. He'd already read it enough times to know the first wizard mentioned to the last fifth subject off the top of his head. Or, he had an idea of such. His mouth curled into an unsatisfied frown, as he trailed his quill down the side of his empty parchment. He couldn't remember any notable facts about Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century.

Sure, he knew about how witches could just pretend to be in pain and agony while they were burned by muggles in medieval times, though secretly protected by a flame-freezing charm. He knew about Wendelin the Weird, "burnt" over forty-seven times in various disguises because she enjoyed it just that much, but just about anyone who could read a single page would know that. Anyone could break it down to why she enjoyed it so much, or even those daring enough to go into detail on how the charm worked to use extra space, but Harry, no. He didn't like wasting space.

Harry looked at his parchment again, sighed, and defeatedly dipped his quill in his ink bottle, before he began to write about Wendelin the Weird on his parchment. He was pausing every few seconds, to check he heard the snores of his uncle and cousin, or that he didn't hear the noise of his aunt's slippers hitting the floor. He'd be able to feel Dudley or Vernon's.

Speaking of; The family of number four on Privet Drive, the Dursley family. Harry's only living relatives. They had a very medieval attitude. They hated magic-- all that "nonsense" never made sense in their perfectly Muggle-normal heads and brains. No mention of magic, no belief in it, not even did they want to see half a spark fly in the air that wasn't from the sizzling of a pan or a flickering light fixture. They had a rule, just for Harry-- no magic, at all. Of course, not that he could do any over the summer anyway.

The past two years-- minus summers- the most eventful and dangerous years of Harry's life, he had spent at Hogwarts, Scottish school of witchcraft and wizardry. The Dursleys hated any mention of it aswell. There was nothing they could do without reason, seeing as they nearly feared a repeat of the week leading up to July thirty-first of 1991 or what happened the day of his birthday last year, but keep his supplies locked in his cupboard during the day. He was, only through much convincing and promising and quite a number of threatening hisses and snaps from Hydrus-- Harry's pet boa constrictor-- only allowed to be able to have his school books at night.