Title: Memoirs of a lost soul
Author: JustAShootingStar
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the main character and certain parts of the plot, not everything. All the rest belongs to JK Rowling and the editors/publishers/etc of the Harry Potter series.
Pairings: Irmada/Draco
Summary: We all know what happens to the trio in all seven books. Now, how about a look at what it felt like to be the "bad guys" having love issues…
Author's note: Hey everybody. This is my first fic so I'm gonna need those who reed this to review, k? I know it's a short first chapter and there's not much to say about it, but don't worry the rest will be interesting, I promise o. Thanks a lot guys. Also, it doesn't matter which language you review in, as long as it's one of the following: English, Arabic (if it's possible to do that on , I don't know :D), French, German, and Italian. Thanks for your help, and constructive criticism would be most helpful . (And I have to warn you, when it comes to writing, my English is very complicated…) Enjoy your reading and tell me all about it .
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Chapter 1: Identity
Slowly, very slowly, I began to open my eyes, the sun's light rays shining between my slightly open eyelids, the soft breeze rustling through my hair. After a few moments of trying to see properly, I managed to get a glance of the landscapes surrounding me, finding, to my greatest pleasure, that I was still in the same place I had been the night before. I began rising from the ground, slightly unbalanced by the events that had occurred here the night before. I was on a small hill covered in long green and yellow grass. It was an ideal place to be if you seeked intimacy or privacy or even just a place you could find mental and physical relief. And who would've thought it would be this close to the place I so dearly called "home".
Was it truly "home"? I didn't really know. But something told me it was ok. Something was constantly saying it should be home, constantly reminding me who I lived with and how much I should respect them, treat them with care and talk to them well. Somehow, all of this seemed to be real, but it also looked like a complete lie.
It was suffocating to have to always take care of what you did, be careful not to hurt anyone by what you said. It was like trying to fly with broken wings like those of a bird that was just shot down by the heartless hunter who was, at that time, the manners I longed to banish and the people that wished to make of me the perfect daughter, trying to make me flawless but making me clueless as well during the process ― clueless about the things in life more important than how to drink from my cup like a well-mannered little girl or how to curtsey like a cute little princess. I hated all of this. It made me feel like my life had no meaning and like I was destined to be some sort of miserable creature for which life had reserved its best punishments. I started to hate everything around me so much that, soon enough, I was falling into a deep depression, being more misunderstood by the minute. Even loving all of the people I lived with had begun to be a problem. I just couldn't treat them like I used to anymore, like they were precious, like they were my family.
"But they are my family, aren't they?" I would ask myself this question so often during my childhood that in the end, I began to question myself about who I really was. This earned me a lot of trouble as a child and some of my former friends actually began to despise me. It didn't really matter, though. As long as it didn't affect my other self, then I was fine with it. As long as he was still there, then it wasn't a problem. I was safe.
Who is my other self, you ask? Let me take you back to the time I still had a first self to begin with…
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Voilà ! Hope you liked it . See you next chapter .