The boy who lived
Hero With A Thousand Faces
A/N: like I said before, I'll be changing things around. I'll be adding some stuff that's obviously not in the Harry Potter books, and perhaps the outcome of the war will change. But this war will be bloodier and more violent than seen in the books and movies.
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"You think you know a story, but you only see what's on the surface. To get to the heart of the story, you have to look deeper - much deeper."
Chapter one - The Boy Who Lived.
Voldemort was dead, slain by the one person he feared but had not, until now, had the power; the boy who the dark lord felt was a threat to his own power; the boy who was unknowingly the savior of the entire wizarding world. The boy whose life would be forever changed by this single event. The little boy who was wrapped in a blanket with a permanent heating charm cast over it.
Hundreds of miles away all hell was breaking loose in the wizarding world; by that time - dusk - everyone would have heard the tale of how that little boy defeated the dark lord. They would be celebrating this, as they should - the fall of the darkest wizard, but this victory shouldn't have been achived in this manner- at the expense of his and his parents' lives. His name would be rememered by everyone, and yet - Minerva McGonagall sighed - he would not know he was famous until he was old enough. This boy's name was Park Jungsu.
What had happened in that cottage in Godric's hollow when Voldemort - He-who-must-not-be-named - lifted his wand and shot that killing curse? why had it backfired? There surely had to be an explaination for this - but it seemed not even Dumbledore himself knew. It was because of a betrayal that Sanghyun and Minah Park were murdered and that their only son would have to grow up never knowing his parents.
It wasnt just his world that had been turned upside down; not just hers, the muggle-born's or the wizarding world at large. The whole damn galaxy had changed in the space of just a few short hours. Everything was changing; and one day he would return to the wizarding world, but for now he would grow up unaware of his heroic deed, his past.
McGonagall looked at the sleeping boy in her arms, eyes softening as she gazed upon his tiny form. His hair was hidden under a tiny baby blue cap, but McGonagall knew it was almost exactly like his father's; messy and dark. His eyes, she'd been told were his mother's - green as unripe apples. Upon his forehead was a scar - hidden by his hair and baby blue cap - it's shape was as unusual as his eye colour - zig zagged in the shape of a lightning bolt. Another sigh escaped , this scar was a reminder of what happened that night.
And to leave him with these people - these god awful muggles. She didn't have any problem with muggles in general, these people however were absolutely terrible - absolutely horrid. Family or not she would never want him to be raises by them; who knew what they would do. Their son was a horrid little brat, whom she was certain the Parks would never want around their son and the boy - his parents were much worse than their son. No, surely there had to be other family members to raise him, people much better than these muggles.
As if hearing her thoughts Albus Dumbledore sighed, his hands folded in front of his body. "This is his only family Minerva, he will be quite safe with them."
"You don't know what they're like Albus! They're dreadful!" McGonagall hissed, her voice shaking with repressed anger. Not at Dumbledore, at the fact that he was leaving the savior with the worst sort of muggles. Did it matter that they were related? No.
How could anyone want to live with these people - especially after what she'd seen, let alone the boy who lived, a hero to everyone in the wizarding world.
"Minerva-"
"No Albus! Doesn't he have some other family? His father's side perhaps?" Desperation perhaps, but Minerva did not want this precious boy's innocence ruined. She wanted to care for him herself, but she knew he would be safer with his family. Anyone but them.
Dumbledore frowned, it could be true, however the blood magic was certainly stronger here at this house and it could take longer to find any other family - it just wasn't worth the risk. The dark lord was gone, his following scattered, but that wouldn't stop the remaining death eaters from killing the boy who vanquished their lord.
"If we find other family we will remove him," He said, hoping to placate McGonagall and it did, seconds after he said those words the anger on her face was replaced by a satisfied look. It was good enough for now.
Hopefully he won't be stuck with these people for long. McGonagall nodded, turning her gaze back to the rosy cheeked child in her arms. "I'll see you in eleven years Jungsu." her voice soft.
Jungsu shifted, his tiny mouth opening into the shape of an O - McGonagall couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips. His tiny hand shot out of the blanket, fingers curling into a tiny fist. He was the sweetest baby she had ever seen. "Good luck Park Jungsu." she whispered, her sight suddenly blurred by tears; she would miss him, this boy who changed everything.
McGonagall crouched in front of the muggles' front porch, placing the boy on the step. Though she did not say anything, she deeply disapproved of this plan to leave him on the front steps until morning - what if something happened? But clearly Dumbledore knew what he was doing, so she said nothing.
Dumbledore looked at the boy, eyes twinkling. "Good luck Park Jungsu." he whispered softly, his voice tender. "Be brave."
"Perhaps one day you will preside over empires."
with those words McGonagall and Dumbledore disappeared, leaving that special boy resting beneath the half moon.
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The morning dawned crisp and clear that first day of November, not a single cloud hung in the grey sky; bitter wind whipped through the trees scattering the leaves upon the ground and lifted them to the sky, where they were carries thousands of miles off. It was a perfect morning for the recently deceased Mrs. Park's muggle relitives, that was until her sister, Jae opened the door to find that special boy on her doorstep. From came a terrible sound, one that scattered the birds and woke the slumbering boy from his dreams of flying motorcycles and apple green eyes - it was a terrible scream, high pitched and later, the boy would compare it to nails on a chalk board.
Jungsu was startled awake by her scream, his delicate features twisting in displeasure and discomfort and from his mouth arose a great cry. Casting a nervous look around the neighborhood, the horse faced woman gently - as gently as she could mange - picked him up and cradled him in her arms and carried him indoors.
