Thump! Thump!
"Get up." A voice rang through my room as I attempted to free myself from the sheets.
You see, she wasn't the most caring person especially when it came to me. I mean why would she be? My own mother and father didn't even acknowledge me so I doubted she even wanted to look at me. You see I was an accident. Like a giant fuck-up. After all, how could two married people cheat and end up with a baby. Irresponsible adults didn't even bother to use protection. And after everything, they decided to blame it on me: only a new-born baby at the time.
You're probably curious to who I am, so let me give you some clues. My father is Harry James Potter, now Head Auror and Head of Potter, whatever that means. And my mother, well you've definitely heard of her. Hermione Granger, soon to be Minister for Magic, current head of International Cooperation department. So there you have it, the two people who are nearly as fucked up as me. After all, how could you cheat on your wife for your best mate's partner. I'm surprised at 'Uncle' Ron though. He doesn't seem like the man who would forgive and forget easily. Though his wife definitely held grudges. Just not at the right person. My mother hates me because I just remind her of her mistake. But at least her parents tolerate me; I spend at least two weeks in the summer with them, Grandpa Adrien adores me. I hunt and swim super well. At least I got some good genes from the Potters and the Grangers. My father hates me because I fucked up a lot of things in his life, and caused his wife, my mother, and the Weasley's tons of pain. Ginny Weasley, my father's wife hates me, but I understand that. When my mother and her husband refused to take me, my father was forced to claim me as a Potter. That's a big thing for an illegitimate child, and Ginny was not happy.
So my whole family pretty much hates me, a disgrace, disappointment, a general fuck up of a Potter. Though I can happily say that my godparents don't mind me too much. Hannah Abbot, the landlady at the Leaky Cauldron, is my godmother, and always gives me birthday presents. They're mainly expensive clothes. Her family has 'old money' as Ginny calls it. I still don't know what that means. She's married to Neville Longbottom, and they have one son and a daughter. They were only just born as twins, but they're super cute. My godfather is the muggle-born Justin Finch-Fletchley. He's loaded. And nice. But he's a bit caught up in his business which takes him all across the globe, so he doesn't talk to me much or have any children. He always sends me interesting books. But aside from them, I don't have many people on my side. Even my half siblings dislike me. Honestly, I will never know how they were raised. Rose and Hugo are my mother's children, and Albus, Lily and James are on my father's side. James is the eldest, I'm right behind him and Albus and Rose are next. Then there's Lily and Hugo. I'll never understand how my parents managed to have other kids.
They didn't care too much when I was younger. It would just be Ginny, Ron and some other Weasley's glaring at me or saying rude things. But when I got my Hogwarts letter for first year, along with James (third year), you could hear a pin drop at the table. The Weasley's had gathered together at the Burrow, and Ginny stood up and said she wasn't going to take the bastard shopping. Too bad the bastard was me. My father had run after her like a lost puppy. My mother stood up and followed suit, Ron following her like the idiot he was. I looked down the table at my uncles, aunts and kinda grandparents, tears threatening to spill from my somehow blue-grey eyes. In the end Bill decided he would get my Gringotts key from Harry, and I could go alone. I cried that night. And I promised myself I would never cry about shit like that again. Lily, Al, Rose and Hugo had all glared at me, while James sat in a neutral look, unlike most of the family and my parents. I had to wonder how they hid it from the world. When I caught stories of how amazing my parents were, I though maybe they'd be better to me and treat me like the family. But then I realised I was the only one who saw them like that. They're too blinded my their partners, all they ever do is hate.
All in all, that's my life in a nutshell. I'll be starting my fifth year at Hogwarts now. The letter's meant to come this morning. I'm pretty proud of my accomplishments, not that any of my parents would notice. I mean, I don't really care. To the surprise of the Weasley family, for what could have possibly been the first time in history, a Weasley didn't make it to Gryffindor. Not that they'd noticed.
My name is Hunter Fleamont Potter, fifth year Ravenclaw, and I tell you once more: It's not my fault.