Chapter 1: A Stranger Comes To Town
Disclaimer: Don't Own, Don't Sue.
Author's Note: This is a risky one! It'll either be really bad or really good… You tell me which, by reviewing, okay? This chapter is obviously in Harry's perspective. And I need a beta really bad. So get to me about that. Fast.
Harry:
A wonderful writer once told me about the "Hero's Journey," created by the muggle Joseph Campbell. She said it started with a hero coming to town. A hero coming to town, or someone leaving home. The more I think about the Hero's Journey, and the more I think about my journey, I realize that those are one and the same. When a stranger comes to town, he's left his home. And another great story begins.
My story, however, didn't start that way. Not in my eyes. Others involved might tell you I was that stranger, coming to their town. Some might tell you that I left home, without saying my goodbyes. But the way I see it, it all came about with the last step of the Hero's Journey: the return home.
I was at Hogwarts my 6th year when I became aware of my heritage. I would imagine that's when Draco found out as well, but I don't really know for sure: we never talked about it.
Draco Malfoy had come back to school different that year: quiet, composed, and almost shy. He made it that much harder to hate him. He always sat in the second-to-last row, on the edge desk. I thought it was an insecurity thing. I figured he just didn't want to be noticed. It wasn't a shy thing, I'd come to find out. But I was right in that he didn't want anyone to notice him.
I kept to myself all that year, too. Growing further apart from my Griffindor friends than I ever had before. Hermione was worried: I could see it in the way she looked at me. She always had this stare she used when she was trying to figure someone out. Eventually, she'd stopped trying, with me.
I thought more and more about that Slytherin Ice Prince. I fought less with him then. When we did fight, it didn't hold the same kind of anger. Draco had simply lost his malice over the summer.
But about my return home. It wasn't any kind of home I'd thought of having. Apparently, according to a somewhat baffled and apologetic Dumbledore, I hadn't been born in England. I was carried and born on the island 'Cantani,' which was not of the wizzarding world. I remember being so shocked to hear of yet another culture only some knew existed. I don't know why I was so surprised, really. It had happened to me before. Had I really thought it would stop there?
It seems that everyone was in such a state about what happened to my family after my birth, with the Dark Lord and all, they hadn't stopped to think about my somewhat questionable appearance on the face of the earth. No one fully realized, and I'm sure some don't still, that my mother wasn't a muggle at all. Lilly Potter was, indeed, another kind of creature entirely.
Author's Note:
Review your hearts out. Offer to be my beta. Have a wonderful day.
TruestBlue