A/N: I don't own anything. I got this idea from the Billy Joel song
"Keeping the faith" but then I got hit with a great idea for a prologue. A
long story coming up, I think. Any suggestions will be appreciated. Hang on
for the ride, I think you'll enjoy. There will be longer chapters coming
up, promise. I already have chapter 4 written.
The first few years of a person's life are the most crucial for us all. They shape the foundation on which that person's life will be built. They create morals, establish habits, and instill traditions which will follow a person to their grave. And yet, not one of us can honestly say they can remember the majority of these milestone years.
Bet you thought I was going to say I was different, right? Well, surprise, you're wrong. I'm no different from you in that aspect. I can't remember seeing my momma for the first time, or my first laugh or joke. We're the same in that respect. But that's where our similarities end.
You're a muggle. I know you are, no wizard alive would take pleasure out of reading this type of thing off of a computer. That's a huge difference right there.
But I'm different from most wizards, even. They are fortunate enough not be held a prisoner of the moon once a month in the way I am. Admitted, some of the female persuasion might argue, but their torments are nothing, nothing to what I have suffered and am constantly suffering.
Now, about 1970 years after some man was nailed to a cross for saying how good it would be to be nice to there people for a change, there lived a boy. Not a particularly extraordinary boy, but a boy nonetheless. He lived with his family, had lots of money, and was the most miserable boy alive, just because he was different. This is his story.
The simplest way to start all stories, I suppose, is at the beginning. So, that is where this story will begin.
It begins with a house.
~~~~~
It wasn't a house that you'd call remarkable, it was standard of the area it was in. but I grew up in this house, the first part as any boy would. The house was an old wizarding house, complete with gnomes, ghosts, and a genuine house-elf. In this house lived a family. My family, most importantly. The family in the house was well off, and even though they all had been Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, they stressed the importance of purity of blood. Their reasoning behind this was based largely off of early muggle history.
In the wizarding world, witches often rival men in terms of powers. Women are mostly more powerful than men, and are treated with respect because of that. Throughout all of Muggle history, however, women were downtrodden and squashed. Early wizards were disgusted with this, and these reactions started the cracks that would eventually widen into the chasms between muggle and mage worlds.
My family, however, was not violent about their beliefs. Not one of them could be accused of being a Death Eater, because they, much like the Weasley and Potter families, still felt that the two worlds could be re- joined into one. The topic of inter-house politics was one often discussed at family meeting and holidays, but I was never included in these, if only because I was so young.
And then came the accident. I had carelessly wandered away from my home one evening, hoping to explore my family's massive estate in more detail. To this day I don't remember how it happened, but it came to pass that I was bitten by a werewolf.
My parents, horrified, unbelieving, and powerless, had brought me into the house and into a room upstairs that was rarely used. I was to stay there while they contacted a medi-wizard the next morning. I remember, I waited all night, without the comfort of a parents, without a transformation to confirm my fears, and without a complete understanding of how my life was to change.
Quotes taken from introduction of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. An immensely funny read. Also inspired by Pheonix Ashes by Aimee Carter.
I love reviews… I love reviews… I'm feeling unloved… Love Me!
The first few years of a person's life are the most crucial for us all. They shape the foundation on which that person's life will be built. They create morals, establish habits, and instill traditions which will follow a person to their grave. And yet, not one of us can honestly say they can remember the majority of these milestone years.
Bet you thought I was going to say I was different, right? Well, surprise, you're wrong. I'm no different from you in that aspect. I can't remember seeing my momma for the first time, or my first laugh or joke. We're the same in that respect. But that's where our similarities end.
You're a muggle. I know you are, no wizard alive would take pleasure out of reading this type of thing off of a computer. That's a huge difference right there.
But I'm different from most wizards, even. They are fortunate enough not be held a prisoner of the moon once a month in the way I am. Admitted, some of the female persuasion might argue, but their torments are nothing, nothing to what I have suffered and am constantly suffering.
Now, about 1970 years after some man was nailed to a cross for saying how good it would be to be nice to there people for a change, there lived a boy. Not a particularly extraordinary boy, but a boy nonetheless. He lived with his family, had lots of money, and was the most miserable boy alive, just because he was different. This is his story.
The simplest way to start all stories, I suppose, is at the beginning. So, that is where this story will begin.
It begins with a house.
~~~~~
It wasn't a house that you'd call remarkable, it was standard of the area it was in. but I grew up in this house, the first part as any boy would. The house was an old wizarding house, complete with gnomes, ghosts, and a genuine house-elf. In this house lived a family. My family, most importantly. The family in the house was well off, and even though they all had been Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, they stressed the importance of purity of blood. Their reasoning behind this was based largely off of early muggle history.
In the wizarding world, witches often rival men in terms of powers. Women are mostly more powerful than men, and are treated with respect because of that. Throughout all of Muggle history, however, women were downtrodden and squashed. Early wizards were disgusted with this, and these reactions started the cracks that would eventually widen into the chasms between muggle and mage worlds.
My family, however, was not violent about their beliefs. Not one of them could be accused of being a Death Eater, because they, much like the Weasley and Potter families, still felt that the two worlds could be re- joined into one. The topic of inter-house politics was one often discussed at family meeting and holidays, but I was never included in these, if only because I was so young.
And then came the accident. I had carelessly wandered away from my home one evening, hoping to explore my family's massive estate in more detail. To this day I don't remember how it happened, but it came to pass that I was bitten by a werewolf.
My parents, horrified, unbelieving, and powerless, had brought me into the house and into a room upstairs that was rarely used. I was to stay there while they contacted a medi-wizard the next morning. I remember, I waited all night, without the comfort of a parents, without a transformation to confirm my fears, and without a complete understanding of how my life was to change.
Quotes taken from introduction of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. An immensely funny read. Also inspired by Pheonix Ashes by Aimee Carter.
I love reviews… I love reviews… I'm feeling unloved… Love Me!