Harry Potter Harry Potter and the Ludicrous Experiment, Ch. 1

[eristaz]

My insanity manifests itself here.
BWHAHAHAHA!!!
I don't own Harry Potter!

Harry Potter and the Ludicrous Experiment
Written by EristazÆs insane mind

A small boy, around the age of four, was sleeping on a ratty cot within a dark and extremely small room. He had a full head of hair that was so dark that it seemed to suck in any light that was around it, if there was any light around. His skin was a ghastly pale, with many scars and bruises donning it. It could be easily seen that he was very malnourished. He had a pair of round lensed glasses that had been recently broken in two and quickly repaired with tape, laying on the floor next to him. Along with the broken glasses, most of the possessions that were in the room with him were also in disrepair.

The room itself was so small, that a fully grown adult would not have been able to stand up in it. The door had many different locks on the outside of it, which were currently in use. On further inspection one would find that the room was actually a broom cupboard, under a very clean stairwell. Actually, most of the house outside of his small cupboard was extremely clean. Too clean. This was the doing of his aunt, Petunia Dursley, a blond lady with a horse-like face. She seemed to have a fear of germs, dirt, and grime. Her husband, Vernon, was a walrus of a man whoÆs face constantly was a shade of puce. Their son, Dudley, was nearly as round as he was tall, and was doted on by his parents. This pathetic family harbored an utmost hate towards the small boy in the cupboard, who had never done anything to deserve such despicable treatment. Except, perhaps, by living.

The small boy shivered, and drew the tatty cover closer to his body. It was currently in the middle of the winter. A deep snow blanketed the outside of the house. It was quite a beautiful picture. A calm silence drifted throughout the street the house resided on.

This boy had an amazing destiny ahead of him, and his path began that fateful night.

The boyÆs name was Harry Potter.

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Three black, wispy forms congregated in front of the residence of Harry Potter. Each standing at the exact height of six feet, seemed to have very undefined forms. Almost as if made of the blackest smoke. Resting on each of their sides was a sword reaching five feet in length, a katana. The smoke-like forms waited in the darkness, until some unknown presence gave them the order to enter the house.

The forms separated and formed into shapeless, black, clouds. Quickly the forms entered the house through any crevice they could find. Inside the house they formed into their humanoid shapes and moved silently throughout the house. Two of the shapes made their way upstairs and the other crept on the bottom floor, as if searching for something.

Soon, three different sets of screams could be heard from upstairs, accompanied by sickening slicing noises. The screams were silenced abruptly. A light turned on that could be see from under the crack of the cupboard door.

ôUncle Vernon?ö A quivering voice came through the door. ôAunt Petunia?ö

Quickly the smoke form moved to the cupboard and opened it. The little boy inside, Harry, screamed in fright. The form grabbed HarryÆs wrist and they both disappeared in a cloud of smoke. The two forms upstairs disappeared as well, leaving behind the bloody corpses of the last remaining relatives of Harry Potter.

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Harry was floating through an abyss of darkness. Unknowing of the world around him.

ôWake up, Harry Potter.ö A cold and maniac voice interrupted his dark sanctuary.

HarryÆs eyes opened slowly, angred that he was awoken. Around him he saw a chamber made of obsidian. Next he realized that he was that he was bound by metal, spread-eagled, on a freezing cold stone crypt. A man was standing above him, who was bald and deathly white. His eyes were changing from white to black slowly. It was hypnotizing.

ôYes, Harry Potter, you shall be the perfect specimen, yes. Only the person who defeated the Dark One, could possibly survive this,ö the pale man said.

By this time Harry had tears rolling down the sides of his head. Fear resonated within his eyes.

ôAhhh...mabey I should introduce myself, my name is Alexander vanRosenburg. I was one of the lead uspeakables at your countryÆs ministry of magic.ö

Now Harry uttered his first words of this confrontation, ôBut...but...magic isnÆt real, my Uncle Vernon said that magic was nonsense, and anyone who uses it, should be punished.ö By this time, Harry was extremely scared.

Alexander unleashed a maniacal laugh, ôWhat is this? Harry Potter does not believe in magic?ö He laughed again. ôI presume you do not have knowledge of your own past, do you?ö

ôMy parents were drunks and convicts, and they died in a car crash.ö Mumbled Harry, his body was beginning to tremble in fear.

