Introducción
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I merely claim Chanda and other characters I make as well as plot ideas, etc.
Summary: Chanda Duquore. Her name means fierce. Quite honestly, a paralyzed snail is fiercer than she. When her parents die, she moves in with her Grandmother. She's hoping for a fresh start and a happy life. But her new life encounters Harry Potter who finds this muggle will become the world to him. But with Voldemort breathing down Harry's back, that can't happen... right?
Words to know:
Introducción - Introduction
When I was little, I would cry over the littlest of details. Spilt milk, scrapes, name calling, anger, anything sent tears streaming down my face. Mom always said that my element was water. "Water is good." she would say. "It can wash away the earth, put fire out, and gives life." But still, my father was ashamed. It took my parents many times and many sorrows until I was born. A miracle baby I was called. Mom was declared infertile and no son could be born. He tried to make me tough. I cried. He gave up.
I was the sensitive kid at school. I saved the bugs and spiders and helped other children who were hurting. I would stand up to the bullies, only to be hit, and of course on came the waterworks, a free show to the raining parade. I was a mess. I gained the nickname 'Blue'. My eyes are purely aquamarine, big, with blonde eyelashes. They always seemed to be swimming in water. I was picked on, what child wasn't? I slowly morphed into a wallflower. I was silent a lot of time. It never bothered me though, I found I was a better friend than anyone I had met so far.
I'm 16 years old now, my birthday is September 1st. I'll be going into 11th grade, my junior year of high school. I get relatively good grades. Books are the loves of my life and knowledge is my greatest weapon.
My looks are normal I suppose. I have simple blue eyes and blonde hair. It's pretty long, down to the bottom of my back, with two shorter strands that go to my chin and frame my face. I have a pixie-like face: the whole pixie nose, big eyes, plump lips, rosy cheeks, and pale hues kind of deal. I stand at five feet and two and a half inches tall.
The only athletic activity I do is running. I'm on the cross-country team and quite well at it. Running just helps to clear my mind and gives me comfort. It's really the only thing I'm good at besides academics. The one thing my father was ever really proud of was my physical achievements.
It hurt a lot to not have the true love of my father. Make no mistake though, he loved me, he was just disappointed in me which hurt far more than no love at all. I sobbed a lot for my Dad. For the times we could have spent together. It hurts to know that I will never be able to win his respect and love now. You see, we lived in Spain for most of my life. My father was a naval officer for the English Navy and my mother was his young bride from Wales. Even growing up in Madrid, I never was able to tan well. My Dad and Mom were at a banquet for the Queen. She was visiting the various naval commands and some radicals who don't like the English presence here in Spain attacked. My parents were killed.
The funeral was a blur. Trumpets and guns, speeches and tears, "They were brave souls who died for their country and their Queen." and it bothered me. These people didn't know my parents. But then again, did I? I remember standing there, watching the whole scene, as though I was watching a black and white silent film. There were many tears that day. And for the first time in my life, they weren't mine. It was strange to not cry. I suppose the blow was too big, the pain so terrible, that I locked it away, never to be thought of again. Many pats on the back, tearful hugs, and lots of black, later it was decided that I would go live with my Grandmother.
I'm now on a plane to her house in Little Whinging, England. It will sure be strange to live there. Strange not having the sun on my back at all times. Strange not to hear Spanish being spoken at the market or the lullabies my Mother sang to me. Many strange things will happen, but I'm embracing them with open arms. A fresh start is just what I need to break out of my shell. I can only hope my new life in England will be a happy one.