Author's Note: I posted the original version of this on 8/2/03, but later that day I received an e-mail saying someone had reported the fic as being plagiarized, and it was removed. Now, I did use actual text from Harry Potter, because I was presenting a scene from another character's point of view. However, I did not claim that the dialogue was my own. In fact, I explicitly stated that I had borrowed portions of the text and cited them appropriately. Most (70%) of the text was my own, and this was only the first chapter of a much longer, if not yet posted, story. Ah well. I am reluctant to admit defeat, and even more annoyed to have to compromise my idea, but what can you do? So I rewrote the chapter, without the dialogue. It turned out very different (much shorter) than I had wanted, but it gets the message across. Sorry if I seem to be complaining, but I had a much longer rant planned, so be happy.

Proper Author's Note: Now that that's over with, let me explain this story before you begin. This first chapter is a prologue to the actual fic, which is part one of two much asked for extensions of "I Am Not My Father." Yay! that people actually liked that enough to ask for more, and though delayed, more will come. I'm a slow writer and updater, but all will come together in time, I promise. This will also eventually tie in to my other fic, "A Little Hope," but not for a few chapters. I'm taking a little break with that to let this and my currently untitled, barely started Harry-centric fic catch up. I'm starting to rant again, so lets get on with the story, shall we?



Long Road to Change

Prologue



From the moment I laid eyes on him, I knew who he was. I didn't see the scar, had never seen this boy before, but yet I had. Here before me was a dead man. I bubbled with a hatred I had repressed for ten years, that very first day. I didn't see before me the nervous, skinny little boy that everyone else saw. I saw the confident, cruel, cocky father, the object of so many years of loathing.

I could never allow myself to think for a moment that the two were separate, that they were very different. They were the same. And I treated him that way. I punished the sins of the father in the son.

It began that very first day in class. I looked at him sitting their, talking with his friends, happy. I made comments about his celebrity, ignored the snickers and outright laughter of the other students. I asked questions to which I knew he wouldn't know the answer. I provoked him, and I watched him struggle to keep his cool, remaining composed and calm where many others would have burst into defense. I took out my revenge on his father through this boy, and I never thought for a moment that it was wrong.

I never felt any regret, but for the few moments I looked into his eyes. They were her eyes. They were compassion and caring, and as I watched him, I realized that maybe he wasn't James after all. I never allowed this thought to dwell, to linger, because if I did it would have eaten me away. But I am seeing it more and more everyday. He has her eyes, the one person who stood for me even though I treated her like dirt.

I will not allow myself to see it in him. I will not feel guilt for what I have done. It is too late to change. I cannot change.

But what if I have to?



If anyone is interested, I would be happy to e-mail you the original copy of this chapter. Write me at galaxyhitchiker33@hotmail.com. Otherwise, please review (much appreciated). Also, I promise never to write an author's note as long as the one at the beginning of this fic. I was annoyed, and I rant. Thanks. (Next chapter should be up in about two days, if you care.)