Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling. If I were, I would be richer than the queen, and Fred and George would have more lines causing hilarity to ensue wherever went. To be perfectly clear, I do not and never have owned Harry Potter, and unless my lemonade stand picks up soon, I probably never will.
A/N: My first fic, hope you like it. Dedicated to Vivian, may Ron and Hermione realize they love each other at last.
The proud parents looked down at me, exhausted but happy. There was a strange light in their eyes. A fierce, blazing hope that burned there. A hope for my future, a belief that I could do anything.
Although this mysterious light was absent throughout the latter part of my childhood, and gone completely from my adult years, I would always remember, or perhaps only imagine, the way they looked at me when I was new and unspoilt. When I could be anything; except for the monster that I would eventually become.I think that I might have been happy then. I must have been happy throughout my uneventful early childhood. However, perhaps happiness is not the best way to begin my story, as happiness has never been quick or easy in coming to me. My story only really begins with a bite.
"I suppose that's where all this starts--with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten...and if I hadn't been so foolhardy...."-PoA