Preface - Chapter 1

Preface

So, I started thinking up this story when I was 14, and Harry was 14. I had just read Goblet of Fire and for some reason, the fascination with Voldemort started to grow, and I started to morph a story around him. So, for a story 15 years in the making, let's give it a shot putting it down in words rather than a bedtime story I play in my head...

Chapter 1 

...the guilt washed over me in that blinding second when everything that had happened before rang so clear in my mind.

No, You're Gross

Part of me knew I wasn't living a normal child's life. Tucked away in the Alps of Germany, I wasn't all too familiar with what other children did. The only time I saw them was on the occasional floo trips to the Hexengasse. Every few months, Mama would need to stock up on new parchment and quills and other odds and ends, so we'd make a day of it. While she puttered in the stationary shops, I'd wander to Elias' Witze, or what the other kids would simply call "Ew", a little joke shop that would give me a taste of what other kids must do and enjoy. But no matter how often I perused the shelves, nothing seemed quite as exciting as what I had back home. Sure, the pygmy puffs were adorable, but I had a whole forest full of creatures back home, and some of them were my best friends.

I made the mistake once of mentioning that to another kid. As we peered in on those cute fluffy animals, this kid, with eyes wide in amazement, wondered aloud, "I wonder what they're saying in there."

"I don't know," I replied. "I've only been able to understand snakes so far. Have you tried talking to snakes?"

"Snakes? Why would you want to talk to snakes? They're so gross!" That amazement quickly turned to disgust as he turned to face me.

"No, you're gross!" I spat back. "Have you ever tried talking to one?"

"You can't talk to snakes! No one can! Mutti! Mutti!" The boys mother had just rounded the corner to fetch her son and he began to excitedly tug on her sleeve. "This girl says she can talk to snakes! Tell her that isn't true!"

"Oh, Tomas! She's just trying to impress you! She must have a little crush," the mother cooed as she ruffled the boys hair.

"But she said she could!" He protested. "Hey! Come back!"

I was already at the door by the time I heard him yell for me. I couldn't believe someone could be so mean! The snakes were never mean. My mother was coming out of her store when she saw me stomping over with a glower. "What happened, Sophie?" she asked with warm concern.

"A boy at the joke store called snakes gross!" I sputtered in a single breath. "He couldn't understand the pygmy puffs and neither could I but I told him to try talking to snakes because I understand them and he called them gross!"

"Breathe, honey! You told this little boy you could talk to snakes? Did you tell anyone else?" Her forehead was furrowed. I didn't understand her concern.

"I mean, he told his mom, but she just told him I was trying to impress him! Impress him!"

I saw the look on my mother's face soften. Suddenly the concern was gone and her soft smile began to surface again. "No worries, my love. Sounds like he's just missing out on some friends, now doesn't it?"

I thought about that for a second and agreed, and my mood was lifted. I nodded excitedly at my mother, then I took her hand and we began our journey home.

---

"And then he called you gross!" I relayed to Simon and Sally. I was leaning against our favorite tree on the outskirts of the forest while they curled affectionately around my arms. "How could someone as beautiful as you ever be called gross?"

"Some people are stupid," Simon offered.

"Don't tell her that, Simon! Calling someone sstupid is just as bad as calling someone gross," Sally scolded. I always loved the elongated hiss with each of their "s" sounds. Any ill feelings for the day washed away as soon as my friends talked to me. But the guilt of how I acted also started to rise up. "I kind of called him gross back," I whispered while lowering my eyes.

"Sweet!" Simon cheered. "Sophie!" Sally chided.

"I know! He just wasn't a very nice person at all! I hope I never see him again!"

"And you probably never will." If Simon had a shoulder, he would have shrugged when he said that. And he was right. Unless we ended up at Elias' at the same exact time during one of my few occasions in the Hexengasse, we wouldn't cross paths.

"What about at school? He could be her classmate!"

"Then Sophie will just have to remind him he's gross."

"Sophie!" Mama's call nipped Sally's further chiding in the bud. The sun was still high in the sky, so I wasn't certain what this was about. The first thought was that she had overheard me telling Simon and Sally about how I insulted the boy. Mama always told me to treat others with kindness and respect even if I didn't feel they deserved it. "Let their actions be a reflection on their character, not yours." I liked to think I had good character, but calling that boy stupid wasn't my finest moment. I laid my hands to the ground and allowed Sally and Simon to slither off, then I gave them a quick "See you soon!" before I ran off to see what my mother needed.

As I crossed the clearing, I could see my mother's outline against the front of the house. I could also see the outline of another person. I couldn't remember the last time we had a visitor to our tiny home. Mama's family was gone before I was even born. The only visitors I've ever remembered were those who worked at Mama's publishing company and, for a while, a research assistant. Herman, was his name. Or Hermie, as I'd call him. I never knew why he left, but I remember him enough to know the person standing next to my mother was not him. The closer I got, I did realize it was a him, though.

For an instant, the thought flashed through my mind of Could he be my father? This wasn't a unique feeling for me. Anytime a man came around, that would tug at the back of my head. I know when Hermie first came around, I was perhaps two or three. I dashed to him, threw my arms around his legs, and exclaimed, "You must be my papa!" Of course, he laughed and pried my arms from him. There was a moment of sadness, but since I never knew him, I never missed him. Even though there was a longing curiosity. Mama was all that I ever needed and more, so it wasn't like there was a void that needed to be filled

However, looking at this man, I felt a tingle in a void I hadn't realized existed, but I steadied myself. Every man who came around so far wasn't my father, so I would not get my hopes up now.

I came to a stop a few feet from my mother and looked up at her expectantly as I caught my breath. The usual warm gaze that normally met my eyes was wrought with something else. It was an emotion I had never seen on her before. Was this was panic looked like? The closest I had ever seen my mother get to panic was when a deadline was approaching, but even then, she'd set the quills in motion and get things done. But this look in her eyes now was also coupled with a chewing on the inside of her cheek. She was thinking very carefully about what to say to me.

"Sophie, would it be all right for this man to talk to you for a few minutes?" she finally said. I noticed her emphasis on the word "few" and got the sense she really did not want me to talk to him long. Suddenly I was starting to feel that same panic that was flashing across my mother's face.

"Did I do something? Is this about what happened at the joke shop?" I looked up at the man. "I'm sorry I called that boy gross, I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."

His lips curled into an amused smile. "I do not care about the feelings of some boy at a joke shop. I care about learning about you, Sophie."

"Why would you want to learn about me?" The question came out before I could think. It wasn't very nice of me to question an adult like that. I was on a rude streak, apparently.

"Who wouldn't want to learn about you, sweetie?" My mother was finally smiling, though the unease was still in her eyes. "Why don't you want around the field and I'll come find you in a few minutes? This gives me a few moments to water the garden." The smile disappeared as she turned to face the man. "She will never really be yours, Tom. Remember that."

"Nor will she ever truly be yours, Heidi," the man - Tom, I suppose - said coolly back to her. Then, he turned his head to look down at me, and with a sly smile and that same cool voice, said, "Shall we walk then?"