Born of Fire and Wind

I was born in dark times. In the midst of bloody war I was a light. I was only two months old when Voldemort was defeated. I was not raised by my parents, but by my aunt and uncle.

I am not an orphan. My mother lives, if you can call it that. She hides in her dark bedroom. My aunt says she is grieving for my father. It has been 14 years. I do not understand how she still has tears to cry.

My life holds no more happiness than my mother's, though I am not holed up in my bedroom.

At my aunt and uncle's I go unnoticed. Surrounded in a whirl of relatives and Auror's and my aunt and uncle's friends.

At school I am an outcast. My only friends are my cousins and even they do not really understand me. The other students are scared of me I think. Or rather, of the darkness in my past.

All of the professors knew my parents and aunt and uncle so they are a little better.

At least, all of the professors but one. He says nothing, but I can see it. He cringes when I enter his classroom and will not look me in the eye. He is afraid of me. And the memories I provoke.

I approach him one day after class. And slowly. Bit by bit. I drag from him the truth. All the things I must know, but in my heart of hearts do not wish to.

That I am not who I think I am. That my mother had two men in her life and the one she really grieves for stands before me. That my father is not dead. That I am the illegitimate child of my mother and her lover.

I run out of the castle. Across the rain swept grounds. I have reached the road that leads to Hogsmeade when I someone grabs me by the arm. I look up into the eyes of my Aunt Hermione.

She tells me that she knows. That she always has. That my father owled her when I left his office. I tell her I don't want to talk about it.

We walk together, silently, back to Hogwarts. I wait outside while she talks to the headmaster. We gather my things and floo to the Burrow. Uncle Ron is waiting when we arrive. He hugs me but I pull away.

I want to be alone. I trudge up the hill in the rain. Tears well in my eyes but I will not cry.

I will not cry.

My life as I knew it has been torn apart. Who am I really?

I am the child of fire and wind.

I am the child of Ginevra Weasley Malfoy.

Fire.

I am the child of Harry Potter.

Wind.

And in my heart.

I am the child of Draco Malfoy.

Ice.

I am Rose.

I am rain.

Clear.

Cold.

Rain.

I was born a Light in Darkness.

I am now a Darkness in Light.