WARNING: This will contain SLASH in furute chapter. That would be Male on Male relationships. This fic is for my gay friend, Mike, so if you have a problem with that then I will have the smurfs escort you out...hm! Sticks nose into air and walks away
DISCLAIMER: I am not blonde, I am not a mother, and I do NOT (even though I wish it) have more money than the queen of Engalnd. No...all that describes the brillian and insainly lucky J.K Rowling. Harry and co. belong to her, I only own the plot, a few songs ot powems here and there, and a couple charcters along the way. You'll know 'em when you see 'em. Other songs throughout the fic are by various artist that I like...I'll tell you who they belong to when I get there. A/N: sorry about all the spelling arrors. I am on a comp that has NO spell-check, so I am unable to do so. I will when I get back home and re-post...so bare with me.
CHAPTER ONE: The New Harry
Harry stood on the stage in front of a semi-large crowd in a bar. Guitar in Hand, microphone in front of him, he looked out at all the people looking at him and then back at his band. They were called WRONG TURN and have been together since the summer after Harry's fifth year at Howarts. Now, in the summer before his seventh and final year, they have practiced enough to have their first paying gig.
Being depressed and broody helps when your trying to write rock songs, Harry decided about a week before their gig. When the summer first began Harry closed himself off from everyone, including Ron and Hermione and sent a letter to everyone just to say he was alright...although he knew he wasnt. The Dursley's have been beating his so serverly this time that he had to run away, only two weeks after he had gotten there he had almost died, and went to stay with Bob, the drummer in the band. He, being 21, had his own flat and allowed Harry to stay as long as he payed rent somehow, so Harry went job-searching. Luckily he ran into Brink, a Punker girl with hair that changes more often than you change your clothes. She owned a tattoo, piercing, and hair place in the mall, and needed a tattoo designer badly. Harry to his reliefe had a few sketches on him so he showed them to her and...vwa-la, got a job. He got paid a generous amount of money each time he gave her a complete drawing, and she had to admit that this boy had some talent. His tattoos were selling like hotcakes. Brink decided that Harry needed a new image to fit with his tall, dark, handsome, and broody attitude, so she dragged him to HOT TOPIC (A/N: do they have those in England?) to get a whole wordrobe change. In the end he walked out of the store with a pair of black baggy pants with numerous buckles, chains, and string pieces hanging from them, a black tight t-shirt that showed off every muscle he had (and boy did he have a lot...including washboard abs. Manual labor at the Dursley's had it's payoffs.) and sported Sid Vicious on the front and the words THE SEX PISTOLS on the back. Then Brink practically dragged Harry to her store and did his hair, cutting it a little shorter, putting blue streaks in it, and styling it into a sweet looking faux hawk. "What piercings do you want?" She had asked. Harry smiled a lopsided grin, contact in, finally ridding his brilliant green eyes of those hideous glasses. "Do what you want."
"Ok..." Half an hour later Harry had his left ear, left eyebrow, tounge, and right nipple pierced, sore but smiling they made their way back to the tattoo area where he handed Brink his 'one of a kind' drawings of what he wanted. Hours and a whole lot of money later Harry left with three tattoos on his body: a snitch on his left hipbone, peeking out of his low-riding pants, a lion with a snake wrapped around it's neck on his right bicep, and a large pheonix on his left shoulder blade. And, to Harry's surprise, this was how he had always wanted to be. It felt right, and knowing he wasn't some poser trying to be something he wasn't, he felt happy for the first time in a long time. BEFORE he was someone he wasn't...just Dumbledore's pawn...the goody-goody 'Golden Boy'.
Harry took a deep breath, his chest heaving out. He felt confidant that the songs he wrote would be a hit, and he spoke into the microphone,
"This song is very personal, as are all of my songs. I wrote this about an old guy named Dumbledore who controled my life for a very long time. It's called NUMB." Harry was wearing low-rising black pants with a ptach on the knee saying THE CLASH, one of his favorite bands. (A/N: They rock, people.) He wore a shirt that also said THE CLASH that was plain and black and very tight. The music started up and he began strumming his guitar, and then he began to sing when he was supposed to, allowing Zeke, the lead guitarist, to sing when he was supposed to.
