Harry Potter Fanfic [Keyword Love – Prologue]
So, my pet-peeve when it comes to 'this' type of fanfiction is that it never makes sense in my head that two extremely sexy young men who hate each other could ever be together, but that doesn't mean that there aren't ways around that! I know that people don't always like the original characters that FFauthors come up with, but it makes so much more sense in my head, so please forgive me!
i really hope you enjoy, i know its not much, but i do plan on writing a little every week, 'hopefully start a weekly upload or something like that.
hit me up so i know how you like it! PM me, send me an e-mail, write a review, whatever! Just let me hear you, it'll keep me going, promise! =)
Note: I totally understand that people don't like their favorite pairings corrupted by OC's, so if you don't wanna deal or don't have time/patience, feel free to skip to CH1, theres a one-line recap on what you would be missing. PEACE!
I was a first-year just before everything went down. I was so happy to learn that an owl had delivered that sacred letter to me on my eleventh birthday. I wasn't sure that I would be attending Hogwarts… you see, it was a long standing joke that magic skipped a generation in my family, or that only one child would get it. Rubbish, I know, but that's what my sister and I grew up believing. You can imagine how happy I was to learn that the tales had only been my father's teasing, and the next day, I was off with mum to Diagon Alley to get my first wand—but you don't want to hear about that, you want the… "juicy" details about my prank that would have girls at Hogwarts giggling in reminiscence for ages.
Harry Potter was always my idol, always someone that I looked up to and, I admit, had a bit of a celebrity crush on… even though I happen to be a boy. He just seemed so cool, and my sister Brianna agreed. She would tell me stories every summer about how the little guy did this or that, how he would get into little fights with a boy named Draco Malfoy, who apparently had devilish good looks. She's graduated, my sis, not top of her class or anything, but was nicknamed Brew the Potions Mistress by her last year for her outstanding ability to mix potions and the like. So, one day, without any kind of reason or mental trigger, an idea hatched in my head. Sis always kept damn near a hundred potions stocked up in her closet back home, she would mix them at the kitchen table as dinner was being prepared and she and my parents would wash the dishes together. It was no doubt thanks to her that my plan would be a success. I grabbed two vials before departing that day: a blue one and a pink one, an experimental one and a fail-proof one—an invisibility potion and a love potion.
Although my sister was placed in Ravenclaw when she first stepped foot in the miraculous castle which was Hogwarts, I was honored enough to be placed in Griffindor. Excellent. It seemed to be fate, getting into that house, every ten year old wizard or witch knew of the house's reputation, and more and more wished to be placed there, I was just lucky enough to beat the crowd. Now that I was in, I had to stay focused. I knew that school was important, and I was ecstatic to be there, but I had a mission, and that mission had an agenda that had to be kept no matter what.
The first thing on my devious things-to-do list was to find the brilliant, legendary, dreamy young man who sat at the other end of the Griffindor table. It wasn't too difficult to guess where he was sitting, especially after a few days, just look for the red hair. My sister had told me that Harry always hung around his friends, one of which had red hair. Sure enough I saw only five, maybe six or seven red-heads at the table, and one was sitting across from my hero. I could see the lightning stigma from my seat as clear as day. Target confirmed. I would have to bide my time, wait to get more of a grasp on this school thing and on how HE worked. Oh, and I'm not a total creep, I had made friends by day one, so don't picture me as the little kid with the creeper spiral glasses poking his head around the corner that everyone thought was weird, I just needed to see this through.
A week went by and I already had my shoe in the door. My friend Maxxie had been more than willing to help me with my little plan, so we kept our eyes open and before we knew it, we noticed something. Harry and his friends spent practically every night talking by the fireplace in the common room, the best part was that they also had a tendency to sit there with drinks, be it butter-beer or hot chocolate or whatever. So, on our second Thursday as Hogwarts students, we decided to take what would probably be the biggest risk we would ever take as students. That night I pulled the two vials from my bag, downed the invisibility potion, and prepared the other for use. I would have to slip it into his drink, and then make sure that the first name he heard was… well, you know.
"Holy taco! Oh, I mean… you wouldn't happen to be Harry Potter would you?" Maxxie asked, kind of. The words sort of stumbled off of his tongue, he was nervous, and his knees were shaking. Come on, mate, just get 'em going for a minute or two, please! I thought to myself.
Harry chuckled. "Holy taco? That's new, I like it." He smiled and his friends chuckled in the background. Harry grabbed his mug and took a sip. "Yes, I am. Pleasure to meet you… er?"
Realizing that he was meant to fill in the blank, "Maxxie! I- My name is- That is- Maxxie, I'm Maxxie." Oh god… "Sorry," he continued, head slightly tilted down, "not every day you meet a celebrity and all that."
"No worries, mate. We see it a lot," the redhead said. "The name's Ron, Ron Weasley, and this is Her-"
Their friend interjected, "Hermione Granger. Pleasure." She smiled. Woah, her teeth are big. Okay, introductions are over, it should be safe. As they began the expected small talk, I watched carefully. I felt like a secret agent or like a jungle cat, waiting for the perfect moment. It came when the only other boy in the room began walking upstairs. He bid them goodnight, and they replied, "Night, Neville," in unison. At that exact moment, while Harry was turned away from the drink in his hand, I undid the cork and poured the vial's contents into Harry's drink three beats before he took a sip.
Maxxie didn't miss it, clever bloke, because right as I stepped back, he asked, "So who's this Draco Malfoy," the words sounding like a chorus of ghouls to Harry's ears, "I've been hearing so much about?" Good boy, Maxxie. Well done. Job complete, I tiptoed back upstairs and waited. I heard a shattering noise from downstairs. Most likely Harry's mug, my sister's potions were notorious for having a kick to them. Soon after I heard the others.
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked, her shoes clicking as she hurried over to check on him. "Are you—where are you going?"
"I—I don't know." He replied, "I just have to see someone is all, I'll be right back—maybe, I don't know. Just go to sleep, yeah? I'll see you two tomorrow. Good meeting ya Maxxie." And with a swing of a portrait of a seriously large woman, Harry was gone, and my work was done…