OH, HO HO HO HO HO HO HO!!! Ya, I *know* I should be writing Playing with Hearts or The Ultimate Pinch... but... this idea
just pooped (Yes, pooped, not popped) into my head! This is an OMPAD! Fict. (Oh My Potters Aren't Dead!) Like the acronym?: p
Ya, so I can't ignore it, especially since I have tons of drawings of their character designs... Oh, you'll see! HP doesn't
belong to me!
Questions? Comments? FLAMES?
colourguard_g4@yahoo.com
For the anime in all of you...
http://himitsu_network.tripod.com/
Now, onto the fanfiction! OH, HO HO HO HO HO HO!!!! (I really do that laugh, btw, when I think of something that's absolutly
smashing, or I'm being evil...)
************
Don't Be Discouraged! (Title subject to change)
************
It was October 31st, 1981, 46 Gordic's Hollow, England. And inside this quaint little cul-de-sac, and inside this that house,
there is a baby crying. This child's name is Harry Potter. And little did Harry Potter know, that this very night is the
night he will become famous.
And little did *anybody*, not even the victims knew what was coming. For after a half-giant named Hagrid took the poor
bastard (A/N literally), and after the Ministry Magic blokes came about, something happened that no one would of ever had
guessed.
You see, Lily and James Potter never had a funeral. Most victims to Voldemort didn't, the greif was too intense. But there
was another reason why this special, *special* couple didn't have a funeral.
The Ministry of Magic never found their bodies.
They preformed all sorts of spells to show that that unforgivable curse was used, and even took up evidence where their
bodies were... or did lay. Was You-Know-Who more sadistic than they thought? Did he take the bodies? The ministry didn't
know, and never found out.
But, ah, today is your very lucky day. I'll tell you what happened. So just sit back and relax, and enjoy. : )
************
Lilian Potter at the table, eating her breakfast. Even though she wasn't very hungry, she still ate all of her three course
meal. Today Lilian wore a red and black ensamble, with the sleaves up top were tight, then they flared out with this sheer
material. The V of the lace lined neck line of the dress went down low, so she had a black shirt undernieth to hide any part
of her bosom. There was a thick strap of black material with lace around it was around her waist, looking almost as if it was
part of a Japanese kimono. Her skirt was very full with two lines of black lace that went around the whole skirt. She had on
a red choker with a black opal and black opal earings to match. To finish off her outfit was a black bow with black lace
lining. Lilian sighed, wishing she could at least slouch, but no. "Ladies don't slouch!" her aunt and tutors always told
her. And Lilian, being a good girl, did what she was told. So she sat straight as a board.
You see, Lilian Potter didn't have any parents. She was found walking among the common folk wearing odd cloths and a stick of
wood was in her hand. Lilian still has the stick with her, but that's besides the point. They only knew her name was Lilian
Potters, her age and birthday, for a paper told her so. The police brought her into one of the Potter's household, and she
was treated like royalty. She figured it was pity.
So now Lilian Potter was brought up within a matter of months. She was now a perfect lady of the 19th centuary with no
husband. Of course, that was frouned upon. Lilian lived with her old tutor, who had taught her how to sew. His name was
Harry. (Oh, how ironic!) They weren't in love or anything, (for God's sake, he was 53!) but they were very good friends.
Lilian looked about the room, and spotted the callender. It was March 29th, 1847. She was going to be 34 soon. How old.
'Oh, the life of a 19th centuary lady.' Lilian thought. 'You wait all year just for another birthday.' She sighed immensley.
Then she thought about how she actually came here... She couldn't place her finger on it, but 15 years ago, when she first
came to her aunt and uncle's house, she didn't feel like she belonged there. Like she belonged somewheres far away... yet
not. And that everything worked too slow. Her tutors said that was impatience, and that she must learn to be patient. Then
she had told her aunt and uncle about this. They told her to forget it, that it was a phase. So, being a good girl, Lilian
forgot it and learned to be patient, even though internally she was very impatient. But she never let that side show.
So Lilian Potter sat there and thought about the meaning of her life.
***********
James Potter woke with a start by the sound of his alarm. He smacked the top of the brass clock with little bells on top of
it, and dashed out of bed. He rushed to the shower, and washed himself very quickley.
