This is a story that tells HP from a different point of view. It's told by a prodigy Auror, who is half nymph. Enjoy!
If you asked Sar about her mother she would probably grow quiet. She would look at you with eyes that had a trace of pity for her dear mom, but she would not speak much, perhaps maybe twisting a finger around a necklace with a tiny golden nymph charm. She knew her father was a good-looking wizard because she had seen pictures, and it's pictures she had to rely on since she had never actually met the man. That says nothing negative about her father. It says everything, however, about her mother.
Her mother, Hebrea, thought of herself as different from the rest of the nymphs. Hebrea thought she was capable of a stable relationship, unlike her sisters and her friends, who flitted around frivolously giggling at everything that moved. She thought she would be able to meet a man, have a lovely life, and nice garden in Massachusetts. She imagined them with kids and attending the Fitchburg Finches' Quidditch matches after spending the afternoon at a picnic. Idealism is in the blood of the nymphs, stability is not. It is as simple as that. Full-blooded nymphs are not motherly creatures at all. Unlike veelas, who just have their pretty faces, nymphs are known for their charisma and their personality as well as their admirable beauty. And when they are angry they do not spout fire.
Hebrea could not escape what she was, so she escaped what she had become. Worried about her lack of nurturing abilities, she left her husband and quickly named a close friend, Lily Potter, Godmother to her child, and Lily's husband, James, Godfather. The baby, named Sar, spend many afternoons in Lily's arms, since Lily had no children of her own. A lot of attention was paid to Sar by Lily. A little while before Sar's second birthday, Lily bought her a tiny, delicate gold chain with a Nymph charm that hung with dignity at the bottom.
"This," Lily cooed, "is a Charmember. When ever you are upset, sweet girl, touch it with your tiny fingertips and I will come to help." She smiled as she lifted the baby's pudgy fingers to the necklace, and instantly a vision of Lily holding Sar in the garden, with quite a pregnant belly, flashed before the toddler's eyes.
But soon darkness passed before Lily's eyes, and those of James, Hebrea, and other members of the Order of the Phoenix as well. Certainly happy times came, Lily and James had a child of their own, two years younger than Sar, and Hebrea was learning to take care of Sar on her own. But this seemed insignificant to the monstrosity that was about to take place in the world of wizards. Lord Voldemort, on one unsuspecting summer night, murdered Sar's Godparents, James and Lily. But the young baby survived. Harry Potter survived.
It seemed however, Hebrea's sanity had not. Uncertain of what to do with the child now that the only source of guidance in her life was gone, Hebrea dumped the baby onto the doorstep of St. Francis' Home for Orphans. She disappeared, trying to get her life in order before she could even try to raise a baby.
From day one at the orphanage, the nurses hated Sar, as she welcomed them with levitating a dirty diaper overhead until it plopped onto the head of the nearest nurse. She was capable of such odd things, that the Muggle nurses treated her like a freak, unaware that the young child was a witch. Flying pudding bowls and zooming bread crusts had become a normal part of Sar's routine. Until the nurses become so frightened they locked her up in the broom closet under the staircase. Little did the four year old child know, a young boy who would have been Sar's greatest and oldest friend if circumstances had been slightly altered, was suffering the same fate...
Time passed, Sar's sixth birthday was approaching, and after four years at St. Francis', Hebrea showed up, eyes brighter, smile genuine, to take her daughter home. Sar hoped her mother's condition would last, but with creatures as unpredictable as nymphs, it would be hard to tell.
The next few years were happy ones. Voldemort had been long vanquished, and Sar took a curiosity in the Boy Who Lived. You see, Sar had an epiphany, one day playing with her new kitten as her hand brushed agaisnt the golden Nymph that she had worn as long as she could remember. The woman, a friends of her mother's named Lily, was the same that Voldemort had murdered. Sar put the pieces together and fell to her knees. A million questions buzzed through her mind. Why the Potters? Where was Sar when this happened? More importantly, where was Hebrea when this happened?
These questions unleashed a whole new phase in Sar's life, and at the age of eight she became completely obsessed with becoming an Auror. Unlike most mothers, Hebrea did not find this alarming and did not order Sar to play with my toy cauldrons instead. On the contrary, in fact, as she began teaching Sar everything she knew about deception and finding out what she needed to know by means of curses and hexes. All this was quite illegal, since Sar was underage, but Hebrea knew nothing about raising children, the poor woman. Plus, Sar showed such maturity in her magic and demeanor, Hebrea forgot how young her daughter was.
