Harry Potter and the Never Ending Book

Disclaimer: You know dern well that I don't own them!

Chapter One

The Mysterious Volume

Harry Potter lay on his back on his bed in the small bedroom on privet drive, his right arm dangling awkwardly off the bed as he stared at the discolored, cracked ceiling, utterly bored out of his mind. He couldn't help thinking of Sirius, whose correspondence he sorely missed this summer, and a glace out his window revealing a blank night sky, completely devoid of owls reminded him with a sharp pang that he would never again be receiving letters from his godfather.

Progressively through the summer Harry had become more and more reclusive, as reality struck home. Now he rarely ventured out of his room. He spent most of his days in a similar fashion, awaiting post that would never come, and musing over what might have been.

His knuckles brushed the wood floor as he moved his right hand, which had stared to fall asleep, having been in the same position for the better part of the last hour. His hand suddenly met with resistance, rather painfully, causing Harry to withdraw his hand.

"Ow!" He said, pressing his wounded knuckles to his mouth and swinging his feet off the bed. He knelt down on the right side of the bed and peered under it.

There, nearly obscured by the shadow of the bed in his already poorly lit room, was a floorboard lying slightly askew, as if it had once been removed and had never quite been returned to its position, flush with the floor. Intrigued, and grateful for the diversion, Harry reached under the bed and attempted to pry the board loose, but it wouldn't budge. He lay down on the floor and grasped the board as best he could with both hands, prying upwards with his thumbs, but the board remained stubbornly in place.
Slightly frustrated Harry leapt to his feet and looked around his room. He didn't really know what he was looking for, until his eyes lit on his wand, laying atop the mess in his open trunk. He immediately lunged for it, and went back to the board, but immediately his heart sank, remembering that, as an underage wizard, he could get expelled for using magic outside of school. He sat for a moment, considering the wand lying harmlessly in his hand. What were the chances of the ministry noticing a simple charm? What could it hurt? He considered it for a moment more, and then jammed his wand into the crack between the floor boards and leveraged the board out of place.

He tossed the board and wand to the middle of his bedroom floor and reached into the newly-created hole under his bed. His hands closed around a rather dusty, rather thick book, which he pulled out into the light. He brushed the thick coating of dust off the cover to reveal the title, embossed on the cover is shiny, gold foil letters;

Harry Potter