Prologue

Harry's torment...

“ I am ashamed to be related in any way to you,” Ronald shouted angrily at Harry. His face was all red, flushed by frustration, and annoyance. Harry’s pulse quickened, the muscles in his neck tensed, and his jaw tightened. He frowned or grinned, he couldn’t quite tell what he was doing. He was just furious at Ron, whom he had trusted till then. Was it possible to turn on your best friend, just as Ron had done ?

“ You turned on me,” Harry said, strangely calm, his hands tightened into balls, and were so tightly closed that his knuckles were white, and the tendons of his hand could easily be maked out. The wand was at his waist, and he knew it would be very easy to whip it out and stop everything.

“ Me ?” Ron sounded disgusted as he stepped slightly closer. “ Look who’s talking ? Perhaps I wouldn’t have turned on you if you hadn’t hurt Hermione and turned on us FIRST !”

“ That’s a lie, “ Harry replied, his face burning. “ I never did anything to Hermione.” The beat of his heart invaded his temples, and he could almost hear the blood squirt throught the veins. His whole body shook dangerously.

“ Go away Harry. Leave us alone,” Ron seemed to calm down, and turned on his back.

“ I swear I didn’t do anything Ron. Please Ron,” this was what he meant to say but it came out completely wrong, and he screamed the words with all his might :

“ I’ll kill you Ron ! You know you’re wrong, admit it, or I’ll KILL you,” it seemed too much blood went through his head, as if he suddenly he would faint from using so much energy. He still hadn’t his wand out. Ron stopped dead in his tracks. He slowly turned around.

“ You’re not yourself,” he simply said.

“ You know I can do it Ron, and I’m not afraid to, not on a red-headed pig like you !”

“ I said, you’re not yourself,” he repeated, stepping closer, more than it was good for him. He seemed not to have heard anything of his threat.

“ This IS me ! I’m tired of pretending, now get out of it : admit,” Harry shouted, he was tiring, growing impatient.

“ Admit what ? That you’re good and I’m bad ? That Hermione wasn’t hurt by your ridiculous behavior ? Admit what Harry ?”The red-headed boy looked fierce, but not enough to scare Potter.

“ I told you not to be ridiculous,” Harry whispered, and there was a bright flash of green.

***

Harry gasped as he woke up in bed. He sat up and stared longly at the ceiling. His sleep was becoming torture. Everything around him was silent except for Ron’s snoring in the other bed. The curtains hadn’t been pulled unlike every other night and the moon shone brightly between the clouds as well as a few stars. He sighed and ran a hand through his soaked hair. His night shirt also was drenched in sweat. He threw the covers off and went to sit by the window. He looked at the Forbidden Forest, stretching for some miles in the distance, and the other parts of Hogwarts which could be seen from his dormitory window. There were some rooms still litten, and he could make out some shadows withing them. He wondered who was still up so late�"or so early. Since Umbridge had taken over the school, strange things were at work in the castle. Portraits which normally who were very fondly attached to the art of talking did not utter a word to the students’ passings, and there even had been a rumor that the plump woman intended to bring them all down to replace them with unworthy decrees. Harry was annoyed with the woman. There was nothing he could really do about it all, and it frustrated him. It was as though she controled his being, and that he couldn’t work out what to do against her, without being blamed for everything in the end. He couldn’t understand how anyone could ignore the fact that Cedric Diggory had died, and no one questioned the source of his death. Perhaps they even blamed him for it. But why would he do such a thing ? Why would he kill Cedric when he was crying over his body ? How could they all not admit that something dark was at large, even if they believed it was not the Dark Lord, could they not admit that there was some evil lurking freely and doing as it pleased ? The point of this school was failing utterly. This place was meant to be teaching magic, not lines in a book. Otherwise, it lost all its value and became exactly like any...Muggle school. That was it : like a Muggle school. Harry had nothing against Muggles, but he knew very well, like every other sorcerer that Hogwarts was a special school for a certain type of people and therefore could not be like any other, and still it was becoming so. With thousands of decrees like in Muggle schools, with a Principal who cared little about the students, and would rather see them suffer than prosper ! He shook his head, clenching his teeth. He ran a hand through his hair and uncosciously touched his scar. He stood up and walked back to his bed, debating on whether he should try to sleep again or not. He glanced once more at the window. He knew that if he got caught roaming the school at such a time, he would be punished. Word had it that the corridors were being watched by Umbridge’s men, whatever it meant�"it was claimed by the overconfident Serpentars. Harry had been resigned to stopping himself from leaving his room so late in the night, not caring if the tales about ‘Umbridge’s men’ were true. Within this thought, he decided he wasn’t frightened by Umbridge, even though he hated her�"all hated her except for the ‘extra-creditors’�"and he pulled on his trousers and changed into a fresh shirt. He pulled on his shoes, and trying to be silent, he tip-toed to the door. He went down the stairs to the Gryffindor Lounge. The fire was still burning, and for a moment he stared at it, hoping that Sirius would talk to him at this moment. His tired eyes watched the whole of the room, and after making sure that he had not woken anyone, he turned to the door, whispering the password and praying that it would not squeak. It open with a little screech and then closed on him silently. There he was, in the dark hallway, his wand in hand. Whatever had made him come out of his room. He wondered at the idea of defying Umbridge. Perhaps it was spite. And then again, perhaps not, but rather a working of the instinct. He could not bear anymore, sitting in his room when he felt he had to do something against the gathering dark.

Reviews

[PurpleQuartz]

This was so amazing! It was like I was reading one of the Harry Potter books.
Your style of writing really is like J.K Rowlings!!!

[Unavailable]

Omg!

This chapter was utterly brilliant!

Even though I am typing these words,
behind this computer I am seriously speechless lol.

I love your description through this whole chapter
and it wasn't too long, neither was it too short and it helped me a lot to imagine the setting.

I felt like I was reading an alternative OOTP version (which it kinda basically is) but it felt like it came from J.K. Rowling.

And I read your biography too... it's a very good thing your mother has gotten you start writing so young because again this is really good.

I would really love to see this submitted to my contest!

Your writing was excellent and you're way better than I am, and I'm out of High School - that's saying something.

I rate this a hundred and I will read your other chapters.

I think you're about to become my favorite author.

Great Job and keep up the good work!