Harry Potter NR.0 - Sex Stories

Harry Potter NR.0

... meant, but he figured he couldn't get in any more trouble today, but he could get some information while Vernon was in one of his Potter-insulting moods. "Nothing, boy! Now shut up and stop asking pesky questions!" The small vent that let Harry see out snapped shut and Vernon walked away, muttering. "Damned freaks, they're dead and they still can't leave us good folk in peace. One of these days..." Harry was not stupid, though he usually pretended to be in front of anyone that would have cared about that. He learned at an early age that Dinky Duddykins is the best person in the world, and he can do no wrong. After being accused many times of cheating off of Dudley (in fact, Dudley always got away with cheating off of Harry, or he would still be in first year of primary school), he decided to play dumb and let Dudley flounder his way through school. The Dursleys would not care about Harry's grades. The lower the better, they thought. Deciding that this situation needed him to think, he cheated and stopped acting dumb. "Okay, here's what I know for sure: The Dursleys think my parents were freaks, even more than me. I can do unDursleyish things sometimes, and they always know it's me, even if they have no reason to accuse me. Dudley can talk about make-believe things as if they were true, but if I even mention something, they put me in my cupboard and yell about how it's impossible or not real, when I clearly already know it's not. Harry frowned at this last point. Most of ...

... the things that Dudley was allowed to do, Harry wasn't, but he had a feeling that he was on the right track here. And it was this same feeling of being right that brought him to his illogical conclusion. "Conclusion: My parents had magic powers, and so do I." Harry, having had a lifetime of crushed fantasies and dreams, was about to laugh this off, or rather, cry it off, because if he really had magic powers, he could make his life better and do something his parents both did. Harry felt now more than ever that the story the Dursleys told him about his parent's death was a lie. As he sat in the dark, waiting for Vernon to come and tell him that he was thinking bad things, a single tear crept down his cheek. "Magic. That would be nice. I wish it were real. But it's not, and there is another explanation for all of the weird things that happen to me." Harry was so well-trained by the Dursleys (not that it would ever be good enough for them) that he was lying to himself about what he knew to be true. Fortunately for Harry, a wizard can hide from his magic about as well as he could hide his tongue from his mouth. "Even if it is a mad fantasy... It can't hurt to try, can it?" Harry closed his eyes in the dark cupboard and tried to remember the feeling he felt earlier that day. The feeling he felt when Petunia's hideous sweater shrunk to puppet-size within seconds. The feeling of having the bruises from being thrown into his cupboard healed instantly. The feeling of magic. "If this ...