Disclaimer: If you recognize any of the characters/objects/settings/etc. that corresponds to the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling, they do not belong to me.
Prologue
I saw him, mostly out of the corner of my eye, away from all the hubbub of normalcy. Away from the lives that we built around the people that knew us. I saw him for the boy he really was. Tired, wary, down trodden, dirty, unloved, and poorly treated. I saw him with a family of muggles, trudging along after them, carrying their things, listlessly staring off into space while a fat man berated him, and then stiffly taking a cuff to the head from said fat man with a glare. He didn't say a single word the whole time.
I nearly didn't even recognize him. I barely glanced at him, but looked again when I saw shaggy black hair and terribly outdated round, wire rimmed glasses. I stared for a good two minutes before decided that really was him. The glare he sent at the fat man was the mirror image of the one usually directed at me.
For a moment I entertained the thought of going over there to rub it in his face how he was clearly a mere serf to these people, but something held me back. Perhaps it was the utterly pathetic air of the whole situation. Perhaps I was in a particularly giving mood. Perhaps I just figured he was doing a good enough job of making a worthless wretch out of himself without me. Whatever it was, I was exceptionally less malicious to my house elf that night, and would later try to convince myself that I did NOT pity or feel remorseful for Potter at all.
A/N: I have NO idea how this came around. It just suddenly bit me in the ass out of nowhere. In fact, I wasn't even reading/looking at/thinking about Harry Potter at the time. I swear, without warning, this happened. I don't know where it will lead me or if I'll even be continuing it. It's rated T for now, but if I do continue with it, it might just turn into M. A careful warning for any of you who are anal about ratings.
Ta, lovies! Looking forward to your replies!