Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with harry potter. They all belong to JK Rowling.
People think they know me. Know who I am. Know how I think. Know how my family treats me. Truth is they don't. I've had 14 years practice of building my masks. Going to Hogwarts though, I thought I wouldn't have to- big mistake there. My best friend, please ignore the derisive snort that just slipped out- ok fine than don't, back to what I was saying, my best friends first comment was to see my scar. At 11 years old i was gullible. I thought he'd get over it. I thought he really wanted to be my friend, not The Boy Who lived but mine. Harry Potter. Turns out he didn't. Same with my other best friend. She'd read all about me in books you see. She also thought she knew me. Same with the headmaster, teachers, the minister, my godfather, and everyone else in that god forsaken world. Well maybe god hasn't forsaken it. Maybe he just doesn't like me. See I'm a wizard, a wizard with a destiny. And this is a story about how my aunt, cousin and I found ourseleves reliving the last seven years. If anyone asks it was an accident. But between you, my aunt and cousin and the fence post it wasn't. If your interested I'll tell you more. If not bugger off. Obviously my story isn't for you.