The Pureblood Lady

Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or The Linnet Bird.

Go easy people. This is my first story. Some of you may recognize in the disclaimer I said The Linnet Bird. It is a story I read a few weeks ago and I have decided to base a Harry Potter story on it. I'm hoping that's not against Fan Fiction law because I've seen it done before. Anyway guess I better get on with it. Enjoy.

Chapter 1- My Story

Smoking wizard drugs is an art.

I look at my tray and its contents- the pipe covered in finely worked silver and next to it the small bag of a small wizard plant called yeleo. Few can smoke it and look dignified. I stare at the drug nicknamed wizard pot. It is early morning yet. The Indian sun will not reach its height for many hours. I feel the graze of morning sunbeams across my face. Licking my lips I turn back to my tray. No not yet. I will not take up my pipe yet because I have something to tell you.

Through the open window I hear children's voices. I move over to peer out at the garden. My son Dragon is playing tag with one of the servant's children. Dragon runs in the careless easy way that only six year olds can. Matilda sits on the steps of the veranda watching them and waving a fan over herself. She is like a second mother to Dragon. After all she is his nursemaid.

I never played as my son does today. At just a little older than he is now I was sent to work at my cousin's pub where he did his drug deals, in the sleaziest part of England. I never played and felt the grass under my bare feet or heard the song of many birds singing a masterpiece. My son will never know the work I did, nor the work I did later on in life when I was still a child but no longer young. That part of my life will remain closed forever to him, but not to you.

I see my son pluck up a hibiscus flower in his slender and sun browned hands. I remember my own hands when I was young. Chapped from the cold, stained with dirt and filth, then not many years later tainted with things I will never be able to completely wash away. Like Lady MacBeth from a muggle Shakespeare's plays, I too have dirty hands. Then later on my voyage out here, clean yet in my own mind they were dirty from blood and too many men. I suppose you are wondering how have I come from that place and arrived here in this manor in India. Well today I shall tell you.

I swore last night over my sleeping child's head that after today I shall never use wizard pot again. But I fear without it my old dreams will enwrap my mind in the familiar nightmare that I have tried so long to lose. The drugs can no longer make me happy. They simply allow me to carry on. And today is the last time I will use it so that my hand and mind may be stilled long enough to write that which I must, so that my son will someday know. So I write what will be important to his future but for you I shall write it all- part truth, part memory, part nightmare. My life, the one that started so long ago in a place so far from here.

Yes very short I know but it is sort of a prologue. I promise the next one will be longer. And also I'm sorry for all you people looking for a Draco and Hermione fic because it's going to take a while before it gets to that stage.