Star-Crossed Lives

Prologue

Two houses, both alike in dignity,
In mighty Hogwarts, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where muggle blood makes civil wands unclean.
From forth the fatal Sorting Hat,
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their name
Their forbidden love before unheard of
Will earn the trust of enemies and change
The future of the magical community
If they can overcome their prejudiced pride
And unite those who evil forces strive to divide.

Disclaimer: This is my own version of Shakespeare's prologue to Romeo and Juliet; the non-Potter parts are all his.

Disclaimer: The rest of this story is all Hpff, all the familiar parts are property of JK Rowling.

A teenage girl was walking in a dark corridor of stone that was lit by flaming torches hanging from metal brackets at intervals along the endless walls, casting light below them and not quite reaching the ceiling far overhead. With a wary look in her sly, dark eyes, the girl paused, listening, hearing something or someone that wasn't visible. With a look of determination, she whipped out a short stick from the pocket of her strange black robes and turned to face the approaching threat. It turned out to be nothing more than a beady eyed dog, with an ugly, smushed face, but when it saw her, it immediately began to bark loudly.

With her long dark hair and robes flowing behind her, the girl fled down the corridor, into another, and then at last she approached a statue of a one-eyed old woman, tapped it with her wooden stick, and seemed to disappear. The scene stayed focused on the empty corridor until several men came blundering into view, shouting and thrusting their sticks around, somehow casting light from them.

"It was a student, Headmaster! A student out of bed, I declare! Hunter does not bark for naught!" Urged an old man who was now quieting the dog. He addressed a man stately dressed in swirling green robes with silver embroidery at the collar and sleeves.

"We must find them at once! Who is guarding the Goblet?" Another of the men put forth.

"Well, as it seems, no one, since you are all HERE having a mad dash around the corridors when there is no one in sight, because of a mad dog," intoned the man in green coldly. "You all had better get back to the Goblet and leave for NOTHING. Hogwarts will not have an unworthy Champion because of you fools who think chasing dogs is more important than guarding the integrity of this school and of all of Wizardkind, which is already obviously lacking!"

The men quickly cleared out and a heavy silence fell.

Catherine Hearst woke with a start, lying in a meadow golden with windflowers. She looked up sadly at the setting June sun. The time for dreaming was over, she knew… she would have to go back to the house soon. Her father would be expecting dinner, and he didn't like to be kept waiting. She quickly stood up and brushed the grass of her jeans and sweatshirt, and ran toward home.

If it could even be called a home. Catherine couldn't really remember the times when her family had been happy, when her parents had been so in love and proud of her and her brother and her brother had been kind to her. She was too young to know when something wasn't right, when her mother had begun to slowly drift away from them.

She didn't think about those days now...it hurt too much. She was ten years old, living with her father, spending her days placating him and counting the seconds until she could lock herself in her bedroom, or escape outside. School wasn't much comfort, seeing as she only had one friend, and not a close one at that. She spent most schooldays absently drawing or writing, writing, writing. She drew scenes from her dreams, and wrote stories about castles of stone and magic and bravery and love…all things that eluded her. Her tattered clothing and messy hair didn't exactly make the other kids love her at school, and since her brother had run off several years ago and never come back, there was no love at home. The only person who was nice to Catherine was one girl at school, Mary MacDonald. But Mary MacDonald was nice to everyone.