For the first ten years of my life, I felt like I was trapped in a dark cave with no hope of me ever leaving. One of those caves they take you to on school trips where the most exciting thing that happens is a teaching squealing as hordes of bats attack them. I didn't mean to do it, I swear. She was asking for it, drawling on and on about cave structure.

Anyways, yeah, my life, up till when I was eleven or a little younger, was fairly boring. I guess it wasn't completely boring; I am a witch after all. There were also some great high points and horrible low points, but for the most part I feel that if you watched a movie on those years you would fall asleep in the first ten minutes.

A lot of it had to do with the fact that my parents refused to tell me anything about the war.

At first, I was content to focus on the things I thought mattered the most in life: Potions, spells, books, music, and getting good grades. But as I got older, I got nosier, as my mum would put it. One day I discovered her reading a book entitled: A History of the First War. Not a very creative title if you asked me, but it raised my curiosity. I, having no idea she wanted to hide anything from me, asked her what it was about. She dropped the book in shock and told me it was nothing, just a fiction book. I was five at the time, so that's why I believed her.

I never stopped asking my parents, mostly Mum, about it, though. These endeavors in trying to get more information never succeeded. Eventually, I was desperate enough to steal it from her and my father's room while they were out one day. They had left me to watch over my younger brother, Sirius, who was six at the time. There really wasn't much to watch, seeing as he mostly stayed in his room all day reading his magical comic books and playing with his Quidditch player action figures.

Trusting Mum never put a charm on the door to keep me out, so I could simply walk in the room. It was a large, spacious room. The bed had a crimson red comforter with gold pillows. Pictures of our family, some individual and some group, lined the walls, and as I looked around, the subjects smiled and waved at me.

There was one picture of someone I did not recognize though. He looked a lot like my father, hair that stuck out all over the place, glasses, and many features of his face were similar. He had my mum's eyes, though. He also had a lightning bolt shaped scar in the middle of his forehead. This picture was also completely stationary. I had the feeling that if I just found that book, I would figure out who that boy was.

I walked over to Mum's bookshelf, which completely covered the eastern wall. She had the books organized by title, so it was rather simple to find the "H"'s and pick out A History of the First War. I half expected some sort of alarm to go off, but none did. Unless Mum put some sort of spell on it that would alert her, nobody would notice I took the book.

I rushed into my room, which I also call my sanctuary. It is also large, though not as large as my parents'. The walls were painted lime green, with posters of my favorite bands (Muggle and wizard) and people I looked up to plastered on it. My full size bed (yes, I was a bit spoiled) was pushed into the corner directly opposite the door. The comforter was black with lime green polka dots to match my wall, and the pillows and other sheets were a mixture of the two colors. My bookshelf was next to bed, full but not nearly as large as my mum's. My guitars (acoustic & electric) were by the window, along with pages of music I had written. The wireless sat on my desk, usually tuned on to the rock station. I loved the atmosphere of it; coming in here always had a way of calming me down.

I lied on my bed and got myself comfortable before reading. I opened the book to the table of contents and saw the first chapter was entitled "A General Overview". I hastily turned the pages to Chapter One, and began reading.

"Never, in all of Wizarding history, has there ever been such a catastrophic chain of events as The First War. Even during the times of Grindwald, the loss of life, the effect on Wizarding society, has never been greater.

"A wizard named Tom Riddle, or better known as Lord Voldemort (referred to as "You-Know-Who" or "He Who Must Not Be Named in public) was a cruel and clever man. He believed, as did his followers, the Death Eaters, that wizards and witches who had been born of at least one Muggle, and Muggles themselves, were not worth much more than the dirt on their shoes. In many ways, Voldemort and his Death Eaters are comparable to the Muggle Adolf Hitler and his Nazis. Each year they remained in power, he killed and tortured more and more innocent people. It was a horror unlike any other event in Wizarding history. Many brave souls tried to stand up to Voldemort, but nearly all ended up dead or mortally wounded. One sad case was the tragedy of Frank & Alice Longbottom, who were tortured to the point of insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband & brother, and Barty Crouch Jr., trying to find out the Dark Lord's location. The only safe place left was Hogwarts, since Voldemort was known to fear Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard alive to date.

