1. Harry Potter NR.0


    Date: 2/16/2015, Categories: Fiction, Fan fiction, Author: zimbi, Rating: 76.9, Source: sexstories.com

    doesn't work, I'll stop right now and never think about such nonsense ever again." The magic in Harry's blood could feel the resolution in his statement, and knew that if it didn't give him what he asked, his magic would waste away in Harry's depression. Or even worse, when he eventually learned how to use his magic, it would not be used for good. It was, after all, a true miracle that Harry had the kindness and optimism he did after living with the Dursleys for as long as he could remember. After wishing for a bit of light, Harry opened his eyes. The cupboard was filled with an unearthly glow that seemed to come right out of the walls. Harry had never seen such wonderful, warm light in his life, except for that which came directly from the sun itself. He looked around in astonishment and bathed in the light. He could see parts of his cupboard that he had never seen before and watched as spiders fled from the light and into cracks in the floor. The feeling of magical light on his skin gave him a feeling he had not had in a long time: Happiness. "I can do magic!" Harry said out loud. Too loud. "NO YOU CAN'T, BOY! THERE'S NO SUCH THING!" Vernon ran up to the cupboard and shouted directly into the vent. He was beyond purple and well into blue. Harry shrunk back from his uncle's ready-to-explode face and into the now-darkened cupboard as his happiness faded quickly into something that was all-too-familiar: fear and sadness. "Yes, uncle," Harry replied obligingly. He sighed in ...
    relief as Vernon once again wandered off in anger, muttering obscenities about freaks and their worthless runts. The instant Vernon closed the vent Harry closed his eyes and wished hard for the light again. Laying onto his hard cot and basking in his light, he slowly smiled. Things were going to be better for him. He could feel it. x x x Several hundred miles away, an old man with a long gray beard looked with hope at a quickly spinning metal contraption that only he could understand. It began to emit a low whistle, and the bearded man smiled. "It appears that young Harry's accidental magic is quite impressive for his age, wouldn't you agree?" His only response was a pleasant trilling from the bird that the man thought of as his friend. x x x That night, Harry had one of his least favorite nightmares. Of course, he didn't have a favorite nightmare, because they were all bad. Occasionally he would have a nice dream about something that the Dursleys would undoubtedly hate, like riding on a flying motorcycle. But most of the time they were scary. Why did this have to happen on such a nice day? Sure, he got yelled at three times by two different people and spent the entire day locked in his cupboard, but he figured out the he was a real, live...ermm... whatever he was! Last night he had a dream that, while not very scary, always gave him a horrible feeling in his stomach. There really wasn't much to the dream—darkness, a flash of green light, and horrible laughter. The kind of ...
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