Chapter 1: My brown-eyed girl
*******************************4 Privet Drive*****************************
July 31 2005 Just after Midnight
In a tiny room in a typical suburban home a young man stirred and muttered in his sleep, "No, damn, you, NO!" He screamed as he jerked awake. Sitting up slowly, the young man panted slightly, and ran his fingers though a mop of messy, sweaty, jet-black hair. He was shirtless in the July heat, as his adoptive guardians had long ago blocked any air conditioning into this room. From this, one could see that he was thin, but in excellent shape, and that several small and not so small scars marred his chest, arms and back. But these features in and of themselves were not truly distinctive, the only things that truly distinguished him from thousands of others like him, were shockingly bright green eyes, and a curious lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, which at this moment was luridly standing out on his temple.
He looked over at the bedside clock sitting next to a pair of unusual photos and noticed that the time was 12:07 am. The young man now performed a peculiar act. He pulled a stick, similar to a conductor's baton from under his pillow and twirled it though his fingers. Hmm I guess this means no more letters from the Ministry about being underage, he thought pensively, looking down at his hands. He picked up the first of the photos, which showed a happy pair of people, one of who looked almost exactly like him. The really odd thing about the photos was that the people in the photo were moving. Mum, Dad what am I supposed to do? He's my best friend in the world? What am I to say to him, he wouldn't even speak to Mione or I on the ride home he just got up and patrolled the train. We didn't try to cause this rift, it just happened. What with the aftermath of the assault on Hogsmeade and such we never got time to tell him, then he caught us and then.... With this thought he picked up the other picture. This one was obviously newer as it was color instead of the black and white of the other picture and more importantly, had the young man in the picture along with a beautiful girl with long brown curls and glowing, large brown eyes, and a tall, blue-eyed, red-haired, befreckled boy. The three of them were intriguingly wearing long black robes with a rampant lion on the pocket over what looked to be boarding school uniforms. However in this picture all was not well. The black haired boy and the brown haired girl were standing with their arms around each other mugging for the camera, while the red-haired boy stood over in the corner looking peeved, occasionally shooting annoyed glances at the pair.
Damn it Ron, I never thought about you, you hadn't said a word since forth year. How were we supposed to know that you still had feelings for Hermione? At least I didn't and if she knew she never told me. Of course she could have been trying to protect me, god knows I probably needed it after that trip into town, the only thing that kept me together was that we finally found each other that day. If I had had to take another's feelings into account then I probably would have just disappeared and the Dark Lord would have won that day.
Suddenly he heard a heavy tread on the stairs outside the room and through the door an angry yell thundered, "DAMN YOU BOY I HAVE TO SLEEP, I HAVE TO MAKE A SALE TOMMORROW TO KEEP YOUR FUCKING FACE FED! WHY THE HELL WE TOOK YOU IN AFTER YOUR BITCH OF A MOTHER DIED I DON'T KNOW!"
The head of the young man, who had been ignoring this repetitive tirade, snapped around to face the door like the turret of a battleship acquiring a target. A brief blue flash lit up his eyes and he responded in an icy tone just loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door. " Shut up about her!" To any sensible person, especially one of the boy's true kin, that warning would have put the fear of God into them, but the blustering man on the other side of that locked door had no such sense.
"WHAT ARE GOING TO DO BOY? USE MAGIC, HA. YOU KNOW THEY WILL KICK YOU OUT OF YOUR PRECIO..." The angry man mocked.
"Vernon", the young man replied, not raising his voice above the tone he had been using, "Do you know what date it is?" For a moment, the noise of crickets though the slightly open window could be heard in the silence, then:
