So, this is Hogwarts. Different. Not how I expected. Then again, nothing
ever is.
Being raised by a Death Eater is not a quiet life. It's always "Devin, you're to follow the Dark Lord!" It's not like I don't want to; it's more like I think he's a fool. Yes, I said it. I think Lord Voldemort is a fool. Shocked, are you? Good. Because he is, and if you don't see that, then you must be blind. He's not that scary, in reality.
Then there's the fact that besides being the daughter of a Death Eater, he's not my real father. Nope, Michael Orsino is, in actuality, my foster father. Although I love him, I was taken away from him at the age of eleven when he was caught by Aurors, ten years after the fall of the Dark Lord, and sent to Azkaban. I was to be shipped of to Durmstrang that year anyway, so no one really worried about where I was to stay. I'd simply stay at school. Yeah, like it's that simple to tear me away from the only love I've ever had in my life. Michael is not a typical Death Eater – he has compassion. True, it is mostly reserved for me, but he has it nonetheless.
Do you want to know the strangest part of my upbringing? It was realized, after a year of my staying with whom we all believed to be my father, that he wasn't actually my blood at all! There had been a mix-up at the hospital. His wife had died in labor, and he took me home instead of his own child. How a hospital can make that kind of mistake, I've still to figure out. But it happened.
After that, I couldn't very well go back to my real parents, even though I was a year old and had no say in the matter. They were dead. Lord Voldemort had killed them. I still, to this day, feel no remorse for it. I mean, I never knew them. My father is sitting in a cell in the infamous wizard prison, going insane. Now that I have remorse for.
The strangest twist to my story is this: My parents were Lily and James Potter.
Yes, I am the lost child of two of the most famous wizards in this century. And I am sister to THE most famous – Harry Potter. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Boy Wonder… the goody two shoes. The suck up. The pig faced –
Wait. I can't call him pig-faced. After all, we are twins. Not identical, since we are of different genders (duh) but pretty damn close. As close as fraternal twins can get, I expect. And to think, I've never even met him. The old quack that runs the school informed me of our likeness.
Yes. I just called Albus Dumbledore an old quack. To tell you the truth, I have no admiration for him whatsoever. He seems quite plain and boring to me. Then again, I also hated Igor Karkaroff. But that's not exactly hard.
Why I am being transferred to Hogwarts for my fifth year of school is quite beyond my knowledge. The temporary headmistress at Durmstrang, Professor Bluefeather (such an idiotic name, is it not?) received word from Dumbledore over the Christmas break. I was to be transferred immediately. Bluefeather agreed, and so here I am, the first day after the start of second term.
The year should prove to be interesting, indeed.
Being raised by a Death Eater is not a quiet life. It's always "Devin, you're to follow the Dark Lord!" It's not like I don't want to; it's more like I think he's a fool. Yes, I said it. I think Lord Voldemort is a fool. Shocked, are you? Good. Because he is, and if you don't see that, then you must be blind. He's not that scary, in reality.
Then there's the fact that besides being the daughter of a Death Eater, he's not my real father. Nope, Michael Orsino is, in actuality, my foster father. Although I love him, I was taken away from him at the age of eleven when he was caught by Aurors, ten years after the fall of the Dark Lord, and sent to Azkaban. I was to be shipped of to Durmstrang that year anyway, so no one really worried about where I was to stay. I'd simply stay at school. Yeah, like it's that simple to tear me away from the only love I've ever had in my life. Michael is not a typical Death Eater – he has compassion. True, it is mostly reserved for me, but he has it nonetheless.
Do you want to know the strangest part of my upbringing? It was realized, after a year of my staying with whom we all believed to be my father, that he wasn't actually my blood at all! There had been a mix-up at the hospital. His wife had died in labor, and he took me home instead of his own child. How a hospital can make that kind of mistake, I've still to figure out. But it happened.
After that, I couldn't very well go back to my real parents, even though I was a year old and had no say in the matter. They were dead. Lord Voldemort had killed them. I still, to this day, feel no remorse for it. I mean, I never knew them. My father is sitting in a cell in the infamous wizard prison, going insane. Now that I have remorse for.
The strangest twist to my story is this: My parents were Lily and James Potter.
Yes, I am the lost child of two of the most famous wizards in this century. And I am sister to THE most famous – Harry Potter. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Boy Wonder… the goody two shoes. The suck up. The pig faced –
Wait. I can't call him pig-faced. After all, we are twins. Not identical, since we are of different genders (duh) but pretty damn close. As close as fraternal twins can get, I expect. And to think, I've never even met him. The old quack that runs the school informed me of our likeness.
Yes. I just called Albus Dumbledore an old quack. To tell you the truth, I have no admiration for him whatsoever. He seems quite plain and boring to me. Then again, I also hated Igor Karkaroff. But that's not exactly hard.
Why I am being transferred to Hogwarts for my fifth year of school is quite beyond my knowledge. The temporary headmistress at Durmstrang, Professor Bluefeather (such an idiotic name, is it not?) received word from Dumbledore over the Christmas break. I was to be transferred immediately. Bluefeather agreed, and so here I am, the first day after the start of second term.
The year should prove to be interesting, indeed.