(A/N: This is one of those times. I'm saying Harry wrote this song but that just fits better because I'm too lazy to write my own but you find them here from time to time. This one is NUMB by LINKIN PARK.)
I'm tired of being what you want me to be Feeling so faithless lost under the surface Don't know what you're expecting of me Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
Every step that I take is another mistake to you (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
Chorus
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I've become so tired so much more aware I'm becoming this all I want to do Is be more like me and be less like you
Can't you see that you're smothering me Holding too tightly afraid to lose control Cause everything that you thought I would be Has fallen apart right in front of you (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
Every step that I take is another mistake to you (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
And every second I waste is more than I can take
Chorus
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I've become so tired so much more aware I'm becoming this all I want to do Is be more like me and be less like you
And I know I may end up failing too But I know You were just like me with someone disappointed in you
Chorus
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I've become so tired so much more aware I'm becoming this all I want to do Is be more like me and be less like you
Chorus
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I'm tired of being what you want me to be I've become so numb I can't feel you there I'm tired of being what you want me to be
(A/N: I don't have my CD with me so I can't check to make sure these are right, so...yeah. If there is anything wrong, live with it.)
Harry finished, wanting to cry, but knew he had to do more songs and also knew that the more he sang the closer to crying he was going to come. His songs were his only relase from everything he felt. Everything was so screwed up in his life, and he had only just turned 17...everything didn't seem at all fair. Taking a sip of water he was unaware of two pairs of eyes watching his from the crowed: on a steely blue-gary, the other a brillint obsidian black.
A/n: Wow...I wrote that fast. I know it's not much but still...this is my first fic and I just wanted to give you a taste of what this is going to be all about. Please, once I get a couple of reviwes I will review. And please give me suggestions and if you have questions, go ahead and ask. Yell and make fun of me to, if it pleases you, I need a laugh. Also, I was wondering who Harry should fall for: Draco or Sev...I can't pick! I love both! I'll run a pole.
DISCLAIMER: I am not blonde, I am not a mother, and I do NOT (even though I wish it) have more money than the queen of Engalnd. No...all that describes the brillian and insainly lucky J.K Rowling. Harry and co. belong to her, I only own the plot, a few songs ot powems here and there, and a couple charcters along the way. You'll know 'em when you see 'em. Other songs throughout the fic are by various artist that I like...I'll tell you who they belong to when I get there. A/N: sorry about all the spelling arrors. I am on a comp that has NO spell-check, so I am unable to do so. I will when I get back home and re-post...so bare with me.
CHAPTER ONE: The New Harry
Harry stood on the stage in front of a semi-large crowd in a bar. Guitar in Hand, microphone in front of him, he looked out at all the people looking at him and then back at his band. They were called WRONG TURN and have been together since the summer after Harry's fifth year at Howarts. Now, in the summer before his seventh and final year, they have practiced enough to have their first paying gig.
Being depressed and broody helps when your trying to write rock songs, Harry decided about a week before their gig. When the summer first began Harry closed himself off from everyone, including Ron and Hermione and sent a letter to everyone just to say he was alright...although he knew he wasnt. The Dursley's have been beating his so serverly this time that he had to run away, only two weeks after he had gotten there he had almost died, and went to stay with Bob, the drummer in the band. He, being 21, had his own flat and allowed Harry to stay as long as he payed rent somehow, so Harry went job-searching. Luckily he ran into Brink, a Punker girl with hair that changes more often than you change your clothes. She owned a tattoo, piercing, and hair place in the mall, and needed a tattoo designer badly. Harry to his reliefe had a few sketches on him so he showed them to her and...vwa-la, got a job. He got paid a generous amount of money each time he gave her a complete drawing, and she had to admit that this boy had some talent. His tattoos were selling like hotcakes. Brink decided that Harry needed a new image to fit with his tall, dark, handsome, and broody attitude, so she dragged him to HOT TOPIC (A/N: do they have those in England?) to get a whole wordrobe change. In the end he walked out of the store with a pair of black baggy pants with numerous buckles, chains, and string pieces hanging from them, a black tight t-shirt that showed off every muscle he had (and boy did he have a lot...including washboard abs. Manual labor at the Dursley's had it's payoffs.) and sported Sid Vicious on the front and the words THE SEX PISTOLS on the back. Then Brink practically dragged Harry to her store and did his hair, cutting it a little shorter, putting blue streaks in it, and styling it into a sweet looking faux hawk. "What piercings do you want?" She had asked. Harry smiled a lopsided grin, contact in, finally ridding his brilliant green eyes of those hideous glasses. "Do what you want."
