They wanted to give their children the world. They never considered their firstborn would be sorted into Slytherin.
School can be a horrible place for 11 and 12 year children in any nation, magical or not, but sometimes it can be worse. Sometimes, even, it can be a kind of changing hell, where you are made or broken by how others see you.
She was the oldest of the Potter brood, with ash blond hair like her mother, and the summer green eyes of her father's family. Unremarkable of height and size, with little heart-shaped glasses to laugh at the world with. When they got the letter -- Mom, Dad, I'm a Slytherin! I think the robe brings out my eyes-- Luna had smiled and clung to paper, crinkling the edges with loving hands. From Harry, there was silence, a kind that echoed. When Luna turned to touch his cheek he smiled. The letters came often, always honest, always clear.
Someone pushed me from behind yesterday and made me drop my books.
My housemates always ask me questions, like how come I'm not a Griffyndor?
I used to cry, until someone stole my charm bracelet. Then I stopped.
I want to be a Ravenclaw like you Mom. Can Dad write the Headmaster and make them resort me?
I don't like this place.
There's a Hufflepuff boy that won't leave me alone. He says that since I'm a disgrace, your only blood child a Slytherin.
Daddy, how come your letters sound different now?
When can I go home?
( Read more... )
--
So. That's my kid-fic. Kinda somewhere between sweet and depressing, huh? I think I've used the same opening line once before, but oh well. I like it. Cross-posted to
loonieslions.
School can be a horrible place for 11 and 12 year children in any nation, magical or not, but sometimes it can be worse. Sometimes, even, it can be a kind of changing hell, where you are made or broken by how others see you.
She was the oldest of the Potter brood, with ash blond hair like her mother, and the summer green eyes of her father's family. Unremarkable of height and size, with little heart-shaped glasses to laugh at the world with. When they got the letter -- Mom, Dad, I'm a Slytherin! I think the robe brings out my eyes-- Luna had smiled and clung to paper, crinkling the edges with loving hands. From Harry, there was silence, a kind that echoed. When Luna turned to touch his cheek he smiled. The letters came often, always honest, always clear.
Someone pushed me from behind yesterday and made me drop my books.
My housemates always ask me questions, like how come I'm not a Griffyndor?
I used to cry, until someone stole my charm bracelet. Then I stopped.
I want to be a Ravenclaw like you Mom. Can Dad write the Headmaster and make them resort me?
I don't like this place.
There's a Hufflepuff boy that won't leave me alone. He says that since I'm a disgrace, your only blood child a Slytherin.
Daddy, how come your letters sound different now?
When can I go home?
( Read more... )
--
So. That's my kid-fic. Kinda somewhere between sweet and depressing, huh? I think I've used the same opening line once before, but oh well. I like it. Cross-posted to