taking control

Prologue

A/N: This is my first piece of fiction that I have ever written. It will be a long, novel length story. I have already written several chapters, which still need some editing. I am currently doing all of that on my own. If anybody would like to help, you can feel free to let me know. I don't imagine myself to be a great writer, but I think the story is at least pretty decent. If you have any comments or criticisms (hopefully constructive), I would appreciate them. I would like to make this story as good as it can be.

A little about the story: it is Pre-HBP, even though I began writing it after HBP was already out. It does not follow anything that happened in HBP. I'm not just talking about the plot points in HBP, but there are some facts about the HP world made in HBP that I don't follow, not the least of which is the method in which the Ministry tracks magic use (more specifically underage magic use). So please don't leave me comments about anything said in HBP that contradicts anything in this story. Thanks.

Without further ado, I give you the prologue and first chapter of my story: Taking Control (the name is a little lame, I know, but oh well). Oh, and Harry Potter is in no way a work of my own creation. You all know I stole the characters and settings and basically everything from JKR.

Prologue

Privet Drive was a perfectly normal street. It was lined with perfectly normal houses, one nearly identical to the next. The inhabitants of these homes were all perfectly normal people as well, save for one house. In this house lived a family who tried its hardest to be perfectly normal. But there has always been one aspect of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley's lives that has never been anything close to their definition of normal. That thing was sitting on his lumpy bed in the smallest room of the house, filled with their son's old, broken toys accumulated throughout his pampered life. That thing was none other than their nephew, Harry Potter.

Harry Potter didn't pay any attention to the numerous objects strewn about his room. He sat motionless on his bed staring unseeingly at the bare wall in front of him. He had been sitting in the same position since he had returned to his "home" for the summer exactly 36 hours ago. Harry Potter had not eaten, slept, spoken a word, nor even averted his gaze in all that time.

It was his snowy white owl, Hedwig, who finally broke Harry out of his reverie. Returning from her nighttime hunt, she alighted on his shoulder and nipped affectionately at his ear, giving a soft hoot. Broken from his trance, Harry glanced at his bedside clock to find that it was just after 3:00 in the morning. Harry absentmindedly stroked Hedwig's feathers as he realized something else he'd neglected to do in the past 36 hours. He then promptly ran out of his room to use the loo, leaving an indignant owl in his wake.

Finished relieving himself of his most pressing concern, Harry realized how hungry he was. A growl from his stomach reaffirmed his decision to sneak down to the kitchen to scrounge up something to eat. He quietly made his way through the hallway and down the stairs, careful to avoid the floorboards and steps that he knew to creak. Once reaching his destination, he set out to make himself a sandwich. It only took Harry two bites before realizing that despite his obvious hunger he didn't have much of an appetite.

Harry forced his way through the rest of his sandwich despite the rising sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Finished with his midnight meal, Harry cleaned up after himself and soundlessly made his way back up the stairs and into his bedroom where he collapsed onto his bed and promptly dropped off into a fitful night's sleep.

The next few days progressed in much the same manner for Harry. He only ever left his room in the middle of the night, and he had not encountered any of his relatives since the day they had picked him up from King's Cross Station. This was one of the very few things in his life for which he was grateful for at the moment.