Sometimes beneath masks there is something magnificent something so special that no mind could imagine it. This mask started way back in a time when technology was just a dream and magic ruled the lands. When innocence was something to be treasured and not lost, in a time when elves played among the trees and warlocks and dragons came out to play.
Asha Mae was always the outcast in the forest always refusing to play with the children, always choosing to read books instead. They teased her about it constantly calling her Book-worm or Librarian (librarian was a great insult as it was the lowest position in her society). Even the adults did it some times 'accidently' of course. That is why after another day of insulting she found herself crying in a clearing just on the border of her clan. This clearing was her safe spot nobody ever came here except her friends (the animals). At least that's what she thought.
Behind a tree a man was listening. He had once had messy black hair and twinkling emerald eyes but now it was all gone ad he had long grey hair and his once twinkling eyes were dull with the truth of life. All day he had been listening to the girl and her experiences and now here he was listening to the soft sobbing of a distraught girl who was clinging to the hope that someone out there loved here or at least liked her forwho she was rather than who she appears to be. His heart ached of pain long ago when a boy had been in that same position crying his eyes out and wishing for someone to wisk him away. He slowly stepped out from behind the tree.
Asha gasped she hadn't realised anyone else was here. Hope started to grow within her chest but she squashed it down quickly no one did help no one would why should she hope fruitlessly.
The man had seen the hope start to grow in the young girls sea blue eyes but his heart sunk when it was crushed down. So he asked the most obviousquestion in the world to ask, "Why are you crying?"
She looked at the man suspisciously "Why do you want to know?"
The man sat down almost sitting on her long black curls that flowed over the branch she was sitting on. She quickly pulled he hair out of the wayand her suspiscion increased tenfold when he jumped on the branch with more energy than his years should have allowed. "It's rude to answer a question with another question you know." He stated matter of factly.
She replied quite defensively with a "I know."
"So are you gonna answer my question?" He asked. He hoped she would he knew she felt defensive but he knew from experience that talking helped.
A curt "No!" answered back so he settled down to tell his story so that hopefully she would help herself by talking to him.
"Ok I'm going to tell you a story. This story is about a boy named Harry Potter. Harry had a lot of pressure pushed onto his shoulders at a young age and this story is about how he was betrayed loved and found his heritage during his teenage years. I'm gonna start at the beginning when Harry was a baby when his parents died and when Harry Potter suddenly became The-Boy-Who-Lived.