Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just this plotline.
A picture is worth a thousand words, and a painting is worth a million. Photos are instant, while paintings take time. In the time span of a moment a single brush stroke is made.
The shiny glass look of a photograph could never compare to the beauty of a painting made by man and brush. Each swipe of the brush against the canvas tells another story. It shows what the artist sees.
I see myself in both photographs and paintings, and each time I look different than before. Whether it is my hair growing longer or darker, my skin turning into alabaster, or my eyes getting darker. Never is my appearance the same. My reflection in a mirror has much the same results. I never look like myself, for I do not know what I really look like.
When I was younger my hair was gold, now it is a chocolate brown. My eyes a vibrant green, they sued to be a dull blue color. I used to have a healthy brown undertone to my skin, but now I don't even hold the faintest tan to my flesh.
I have researched this, and there is no explanation as to why my body does what it does I have been to doctors, and even world renowned specialists, but no one can tell me why this is happening.
In two weeks I return to school, my sixth year attending. I received my class schedule last week, and had my books and other materials delivered to my home. I have scheduled for a cab to pick me up and take me to the train station. My parents are not here to see me off this year; they are at a dental conference in France right now.
I am used to having to go through this every year, my parents are never around. They are always at work or at some conference in a foreign country. They haven't really been around since I received my first letter when I was eleven. They could not seem to comprehend the fact that their daughter was a witch. I cannot help what I am, and I know that it is unnatural to them. But shouldn't they at least try to understand me?
I know that for the past five years I have told everyone at school that my parents are loving, and the best of the bunch, but really they are not. They are not the model parents that I make them out to be. What kind of model parent abandons their only child?
Honestly since these changes have occurred I am not completely sure that I am their child. Nothing adds up right. As school I have researched muggle-borns, and I don't match up. While they are able to produce and use magic, it has never been reported that they could learn as quickly as I do, or that they could become so advanced. They do not hold enough magical capability in their blood. Yes, it all goes back to the blood, not the person themselves. I guess after all these years the pure-bloods were right with what they believed. Or at least they were half right. While muggle-borns do not learn at a fast rate, they still learn, but after a while of not being successful they give up, and that is what makes their magical ability weak, it's not just the blood. It is in the mind as well.
Each and every time my parents are out I look around the family home—more like mansion—for anything that mentions me. For my birth, my mother's pregnancy. So far I have found nothing. I can't even find my birth certificate. I know the quickest way would be to ask them, but in order to do that; they would actually have to be here.
I dream about what my life would be like if the Grangers weren't my parents. I know that it seems horrible that I do such a thing, but who could blame me, they have practically abandoned me. The people I envision as my parents never have a face; it is always blank, or kept out of my sight. I feel as though I really know them, and I can't quite put my finger on it.
I write in this journal more than what is considered healthy. I use it as an escape, a way to clear my head. This little book I hold in my hand is who I am, what I truly believe in. I do not know what I would be like if I did not have such a thing. I hide everything from everyone, even Harry and Ron. I cannot afford to be myself around others; I would be considered more of a freak than I am now.
Now I just have to find out the truth about myself.