Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds.
-Franklin D. Roosevelt

First Year

When I was a child, I remember looking in the sky and seeing the most beautiful display of colors in my whole life. I still have yet to see another one quite like it. It was a rainbow stretching forever behind a large castle not unlike the one I am currently being transported to. It was picturesque, but I still wonder if it is my mother's tears that the bright sun reflected off of. That was the first time I saw my mother cry and her eyes have been dry since then. There were strange men there, also, wearing long black robes and carrying a box embroidered with fine gold. Sometimes I still wonder who they are, but I don't usually dwell on them. They had made my mother cry with their strange words and for that, I don't like them.

I do not know if I'm ready for school yet, also. My parents had said Hogwarts is an excellent school to be attending, but when she said it, my mother's eyes became sad. I already hate it here for making my mother sad.

A woman with a sharp nose and a sharper hat greeted the new first years in the entrance hall, looking down at them one by one. She smiled slightly, relaxing the nervous children if only a little. Had it been the late Professor McGonagall, the first years would be shuddering in their cloaks from the hard look on her face. The new Headmistress, however, had learned to be slightly welcoming in case one or two would faint from stress.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she proclaimed loudly. The hall quieted in a hush. "I'm Professor Clearwater. The start-of-term banquet will start shortly, but before you take your seats, you will be sorted into your houses. Your houses – which consequently are Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor – will be like your families. You will have classes with them, sleep in the same dormitory, and spend your free time in the common room with them." She paused and appraised them once more.

"During the year, points will be given out for good deeds or taken away for rule-breaking to your house and at the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup. The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily." She swept away, leaving the first years gaping at her retreating shadow. Five nervous minutes passed before Professor Clearwater returned and with a wave of her hand, swung open the doors of the Great Hall.

I had hoped to be in Gryffindor, since both my father told me of the strange adventures he had in Hogwarts as a Gryffindor. His intricate stories and exploding hand motions always made my mother smile, but she never joined in with his impromptu plays. Most of the time, he would take me outside to ride on our brooms after, always claiming he missed the days of Quidditch and childhood.

Then I would ask him why he is sending me to a school so far from our home and he would take me in his arms and tell me,

"There are things you need to know there, love. Things you need to discover on your own without us guiding you."

As she read the names of the new students, Professor Clearwater paused after "Ponds, Janice!" The entire Great Hall went silent with her, the cheering from Hufflepuff dying down.

"Potter, Lillian!" She cried. Almost immediately, whispers circled the Hall as a small mousy girl slowly made her way up to the Sorting Hat. She had shockingly dark hair and emerald green eyes, not unlike those of her father. The same thing touched almost every lip in the Great Hall:

"So he's finally out."

Lillian bit her lip as the Hat was placed securely on her head. Soft laughter filled her ears as the Sorting Hat began to talk.

"Well what do we have here? Harry Potter's mythical daughter has come to Hogwarts. Yes, yes, you have a good mind, as clear as your mother's, but a strong courage that has yet to break free. Where to place you, is the question. Well, I suppose it ought to be GRYFFINDOR!" He shouted the last name, followed by a loud roar from the far table. She smiled meekly and hurried over, trying to ignore the strange looks sent her way.

Before I left, my father had pulled me aside and told me to keep an eye out for a boy with white blonde hair and gray eyes. I have. And now my eyes go nowhere else.

"So the famous Harry Potter finally decided to come out of hiding with his bastard daughter?" A cruel voice sneered at Lillian as she passed through the doors of the Great Hall. She stiffened. Her father had told her that it would come. The hatred would come, as well as the whispers and rumors. They had started in Diagon Alley, and haven't ceased.

"I wonder, Potter, why now?" She turned her head over to a boy her age with flaming red hair and pale skin. She bit her lip again, a bad habit she picked up from her mother, and kept silent. He sneered at her again, ignoring the crowd that was surrounding them. He opened his mouth to speak again when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Mr. Weasley, perhaps you missed your house in your... enthusiasm... of seeing Miss Potter. Most of them have already left to become acquainted with their dormitory. I expect you to do the same. Hurry along with Mr. Malfoy now." Lillian looked up to see the Headmaster push the boy none to slightly towards another boy with pale white blonde hair. Him. The Headmaster turned his blank eyes to the rest of the school and they all began walking again.

Lillian made to walk around the Headmaster, but he turned his attention to her.

"A word?" She gulped and nodded, following the Headmaster against the crowd and into the Great Hall again. He turned to her, his black robes billowing around him. "I suppose your father told you of the... circumstances that surround his life?"

"Yes Headmaster," Lillian replied meekly.

"Then I will warn you that there are still those who do not like him and wish to see him destroyed. Be aware, Miss Potter, and do not become as reckless and irresponsible as your father was when he was your age." She nodded timidly. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Potter." He nodded in dismissal.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," she whispered, before hurrying to the door.

"One more thing, Miss Potter." She turned around again. He seemed to pause and rethink his words, his eyes uncertain. "One of the Prefects will be outside waiting to take you to your common room." He finally said before turning around and walking the other way.

My father had laughed when he found out Professor Snape had become Headmaster. He told me of his school days when he was convinced all the way until his sixth year that Professor Severus Snape had hated every bone in his body. They were on amicable terms now, though no one besides my mother has seen and spoke to my father for the past 12 years. She told me my father took her hand and they fell off a cliff into the murky waters of the Atlantic and ended up in the small country of Belize.

They left Belize when I was 5 because of the rising drug trade and unstable economy. We moved to France and changed our names to blend in with the culture there. My father had a problem with learning French, but my mother patiently taught him and I grew up speaking both English and French. I had also picked up Spanish and Creole in Belize, but my stay in France made them a little rusty.

Now I am in England and I'm beginning to understand why my father left.