I'd just like to say something before I begin. Reviews you know.

Maison-Rosai: OO I never thought of that. MEEP! I'll try my best, but if I've got one shot... oh dear.

I'd just like to say to everyone that this baka here, (hits Midnight) is Midnight Blades, my best friend and colleague in the arms of sowing seeds of destruction. Say hi Mid! ... Oh c'mon, at least I'm somewhat polite... MIDNIGHT! pulls her out of where she's hiding in the closet

Mewer44444: I will make it longer, or at least I will give it my best shot. I may disappoint you though... mrow

And now, the Kitty shall begin.

Now... where shall I start?

I was born on April 29th of 1845 in a town near the English/Scottish border,in a little stone hovel.Carlisle, which is now a city, was where I grew up.My parents, Jonathan and Adelade, were not that well on money you see. My father had never been, while my mother just ditched her family fortune to marry my father against her parents consent.

It's odd how these things turn out isn't it? It's as if the rich kids are more... rebellious than their poor comrades.

Not that I wasn't rebellious mind you.

Caught you there, didn't I Mr. Potter?
Yes, I was a rebellious old nut. By the age of three, as my dear mother could never stop telling me (Believe me, just because we didn't have any money didn't mean she didn't love me... it got a bit annoying really.), I was running at the creek with the five year old wizards and tomboy witches, diving into the creek, scaring my mother, playing with garder snakes... scaring my mother again, I had gotten ahold of my father's Moonbeam broom once... and scared my mother by making a Seeker move known as a sort of Wronski Feint, yet it wasn't famous yet...

And the list goes on and on and on. Reflecting back on all of it, which could take at least a day to tell you, and you would lose interest in the first half hour, I see now that I was God's first beta version for Fred and George.

We'll come to my transformation into the calm, thinking man I am today! It just took... about... er... a hundred years.

What?

Actually, I somewhat calmed down when I was five...

You see, in those times, we were being haunted by someone... someone with my type of powers... the powers of longevity... a certain man called Grindewald. He was like a Voldemort of the 18th century...

I can see Harry shuddering from here.
Anyway, back on track. Now people know why I read books, not write them. Grindewald was the Voldemort of the 18th century, and you'll figure out exactly why as the story goes on.

Grindewald attacked Carlisle.

All I can really remember is... almost all the houses were on fire... stone will catch on fire if you heat it hot enough... and my tall, auburn haired father running to protect me and my little brother Aberforth. His blue eyes seemed to be in a panic as a dark shadow came over me and my brother. In the inferno, I saw something that would haunt my dreams until Voldemort died...

Red eyes, with slits for pupils, looking at me with a venegeance, a meanace.

I was sure that those eyes could kill with one glare, so I shielded my three year old brother from it's gaze. As I stood there in fear for my own life, not willing to get out of the way, trying to protect my brother, my father sent a curse flying at Grindewald.

"GO ALBUS! FIND YOUR MOTHER!" he cried as he started to duel with that crazed creature. Those were the last words I ever heard him speak.

And then this part, I can see clearly in my mind's eye as if it happened yesterday...

I had gotten Aberforth back to our amazingly not on fire house, and I had turned around to see how my father was doing...

The first, and not the last mistake I ever made.

Grindewald was pointing his wand at my peaceful father, who seemed to be having a seizure because of... pain? I'm sure it was pain now. His eyes I could tell were rolling into the back of his head, his head... body... hands were twitching, and shaking as he fought to scream, but had no breath to do it in.

And this is how I know that the Crucio curse kills.

Grindewald brutally killed my father with it that day.

The Muggles in the village had gotten help from the Army in the next town over, and now musket fire was firing at Grindewald. One was lucky enough to catch him in the back, and he screamed with pain,Apparating out of the town.

After the comotion was over, and people were extinguishing the fires, I walked slowly up to what I supposed was my father's dead body. My knees seemed to collapse from out from under me, and sobbing, me, the five year old little auburn haired boy, crawled the rest of the way. I touched my father's cheek. It-- It seemed so cold...

Then, as I sobbed into his shirt, I thought, 'Father, I will avenge you. I will make Grindewald pay.' Then... as I got up off the ground to find my mother, I never dreamed that someday, I would do what I said. I would avenge my father, and I would do it with the help of Grindewald's daughter. I never would've dreamed in my wildest imaginations that it would turn out that way, but Elizabeth Tudor has meant a lot to me. She befriended me when no one else would, and brought me to more friends. She's my best friend, and I would do anything for her.

But I'm getting ahead of myself once again. Must... stop... doing... that... Ok, I'm done.

And that concludes Chapter Three folks. In case you missed it, I am happier today than I was yesterday. Though I don't see why...

Katrina

PS: Read, review, whatever.