"Ok..." Half an hour later Harry had his left ear, left eyebrow, tounge, and right nipple pierced, sore but smiling they made their way back to the tattoo area where he handed Brink his 'one of a kind' drawings of what he wanted. Hours and a whole lot of money later Harry left with three tattoos on his body: a snitch on his left hipbone, peeking out of his low-riding pants, a lion with a snake wrapped around it's neck on his right bicep, and a large pheonix on his left shoulder blade. And, to Harry's surprise, this was how he had always wanted to be. It felt right, and knowing he wasn't some poser trying to be something he wasn't, he felt happy for the first time in a long time. BEFORE he was someone he wasn't...just Dumbledore's pawn...the goody-goody 'Golden Boy'.
Harry took a deep breath, his chest heaving out. He felt confidant that the songs he wrote would be a hit, and he spoke into the microphone,
"This song is very personal, as are all of my songs. I wrote this about an old guy named Dumbledore who controled my life for a very long time. It's called NUMB." Harry was wearing low-rising black pants with a ptach on the knee saying THE CLASH, one of his favorite bands. (A/N: They rock, people.) He wore a shirt that also said THE CLASH that was plain and black and very tight. The music started up and he began strumming his guitar, and then he began to sing when he was supposed to, allowing Zeke, the lead guitarist, to sing when he was supposed to.
(A/N: This is one of those times. I'm saying Harry wrote this song but that just fits better because I'm too lazy to write my own but you find them here from time to time. This one is NUMB by LINKIN PARK.)
I'm tired of being what you want me to be Feeling so faithless lost under the surface Don't know what you're expecting of me Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
Every step that I take is another mistake to you (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
Chorus
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I've become so tired so much more aware I'm becoming this all I want to do Is be more like me and be less like you
Can't you see that you're smothering me Holding too tightly afraid to lose control Cause everything that you thought I would be Has fallen apart right in front of you (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
Every step that I take is another mistake to you (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)
And every second I waste is more than I can take
Chorus
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I've become so tired so much more aware I'm becoming this all I want to do Is be more like me and be less like you
And I know I may end up failing too But I know You were just like me with someone disappointed in you
Chorus
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I've become so tired so much more aware I'm becoming this all I want to do Is be more like me and be less like you
Chorus
I've become so numb I can't feel you there I'm tired of being what you want me to be I've become so numb I can't feel you there I'm tired of being what you want me to be
(A/N: I don't have my CD with me so I can't check to make sure these are right, so...yeah. If there is anything wrong, live with it.)
Harry finished, wanting to cry, but knew he had to do more songs and also knew that the more he sang the closer to crying he was going to come. His songs were his only relase from everything he felt. Everything was so screwed up in his life, and he had only just turned 17...everything didn't seem at all fair. Taking a sip of water he was unaware of two pairs of eyes watching his from the crowed: on a steely blue-gary, the other a brillint obsidian black.
A/n: Wow...I wrote that fast. I know it's not much but still...this is my first fic and I just wanted to give you a taste of what this is going to be all about. Please, once I get a couple of reviwes I will review. And please give me suggestions and if you have questions, go ahead and ask. Yell and make fun of me to, if it pleases you, I need a laugh. Also, I was wondering who Harry should fall for: Draco or Sev...I can't pick! I love both! I'll run a pole.