I was horrified. I couldn't understand why people would do this. Especially that Lestrange woman, she sounded so….revolting, for want of a better word. Still, I wondered what my parents had to do with this. Hopefully it wouldn't be anything too bad….

"Just when there seemed to be no hope for the Wizarding World, the now world famous event occurred. On Halloween night, 1981, Voldemort was making his way down a lonely road in Godric's Hollow, the site of his next murder. Thanks to his informant, he knew exactly where his victims would be."

I thought this was supposed to be a history book, not a suspenseful thriller like the ones my dad likes to read! Honestly, get to the point! I flipped the page hastily, and gawked at the words I saw printed on the top of the page.

"He was after a family called the Potters, a young couple with a young child. To this day, no one is entirely sure why, though many theories have been written (See Chapter Five). When he threw open the door, James was there, in a defensive stance, but wandless. Voldemort killed him ruthlessly. All evidence suggests that he immediately upstairs to where he found Lily. He killed her too, most likely without hesitation. Then he turns on the baby, Harry. He shouted the curse "Avada Kedavra!", but in a case that defies all magical laws, it doesn't work. In fact, it rebounds onto Voldemort, destroying the house, and most everything with it. No one has ever discovered what happened to Lord Voldemort, but scarcely anyone believes him dead."

Again, so dramatic. My mind registered this while the rest of my body was freaking out. My hands shook and my mouth seemed to be moving of its own accord, no sound coming out of it.

"What followed was absolute chaos. For when Voldemort cast his curse, the whole house exploded. Muggles surrounded the place, shocked, scared, and confused. But before the Ministry of Magic could arrive, two wizards caught everyone's attention."

"They were Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black. They were standing at opposite ends of the street, wands drawn."

Sirius Black. Sirius….Sirius…..my brother, Sirius.

"Lily & James, Sirius! How could you do this to them? You were their Secret Keeper, and you betrayed them to Voldemort!" Pettigrew shouted.

Secret Keeper. He was probably a friend….best friend, if they named Sirius after him. How…could…they? Confusion and shock took me over for a minute before I continued reading. It seemed to be an automatic reflex.

"Black just laughs. He then proceeds to cast a spell that destroys the whole street, killing twelve Muggles and Pettigrew. The only remains found of him was his thumb."

That wasn't the end of the chapter, but I slammed the book shut anyway, unable to read anymore. Without really knowing what I was doing, I walked out of my room and returned the book to its proper place on the shelf, then walked back to my room to absorb what I had read.

It wasn't a moment too soon, because just as I started to think about it, Mum knocked on the door. "Can I come in?" Lily Potter asked sweetly.

"Sure." I said, sitting up, surprised my voice was still working.

She opened the door and walked in. She was smiling widely as she sat on the bed next to me.

"So did you get along fine without us?" She asked.

"Of course, Mum, we always do."

She laughed. "There's a first time for everything, and with you two, I'm surprised that first time hasn't happened yet."

I pretended to be offended. "Mum, I am appalled at your utter lack of confidence in me."

She still grinned. "I'm sorry, hun. I knew you'd be fine, of course. So, what were you up to while we went to Hogsmeade?"

The lie came to me easily, as they always do. "Oh, I just read mostly. And I worked on a new song."

Mum has always been totally supportive of my musical tendencies. "Ooh, can I hear it sometime?"

"'Course you can."

Standing up, she said "I look forward to it. But I'd better go check on Sirius, make sure he hasn't blown up his room or something."

I nodded and said "Okay." She left the room, and I was left alone to my thoughts.

So, I had a twin brother who was famous for surviving Voldemort, parents who were supposed to be dead, a little brother who was named after a murderer, and a whole lot of confusion about the rest of the story.

I looked down at the green, spiraling marks on my arms and started to cry.