ôNo, child, your parents were not drunks, convicts, or anything of that sort. No, they were wizards, your mother was even an aquaitence of mine. She was a fine person, her ideas were innovative! She could have changed the world! But, it seems, you did, by when the vile wizard Tom Riddle, who had terrorized the wizarding world for more than a score of years, invaded your familyÆs home and killed your parents, you somehow defeated him. You have extraordinary powers child, and I seek to improve these powers.ö

It could now be seen that the chamber was beginning to tremble, HarryÆs extraordinary powers already manifesting themselves because he was in this horrifying predicament. It was then Harry spoke again, ôWhat are you going to do to me?ö

Alexander looked down upon Harry, his mystifying eyes boring deep within HarryÆs emerald eyes. ôChild, I seek to better you, for when Voldemort does return, you shall be able to obliterate him. He is not worthy of life. I seek to perform an experiment upon you. They called it ludicrous, but I see it as genius. You see, child, within the magical world, blood is a powerful commodity. It is seen as dark, nowadays, to use blood for magic. I believe that magic is neither light nor dark, but the people who use it make it so. I plan to give you the powers of the majestic phoenixes, the cunning basilisks, the protective werewolves, the imposing dementors, the strong dragons, and more, so much more. As you go on through your life, you will find new strengths, and very few weaknesses. All of this, I shall inject within you through blood of each of these creatures. Child, I can see that your destiny has much for you to cope with. With what I give you, I hope your life shall be easier. I see that my life will end soon, but my project will live on.ö

Alexander then turned and reached for a stone basin that was filled with an oddly black liquid, which was resting on the table next to him. He reached for HarryÆs hand and cut open his palm with a knife the pulled from his belt. Harry was not able to resist when his hand was placed inside the liquid. The basin then developed a red aura which traveled throughout HarryÆs body. He was soon gasping for air, his throat was tightening and thus was unable to scream because of the pain. The last thing Harry saw before he fell unconscious was Alexander decaying into a rotting corpse and the room around him beginning to fade.
END CHAPTER

Well, guys, I hope you have somewhat enjoyed this odd beginning to my story. IÆll try to update as much as possible if I get some reviews from people who liked it. Harry has quite a destiny and story ahead of him here, and for you guys, it will only get better!

And here is a good quote!
ôAnd the art of payment has the special function of giving pay: but we do not confuse this with other arts, any more than the art of the pilot is to be confused with the art of medicine, because the health of the pilot may be improved by a sea voyage. You wold not be inclined to say, would you, that navigation is the art of medicine, at least if we are to adopt your exact use of language?
Certainly not.ö
-Plato, The Republic

 

[Bloodalchemy]

he's still bound to the table after he wakes up and he has no idea how to leave even if he wasn't, but anyway cool idea continue.

 

[mindpron]

It's interesting but in bad need of proofreading. The grammar and sentence structure just made me wince. Seriously, just running it through a half-decent grammar checker will improve this by leaps and bounds.

Second, the spliced paragraphs make this extremely difficult to read. Remember each paragraph deals in a single topic. When a new topic is explored, a new paragraph is started. Generally, if you stick to this rule, you won't have a problem with paragragh spilicing, and your stories become MUCH easier to read.

Finally, you need to add details to your writing. Add more description to the setting and actions, as they occur. Avoid the over-use of pronouns. It's best to use decriptive nouns in place of pronouns on undefined characters in order to avoid losing it under all the he's and she's. Ex. the dark-haired boy said. The green-eyed boy said, etc.

At the same time avoid use frivilous character description as that will distract the the reader from the story.

An example of unneccesary descriptives is this:

A small boy, around the age of four, was sleeping on a ratty cot within a dark and extremely small room. He had a full head of hair that was so dark that it seemed to suck in any light that was around it, if there was any light around. His skin was a ghastly pale, with many scars and bruises donning it. It could be easily seen that he was very malnourished. .

Such a verbose description is completely unneccesary, as all you are doing is increasing your word count, not adding anything to the story. Just adding physical detail to your characters isn't going to magically make a story better. Any details you add should mean something to the story, even if it is only in an extremely minor way.

It's a good idea to spend more time on the setting and the actions of your characters then on the physical characteristics of the characters themselves. Be minimalistic when it comes to physical descriptiion. What they look like is far less important then what is going on around them.

Try:

In a small room, on a cot that has seen better days, slept a dark-haired boy. His pale, gaunt face grimacing in his sleep as he rolled over exposed signs of a recent beating. His sallow skin showed signs of malnutrition and thes scars of past abuse and mistreatment.

Notice I moved the setting description to the front. That is because the setting description should almost ALWAYS come before the character desciption. Especially, in an opening paragraph. Once you tell the reader where they are, only then you can tell them what is going on. Doing otherwise, will make the desciption difficult to read.

It's generally a good idea to give the setting each time you start a scene. Even if you are still in the same room. Just a single sentence or phrase dealing with the setting is usually enough, unless the setting has changed dramatically. This creates a picture in the mind of the reader, that they can move the characters around in. Scenes without settings should be avoided unless it's important to the story to leave the setting unspoken.

Go rewrite this using these rules and the story will improve dramatically. I'm not saying you'll instantly become Shakespeare; but it will make it both easier to read and easier to write as the details will flow together far more easily, making expansion less difficult.