He picked out a black and white pin-striped suit with a black vest and black suspenders. He had a white shirt and a black
tie. He slipped his golden pocket watch that he bought not too long ago, and slammed his hat on his head, and ran out of the
door, taking his breif case.
James ran and ran until he reached a building with the a sign on top of it that read:
Daily Bugle (A/N Sorry... I couldn't resist myself...)
James ran up the stairs, and flopped happily into his desk. The women employees were giggling at him. He chose to ignore it,
and look on his in tray, where there were saw a bunch of letters.
"Ah, my adoring fans..." He smiled, and picked up one of them, and began to read, and soon he was done reading all 10 of the
letters, and began to get to "work". James rarely worked in the office. He was always the reporter, and never sat down on
his desk. He was the best the Daily Bugle had. So, pretty soon his boss, Mr. Daniels, would rush in, requesting him to do a
job.
James did the countdown. "5...4...3...2.."
"Potter!" James swirled his seat to look behind him and saw Mr. Daniels. "I have a job for you, boy!"
James grimanced. He hated when he called him 'boy.' He wasn't a boy, he was 35- a grown adult. It would of been appropriate
if James had been working for the Daily Bugle since he *was* a boy, but he didn't.
In matter of fact, he can't remember his life 15 years ago. He woke up and found himself on the street wearing unusual
cloths, and couldn't remember who he was and where he was. He went to the police station, and they basically set a life up
for him, and even gave him a job at the was-then-new Daily Bugle. James Potter was gratefull. But he remembered finding a
weird wooden stick. He didn't know what possesed him to keep it. But anyway, James stayed with a happily family until he had
enough money to get his own apartment. But enough remininsing...
"Where at?" James asked him.
Mr. Daniels gave him the directions, and what he wanted. James Potter was a good boy, and did what he was told. He accepted
the assignment, and went back to his desk, and grabbed his hat, where he slapped his reporter's pass in the band around his
hat, and grabbed a notepad and pencil, and his lucky charm. He decided that the wooden stick was his wooden charm, for
whenever he had to do something and brought the wooden stick with him, he was sucsessful.
James dashed out of the door, into the bussy world of 1947.
***********
Wow, I actually like this! That's amazing for me, where as I usually hate all the work I do. : ) Sorry for the short chapter
and everything, but I don't feel like writing anymore. Be a sweety and review. : )
just pooped (Yes, pooped, not popped) into my head! This is an OMPAD! Fict. (Oh My Potters Aren't Dead!) Like the acronym?: p
Ya, so I can't ignore it, especially since I have tons of drawings of their character designs... Oh, you'll see! HP doesn't
belong to me!
Questions? Comments? FLAMES?
colourguard_g4@yahoo.com
For the anime in all of you...
http://himitsu_network.tripod.com/
Now, onto the fanfiction! OH, HO HO HO HO HO HO!!!! (I really do that laugh, btw, when I think of something that's absolutly
smashing, or I'm being evil...)
************
Don't Be Discouraged! (Title subject to change)
************
It was October 31st, 1981, 46 Gordic's Hollow, England. And inside this quaint little cul-de-sac, and inside this that house,
there is a baby crying. This child's name is Harry Potter. And little did Harry Potter know, that this very night is the
night he will become famous.
And little did *anybody*, not even the victims knew what was coming. For after a half-giant named Hagrid took the poor
bastard (A/N literally), and after the Ministry Magic blokes came about, something happened that no one would of ever had
guessed.
You see, Lily and James Potter never had a funeral. Most victims to Voldemort didn't, the greif was too intense. But there
was another reason why this special, *special* couple didn't have a funeral.
The Ministry of Magic never found their bodies.
They preformed all sorts of spells to show that that unforgivable curse was used, and even took up evidence where their
bodies were... or did lay. Was You-Know-Who more sadistic than they thought? Did he take the bodies? The ministry didn't
know, and never found out.
But, ah, today is your very lucky day. I'll tell you what happened. So just sit back and relax, and enjoy. : )
************
Lilian Potter at the table, eating her breakfast. Even though she wasn't very hungry, she still ate all of her three course
meal. Today Lilian wore a red and black ensamble, with the sleaves up top were tight, then they flared out with this sheer
material. The V of the lace lined neck line of the dress went down low, so she had a black shirt undernieth to hide any part
of her bosom. There was a thick strap of black material with lace around it was around her waist, looking almost as if it was
part of a Japanese kimono. Her skirt was very full with two lines of black lace that went around the whole skirt. She had on
a red choker with a black opal and black opal earings to match. To finish off her outfit was a black bow with black lace
lining. Lilian sighed, wishing she could at least slouch, but no. "Ladies don't slouch!" her aunt and tutors always told
her. And Lilian, being a good girl, did what she was told. So she sat straight as a board.
