Although I was his daughter, I felt no loyalty to him. "The Boy who Lived" was never wonderful, never great, and never strong. My mother, his best friend's sister, was not great either. In fact, they were both twisted, both enveloped in their egotistical destinies. To recall the proceedings of the reign of the Dark Lord, one must remember just how He fell in the first place. My father, the so-called "Boy who Lived" was simply a beneficiary of an easy spell cast by his mother.

My name is Morella, and I will tell the story of The Man who Died.

&&&

It started when I had first arrived at Hogwarts. At age eleven I didn't care about the pending reign of the Dark Lord, all I had known was the fact I was starting school – the time of my life.

When I had entered the Great Hall for the first time, my mind was enchanted by the glittering stars that sparkled above, and all of its inhabitants staring at us, first years, in vigor. My name was pretty far from the beginning, being a Potter, which was a minor irritation that had begun the endless taunting of being my father's daughter. I was so anxious to be sorted into the houses. I knew what I had wanted to be. I wanted to be a Gryffindor just like my mother, and become of the brave, the beautiful red and gold, that the Quiditch cup banner flaunted. I paid no attention to the names being called, until I heard one slightly interesting one.

"Malfoy, William," The headmistress called loudly, and a golden haired boy stepped forward nervously. I could see his legs shaking as he approached the chair, and I was baffled.

How can that be a Malfoy? I wondered. My father had told me about them, the conniving family of pureblooded snakes, and the death eater leaders.

The hat sat on the boy's head for a few seconds and it called out, "SLYTHERIN!"

I sighed, "Of course…."

Of course he was a Malfoy. He was a Slytherin. I followed him with my eyes as he disappeared into the crowds of applause protruding from the tables. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as my heart pounded louder than the applause of the tables, and I bit my lip hard as the woman called my name… and I stepped forward towards the hat. At the sound of my name, the hall went silent and I could feel every pair of eyes on me. I grinned at the thought of the people around me admiring me for only my name, but oh, how I wanted to prove them wrong…

I sat down on the chair and crossed my legs in a ladylike gesture to show just how different I was. My lips were curled in a tight smirk, and right as the hat touched my head it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

My jaw had dropped, and my eyes had widened as I walked towards the blue and silver table. My knees shook as I sat down at a plainly deserted segment of the table, and I stared at the empty plate in front of me as the occupants of the table stared at me. Not many had applauded me. My body had felt numb and my eyes filled with salty tears, I hadn't known why. I remained silent as the sorting finished and the headmaster spoke a few words. I hardly touched the dinner; my stomach was too queasy to eat. As I made my way up to the dormitory, the hustle and bustle around me was agitating. I resorted to pushing people out of my way as I followed the prefects.

The common room was filled when I finally got through the dungeon. I instantly made my way into my dormitory and laid down on the bed. I wiped the moisture from my eyes and muttered softly, "It'll be fine. Just… just a different house… no issue, right?"

An owl hooted softly and I bolted straight up in bed and looked at the window, where a large brown owl was perched. Its eyes glimmered bright gold and they were as metallic as gold coins while they surveyed the room. I stood up and walked over to it, and pet it gently. Its eyes closed and its get tilted to the side as I rubbed under its beak. He spread his wings and flew out the window into the night sky. I looked down and made way back to my bed and laid down. As I laid I drifted off into a deep sleep, and it was fairly dreamless, with the exception of the image of the owl flying through the skies, with its eyes illuminating the night like the stars it soared among….

&&&

When classes started the next morning I made my way toward the Great Hall for breakfast. As I strolled through the dungeons I closed my eyes and held my books to my chest. My lips were in a thin grimace as my shoes dragged on the stone. The torches made the dimly lit dungeon look somewhat eerie; however to me it seemed warm and comforting.

"Hello," a small voice whispered beside me.

I opened my eyes and lazily looked towards the person beside me.

The blond Malfoy boy walked beside me slowly, timidly, although he stared at me with piercing ice blue eyes. I forced my gaze back to straight ahead and muttered, "Hi."

"I'm William," he said quickly, holding out his hand.

I took it hesitantly, "I'm Mory – Morella actually. Pleasure to meet you, Malfoy."

He looked away, slightly taken aback, and I laughed to myself, he cannot be a Malfoy….

We walked together silently through the dungeon, and as we entered the Great Hall we went our separate ways. He had friends, I did not.

It was weird how a name can separate who you are and who others think you are. Being a Potter, as I was, no Slytherin wanted anything to do with me. However, Malfoy – he was a celebrity.

As the owls flew in, in a rampant blast of feathers and wings as they dropped the morning post onto each table.

I cringed as a letter fell in front of me. I knew it was my parents. The news of my house must have gotten to them.

My hands shook as I gulped and opened it.

Mory,

We were informed that you were placed in the Slytherin house. Although we are surprised, it'll be fine. Everything will be. Your father and I want you to know we love you very much, even if you are scared or annoyed, or happy about it. However, we both knew how much you wanted to be in Gryffindor…

Love,

Mom

I sighed and placed the letter into my bag, rolling my eyes at the circumstance.

Yes, let's get babied by mom and dad. Yes show them you're weak on the first day. Hell no!

My first class was Transfiguration and I could hardly wait. I always used my mom's wand when she wasn't looking, I always practiced. I knew I could be better than every single first year. I would be, I had to be. The Potter name had to have more in it than just The Boy who Lived.

&&&

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