Gender: Unspecified Location: Some dark forgotten corner
Harry Potter and the Mudblood War
To the reader:
I was not going to write a Book 7 for Harry Potter due to my extreme disgust with JKR’s book 6, but after reading Barker’s wonderful story I changed my mind. But before I start, I would like to warn you of a few things.
1) I do suggest that you read JKR’s book 6 before reading this story because spoilers will follow.
2) This is my version of Harry Potter 7 so I may very well drift from JKR’s established storyline and change a few key points. I will write off of the last story despite my loathing but through certain events that follow, I may reverse some things that did not meet my liking.
3) This story will definitely be darker, more morbid, and more serious than my previous stories. This change is based on JKR’s last book and my mood. So be forewarned that characters may die.
4) Do not post in this thread. I repeat: DO NOT POST IN THIS THREAD. Posting in here may and most likely will result in me quitting. So do not spam! If you wish to make comments, go to my Harry Potter 7 thread.
Thank you for putting up with me thus far. I appreciate your attention and please forgive my ranting. That said, let the story begin.
Harry Potter and the Mudblood War
Chapter 1: A Midnight Visit
After the sunset on Privet Drive, the street was thrown into the utmost shadows. The once bright houses became intimidating black silhouettes; yards, desolate plains, occasionally occupied by devilish wrights of trees. Only beneath the streetlamps was anything illuminated, but even that light seemed faint in the imposing darkness.
For the past year, an underlying feeling of dread had haunted the occupants of the drive. Though no one spoke of their concern, it was obvious in their every move. Men cautioned their families about safety every morning, women were skittish and afraid of everything, and long before the sunset each evening, the drive was deserted of all activity. Doors were bolted and, even in the extreme heat of July, windows were shut tight.
Unlike their neighbor, the Dursleys, of number four, Privet Drive, knew exactly what was causing them so much anxiety. As usual, it was their resident guest and relative, Harry Potter, though not for the ordinary reasons. Earlier that week, Vernon Dursley had received a disturbing letter from his nephew’s school. Adding to the terror of recent unexplainable deaths, the letter had informed him of a dangerous enemy. To make matters worse, this enemy, like his nephew Harry, was, in Vernon’s words, abnormal. Even the name of this ‘dark lord’ sent chills up his back: Voldemort. Furthermore, this evil man was behind the horrible murders which had been occurring as of late. Upon revealing this news to his wife, Petunia Dursley became hysterical. She began an hour long rant at her husband about being unsafe and needing her nephew. Vernon, throughout this, was unable to get in a word, but oddly enough, agreed that they had to, at all costs, keep Harry with them. Despite their disgust with Harry’s type, the Dursleys agreed that it was safer with Harry around. What was more protection from a wizard than another wizard?
Nearly midnight, the last light on the forlorn street had been turned off and a blanket of silence covered the houses. A cold breeze rustled the trees, and the lamplights flickered before going black. A great black crow swooped out of the sky and, with a small pop, a black hooded figure appeared on the drive. The figure began a slow walk toward on side of the street, each step echoing in the dead silence. His hands hidden in his cloak and his face concealed in the shadows of the hood, the figure approached number four Privet Drive. Without a word said, the front door fell into the house the moment the figure reached the last step. Entering the house, the black figure looked up the stairs at Vernon who was stomping down them.
‘What the Bloody Hell do you think you're doing?!? Get out of my home! This is breaking and entering, mister. I’ll call the police.’
‘Give me the boy.’ A hissing whisper escaped from the hood of the cloak. ‘Give me the boy.’
‘Petunia! Petunia! Ruuuuuuu–!’
As Petunia appeared at the top of the stairs there was a flash of green light and Vernon fell backwards and slide down the remaining stairs. The black figure, noticing Petunia, stepped across Vernon’s dead body and began ascending the steps. Petunia was frozen in place, her hand covering her mouth, in a silent scream. Dudley, who was hiding in the hall closet, heard his mother’s last words as he bolted out the door. It would be a sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Reaching the street, Dudley began to run faster than he ever had before.
Well, since everybody else is disreguarding riku's request, I thought it was the cool thing to do.
It's a good story. Keep writing. I have a suggestion, though. Most people won't go through the trouble of looking for another thread and then commenting in there. Instead, they just won't comment at all, so I would advise to just let people post in this thread.