Hero With A Thousand Faces
Description
[Harry Potter/Kpop Xover & part one of the trilogy] 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.
Foreword
The war forced us to mature quicker than we'd otherwise would have. We were children forced to fight this viscious group of men, women and everything that went bump in the night - forced to use spells which were much too advanced for our age, forced to watch as our friends, family and everyone we ever loved either died or got hurt.
I had no family - my parents had been murdered, my father dying first and my mother with her long tresses of spun silk and eyes, slanted - green as unripe apples and vines in sunlight, had sacrificed herself for me. I was but a babe but I remember her eyes, how warm and b with love they were as she looked at me. I remeber her soft tresses, copper and bronze and rusted, dusted with gold - a mantle of fire around her shoulders. Whether this was her natural colour or dyed, I do not know, but either way, she was beautiful, etheral.
My father - I remember bits and pieces of him; his dark eyes and equally dark, messy hair and the mischievous smile that seemed to always grace his lips. I don't remember his voice and I wished I could - but my mother's voice, I remember hers - soft, musical - like windchimes. Sometimes in my sleep I'd hear her singing some muggle lullaby as she rocked me in her arms, sometimes I would see my father showing off his magic -buy I could honestly never tell if they were dreams or memories.
They're gone, the only family I have left are my aunt, uncle and cousin and my grandmother, whom I didn't know lived until my fourth year. But I found new family; my friends at Hogwarts, my godfather - my two best mates, Sunny and Donghae and their families. I wasnt so lonely anymore and for the first time in a long time - since my parents' death, I felt loved.
It was the love I had that helped me live, helped me save the world from the most evil of men alive and I'm thankful for those who loved me. Tom Riddle didn't have love, didn't know what love was - underestimated the power of love. I suppose part of that was because of the manner in which he was born. But I suppose if he had love, been born differently, he wouldn't have turned out so twisted and horrible. I pity him.
But I mustn't dwell on what has already come to pass, or what ifs - I should focus on the future and how to defeat the dictator, the monster who calls himslelf Voldemort.
I had no family - my parents had been murdered, my father dying first and my mother with her long tresses of spun silk and eyes, slanted - green as unripe apples and vines in sunlight, had sacrificed herself for me. I was but a babe but I remember her eyes, how warm and b with love they were as she looked at me. I remeber her soft tresses, copper and bronze and rusted, dusted with gold - a mantle of fire around her shoulders. Whether this was her natural colour or dyed, I do not know, but either way, she was beautiful, etheral.
My father - I remember bits and pieces of him; his dark eyes and equally dark, messy hair and the mischievous smile that seemed to always grace his lips. I don't remember his voice and I wished I could - but my mother's voice, I remember hers - soft, musical - like windchimes. Sometimes in my sleep I'd hear her singing some muggle lullaby as she rocked me in her arms, sometimes I would see my father showing off his magic -buy I could honestly never tell if they were dreams or memories.
They're gone, the only family I have left are my aunt, uncle and cousin and my grandmother, whom I didn't know lived until my fourth year. But I found new family; my friends at Hogwarts, my godfather - my two best mates, Sunny and Donghae and their families. I wasnt so lonely anymore and for the first time in a long time - since my parents' death, I felt loved.
It was the love I had that helped me live, helped me save the world from the most evil of men alive and I'm thankful for those who loved me. Tom Riddle didn't have love, didn't know what love was - underestimated the power of love. I suppose part of that was because of the manner in which he was born. But I suppose if he had love, been born differently, he wouldn't have turned out so twisted and horrible. I pity him.
But I mustn't dwell on what has already come to pass, or what ifs - I should focus on the future and how to defeat the dictator, the monster who calls himslelf Voldemort.
Comments