You see, Lilian Potter didn't have any parents. She was found walking among the common folk wearing odd cloths and a stick of
wood was in her hand. Lilian still has the stick with her, but that's besides the point. They only knew her name was Lilian
Potters, her age and birthday, for a paper told her so. The police brought her into one of the Potter's household, and she
was treated like royalty. She figured it was pity.
So now Lilian Potter was brought up within a matter of months. She was now a perfect lady of the 19th centuary with no
husband. Of course, that was frouned upon. Lilian lived with her old tutor, who had taught her how to sew. His name was
Harry. (Oh, how ironic!) They weren't in love or anything, (for God's sake, he was 53!) but they were very good friends.
Lilian looked about the room, and spotted the callender. It was March 29th, 1847. She was going to be 34 soon. How old.
'Oh, the life of a 19th centuary lady.' Lilian thought. 'You wait all year just for another birthday.' She sighed immensley.
Then she thought about how she actually came here... She couldn't place her finger on it, but 15 years ago, when she first
came to her aunt and uncle's house, she didn't feel like she belonged there. Like she belonged somewheres far away... yet
not. And that everything worked too slow. Her tutors said that was impatience, and that she must learn to be patient. Then
she had told her aunt and uncle about this. They told her to forget it, that it was a phase. So, being a good girl, Lilian
forgot it and learned to be patient, even though internally she was very impatient. But she never let that side show.
So Lilian Potter sat there and thought about the meaning of her life.
***********
James Potter woke with a start by the sound of his alarm. He smacked the top of the brass clock with little bells on top of
it, and dashed out of bed. He rushed to the shower, and washed himself very quickley.
He picked out a black and white pin-striped suit with a black vest and black suspenders. He had a white shirt and a black
tie. He slipped his golden pocket watch that he bought not too long ago, and slammed his hat on his head, and ran out of the
door, taking his breif case.
James ran and ran until he reached a building with the a sign on top of it that read:
Daily Bugle (A/N Sorry... I couldn't resist myself...)
James ran up the stairs, and flopped happily into his desk. The women employees were giggling at him. He chose to ignore it,
and look on his in tray, where there were saw a bunch of letters.
"Ah, my adoring fans..." He smiled, and picked up one of them, and began to read, and soon he was done reading all 10 of the
letters, and began to get to "work". James rarely worked in the office. He was always the reporter, and never sat down on
his desk. He was the best the Daily Bugle had. So, pretty soon his boss, Mr. Daniels, would rush in, requesting him to do a
job.
James did the countdown. "5...4...3...2.."
"Potter!" James swirled his seat to look behind him and saw Mr. Daniels. "I have a job for you, boy!"
James grimanced. He hated when he called him 'boy.' He wasn't a boy, he was 35- a grown adult. It would of been appropriate
if James had been working for the Daily Bugle since he *was* a boy, but he didn't.
In matter of fact, he can't remember his life 15 years ago. He woke up and found himself on the street wearing unusual
cloths, and couldn't remember who he was and where he was. He went to the police station, and they basically set a life up
for him, and even gave him a job at the was-then-new Daily Bugle. James Potter was gratefull. But he remembered finding a
weird wooden stick. He didn't know what possesed him to keep it. But anyway, James stayed with a happily family until he had
enough money to get his own apartment. But enough remininsing...
"Where at?" James asked him.
Mr. Daniels gave him the directions, and what he wanted. James Potter was a good boy, and did what he was told. He accepted
the assignment, and went back to his desk, and grabbed his hat, where he slapped his reporter's pass in the band around his
hat, and grabbed a notepad and pencil, and his lucky charm. He decided that the wooden stick was his wooden charm, for
whenever he had to do something and brought the wooden stick with him, he was sucsessful.
James dashed out of the door, into the bussy world of 1947.
***********
Wow, I actually like this! That's amazing for me, where as I usually hate all the work I do. : ) Sorry for the short chapter
and everything, but I don't feel like writing anymore. Be a sweety and review. : )