.
"You think you know a story, but you only see what's on the surface. To get to the heart of the story, you have to look deeper - much deeper."
Chapter one - The Boy Who Lived.
Voldemort was dead, slain by the one person he feared but had not, until now, had the power; the boy who the dark lord felt was a threat to his own power; the boy who was unknowingly the savior of the entire wizarding world. The boy whose life would be forever changed by this single event. The little boy who was wrapped in a blanket with a permanent heating charm cast over it.
Hundreds of miles away all hell was breaking loose in the wizarding world; by that time - dusk - everyone would have heard the tale of how that little boy defeated the dark lord. They would be celebrating this, as they should - the fall of the darkest wizard, but this victory shouldn't have been achived in this manner- at the expense of his and his parents' lives. His name would be rememered by everyone, and yet - Minerva McGonagall sighed - he would not know he was famous until he was old enough. This boy's name was Park Jungsu.
What had happened in that cottage in Godric's hollow when Voldemort - He-who-must-not-be-named - lifted his wand and shot that killing curse? why had it backfired? There surely had to be an explaination for this - but it seemed not even Dumbledore himself knew. It was because of a betrayal that Sanghyun and Minah Park were murdered and that their only son would have to grow up never knowing his parents.
It wasnt just his world that had been turned upside down; not just hers, the muggle-born's or the wizarding world at large. The whole damn galaxy had changed in the space of just a few short hours. Everything was changing; and one day he would return to the wizarding world, but for now he would grow up unaware of his heroic deed, his past.
McGonagall looked at the sleeping boy in her arms, eyes softening as she gazed upon his tiny form. His hair was hidden under a tiny baby blue cap, but McGonagall knew it was almost exactly like his father's; messy and dark. His eyes, she'd been told were his mother's - green as unripe apples. Upon his forehead was a scar - hidden by his hair and baby blue cap - it's shape was as unusual as his eye colour - zig zagged in the shape of a lightning bolt. Another sigh escaped , this scar was a reminder of what happened that night.
And to leave him with these people - these god awful muggles. She didn't have any problem with muggles in general, these people however were absolutely terrible - absolutely horrid. Family or not she would never want him to be raises by them; who knew what they would do. Their son was a horrid little brat, whom she was certain the Parks would never want around their son and the boy - his parents were much worse than their son. No, surely there had to be other family members to raise him, people much better than these muggles.
As if hearing her thoughts Albus Dumbledore sighed, his hands folded in front of his body. "This is his only family Minerva, he will be quite safe with them."
"You don't know what they're like Albus! They're dreadful!" McGonagall hissed, her voice shaking with repressed anger. Not at Dumbledore, at the fact that he was leaving the savior with the worst sort of muggles. Did it matter that they were related? No.
How could anyone want to live with these people - especially after what she'd seen, let alone the boy who lived, a hero to everyone in the wizarding world.
"Minerva-"
"No Albus! Doesn't he have some other family? His father's side perhaps?" Desperation perhaps, but Minerva did not want this precious boy's innocence ruined. She wanted to care for him herself, but she knew he would be safer with his family. Anyone but them.
Dumbledore frowned, it could be true, however the blood magic was certainly stronger here at this house and it could take longer to find any other family - it just wasn't worth the risk. The dark lord was gone, his following scattered, but that wouldn't stop the remaining death eaters from killing the boy who vanquished their lord.
"If we find other family we will remove him," He said, hoping to placate McGonagall and it did, seconds after he said those words the anger on her face was replaced by a satisfied look. It was good enough for now.
Hopefully he won't be stuck with these people for long. McGonagall nodded, turning her gaze back to the rosy cheeked child in her arms. "I'll see you in eleven years Jungsu." her voice soft.
Jungsu shifted, his tiny mouth opening into the shape of an O - McGonagall couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips. His tiny hand shot out of the blanket, fingers curling into a tiny fist. He was the sweetest baby she had ever seen. "Good luck Park Jungsu." she whispered, her sight suddenly blurred by tears; she would miss him, this boy who changed everything.
McGonagall crouched in front of the muggles' front porch, placing the boy on the step. Though she did not say anything, she deeply disapproved of this plan to leave him on the front steps until morning - what if something happened? But clearly Dumbledore knew what he was doing, so she said nothing.
Dumbledore looked at the boy, eyes twinkling. "Good luck Park Jungsu." he whispered softly, his voice tender. "Be brave."
"Perhaps one day you will preside over empires."
with those words McGonagall and Dumbledore disappeared, leaving that special boy resting beneath the half moon.
.
The morning dawned crisp and clear that first day of November, not a single cloud hung in the grey sky; bitter wind whipped through the trees scattering the leaves upon the ground and lifted them to the sky, where they were carries thousands of miles off. It was a perfect morning for the recently deceased Mrs. Park's muggle relitives, that was until her sister, Jae opened the door to find that special boy on her doorstep. From came a terrible sound, one that scattered the birds and woke the slumbering boy from his dreams of flying motorcycles and apple green eyes - it was a terrible scream, high pitched and later, the boy would compare it to nails on a chalk board.
Jungsu was startled awake by her scream, his delicate features twisting in displeasure and discomfort and from his mouth arose a great cry. Casting a nervous look around the neighborhood, the horse faced woman gently - as gently as she could mange - picked him up and cradled him in her arms and carried him indoors.
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