Until one day....
If you asked Sar about her mother she would probably grow quiet. She would look at you with eyes that had a trace of pity for her dear mom, but she would not speak much, perhaps maybe twisting a finger around a necklace with a tiny golden nymph charm. She knew her father was a good-looking wizard because she had seen pictures, and it's pictures she had to rely on since she had never actually met the man. That says nothing negative about her father. It says everything, however, about her mother.
Her mother, Hebrea, thought of herself as different from the rest of the nymphs. Hebrea thought she was capable of a stable relationship, unlike her sisters and her friends, who flitted around frivolously giggling at everything that moved. She thought she would be able to meet a man, have a lovely life, and nice garden in Massachusetts. She imagined them with kids and attending the Fitchburg Finches' Quidditch matches after spending the afternoon at a picnic. Idealism is in the blood of the nymphs, stability is not. It is as simple as that. Full-blooded nymphs are not motherly creatures at all. Unlike veelas, who just have their pretty faces, nymphs are known for their charisma and their personality as well as their admirable beauty. And when they are angry they do not spout fire.
Hebrea could not escape what she was, so she escaped what she had become. Worried about her lack of nurturing abilities, she left her husband and quickly named a close friend, Lily Potter, Godmother to her child, and Lily's husband, James, Godfather. The baby, named Sar, spend many afternoons in Lily's arms, since Lily had no children of her own. A lot of attention was paid to Sar by Lily. A little while before Sar's second birthday, Lily bought her a tiny, delicate gold chain with a Nymph charm that hung with dignity at the bottom.
"This," Lily cooed, "is a Charmember. When ever you are upset, sweet girl, touch it with your tiny fingertips and I will come to help." She smiled as she lifted the baby's pudgy fingers to the necklace, and instantly a vision of Lily holding Sar in the garden, with quite a pregnant belly, flashed before the toddler's eyes.
But soon darkness passed before Lily's eyes, and those of James, Hebrea, and other members of the Order of the Phoenix as well. Certainly happy times came, Lily and James had a child of their own, two years younger than Sar, and Hebrea was learning to take care of Sar on her own. But this seemed insignificant to the monstrosity that was about to take place in the world of wizards. Lord Voldemort, on one unsuspecting summer night, murdered Sar's Godparents, James and Lily. But the young baby survived. Harry Potter survived.
It seemed however, Hebrea's sanity had not. Uncertain of what to do with the child now that the only source of guidance in her life was gone, Hebrea dumped the baby onto the doorstep of St. Francis' Home for Orphans. She disappeared, trying to get her life in order before she could even try to raise a baby.
From day one at the orphanage, the nurses hated Sar, as she welcomed them with levitating a dirty diaper overhead until it plopped onto the head of the nearest nurse. She was capable of such odd things, that the Muggle nurses treated her like a freak, unaware that the young child was a witch. Flying pudding bowls and zooming bread crusts had become a normal part of Sar's routine. Until the nurses become so frightened they locked her up in the broom closet under the staircase. Little did the four year old child know, a young boy who would have been Sar's greatest and oldest friend if circumstances had been slightly altered, was suffering the same fate...
Time passed, Sar's sixth birthday was approaching, and after four years at St. Francis', Hebrea showed up, eyes brighter, smile genuine, to take her daughter home. Sar hoped her mother's condition would last, but with creatures as unpredictable as nymphs, it would be hard to tell.
The next few years were happy ones. Voldemort had been long vanquished, and Sar took a curiosity in the Boy Who Lived. You see, Sar had an epiphany, one day playing with her new kitten as her hand brushed agaisnt the golden Nymph that she had worn as long as she could remember. The woman, a friends of her mother's named Lily, was the same that Voldemort had murdered. Sar put the pieces together and fell to her knees. A million questions buzzed through her mind. Why the Potters? Where was Sar when this happened? More importantly, where was Hebrea when this happened?
These questions unleashed a whole new phase in Sar's life, and at the age of eight she became completely obsessed with becoming an Auror. Unlike most mothers, Hebrea did not find this alarming and did not order Sar to play with my toy cauldrons instead. On the contrary, in fact, as she began teaching Sar everything she knew about deception and finding out what she needed to know by means of curses and hexes. All this was quite illegal, since Sar was underage, but Hebrea knew nothing about raising children, the poor woman. Plus, Sar showed such maturity in her magic and demeanor, Hebrea forgot how young her daughter was.
Until one day....