Prologue 2

Four Years Before

"Father! Father, we're home!"

Young Faramir and his older brother Boromir had just returned home for Christmas break. This had been the beginning of Faramir's first year at Hogwarts, and he was beyond excited. He couldn't wait to tell his father everything that had happened to him since he had seen him last. Not that he hadn't written letters, of course. Faramir had written letters home every week, but his father had never written him back.

Faramir dropped his bags by the door and ran to meet his father. They lived in an immense house, and his father's study was in the back. Once he was in the doorway, however, Faramir repressed his excitement and collected himself. One had to be calm and respectful in the presence of his father.

Faramir cleared his throat and knocked on the door. "Father?"

He heard a grunt and then his father say, "Yes, come in."

Faramir gingerly opened the door. "Hello, Father. I've missed you. I have so much I want to tell you."

"I'm sure you do, son." Denethor sighed and tapped his fingers on his desk. Faramir stiffened. This wasn't a good sign. A lecture was coming on.

"Tell me, Faramir, what house did you get into?"

Until know, Faramir would have answered that question with pride. "Hufflepuff," he replied. "I told you that in one of my letters."

"Ah, yes." Denethor picked up a stack of opened letters from his desk. "These." He tossed them into the rubbish bin. Faramir tried not to appear heartbroken.

"And tell me, Faramir, what is your favorite class?"

"History of magic."

Denethor simply shook his head. "What am I going to do with you? Why can't you be more like your brother?" He slammed his hand down onto the desk, startling Faramir. "At least he got into a worthy house! Gryffindor, the brave and strong! Worthy traits, just like your brother has. But you? No, you get into Hufflepuff. Nothing good ever comes out of a Hufflepuff. Not to mention your love of lore and music, when you could be considering braver endeavors, like your brother!"

Faramir tried to stay still. Boromir being the favorite was no secret to him. But feeling like a complete disappointment was not something he enjoyed. "I'm sorry, Father. But I am not Boromir."

"Well I wish you were!"

Faramir took that moment to leave the study. He couldn't take much of that. Ever since their mother had died, his father had acted like that. And he hated on Faramir more and more as time went on. It wasn't pleasant.

As he rounded the halls, he ran into his brother. "How was your talk with Father?" His brother asked.

"Not good," Faramir answered, trying his best to keep his composure. "He feels I am a disappointment. He hates that I was sorted into Hufflepuff."

"Hey." Boromir put his hand on Faramir's shoulder. "Do not take his words so harshly. He himself was a Slytherin, and people like that are quick to judge. No matter what house you are in, you can do great things, brother. I believe in you."

Faramir smiled, but just barely. "Thank you, brother."

Boromir smiled back. "Now come. I'll teach you how to get through Professor Elrond's assignments."