Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's contents.
Prologue.
Malfoy. Potter. Granger. Weasley.
What is in a name?
Individuality? Certainly not. People all over the globe may share a common name. It doesn't allow one to stand out.
Originality? No. A name is just another label a person must carry.
Family history? Perhaps. But does one really wish to be judged by their ancestors' actions, whether they be good or bad? I would say not.
No matter what your view on the subject, I have my own. I suppose that's how everything works. Everyone disagreeing on various subjects.
But I'm getting sidetracked. Let's get back on topic.
Names.
This whole thing started with a name. Most things normally do. It's amazing how a name can be muttered, shouted, sighed with so much emotion backing it through a persons lips.
Yes. Simply a name. More specifically, my name. A name that caused so much discomfort, anger, happiness, hate, disgust, confusion, love, betrayal, and sorrow.
Yes, just a name.
Malfoy.
Echora Arabella Selene Malfoy.
I hate that name though. Call me Echo.
A/N: This is my first ever fan fiction. Please be nice, but do tell me what I could improve on. Thanks!
-- A.M. Foxe