Categories > Books > Harry Potter > On the Wrong Side of Sanity
Introducing: Me!
0 reviewsPower. It is always said to corrupt. Once you have it, do you still try to forgive those who have betrayed you? Some crimes cannot be forgiven. What do you do then? Post OoTP.
-1Boring
Hello everyone! This story was first posted on Fanfiction.net, and now I’ll be adding it here. More chapters will follow shortly…
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I quite obviously make no money at all in writing this…
On The Wrong Side of Sanity
Chapter 1: Introducing: Me!
If you’re reading this, then you know me, or at least you know of me and perhaps think you know me. Two very different concepts. Let’s face it, I was famous before I even knew it and thus nearly every person who ‘worships’ me thinks they know me. Well, they don’t. Usually, they don’t even get within walking distance to the truth. Ask nearly anyone who is famous and they’ll be able to tell you how almost the entirety of the general population deludes themselves into believing that they truly know their heroes. Okay, so few people actually could ask someone famous. You still get what I’m trying to say, right?
I guess I’m getting off-topic, though it’s not too surprising. What I’m trying to do is share my story: what happened to me and how everything turned out. I find it funny. Hilarious, actually. You might not. I’ll just say that my sense of humor might be a bit skewed. It comes from a bit of a skewed life.
I guess I could jump right into the story, but I suppose you might want a little background information first, just to put things into perspective. Perspective. It’s a funny word, isn’t it? Per-spec-tive. You get a different one each time you talk to someone. Oh well, never mind that. Let’s get on with it.
So, we’ll skim over all of the boring stuff so that we can really get in to what I want to talk about. The skewing of my life happened quite early. I mean, usually people’s lives start getting screwed up around the teenage years, maybe later. Oh, right. On to the facts. My parents died when I was very young, so I was pushed off onto some relatives for protection and to be with my remaining blood family and all that rot. I wasted eleven years of my life with my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin (who happened to be fat enough to feed an entire village, except I’m not too certain about the nutritional value of blubber). They were truly awful people. No, they didn’t abuse me or anything, I just was never a part of their family. I guess it was a fear thing, they couldn’t stand my type. After those years of living among the most boring family you could possibly imagine (they would call themselves ‘normal’, of course), I was invited to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Oh yeah, guess I forgot to mention I was a wizard. Funny that. Anyway, I finally made friends, found out I was famous, and had a generally exciting time. Only one catch:
Voldemort.
Or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who or even Tom Riddle. Call him the Irate Jester for all I care. It doesn’t really matter what you call him. He’s the Mr. Big-Bad-And-Evil of my little fairy tale. Of course he’s not the only one, but that won’t really matter until later. Now that I think of it, I’m pretty sure that fairy tales are supposed to end in happily ever after. You know what I’m talking about, like the kiddies’ version of Snow White or something. Oh, never mind.
Anyway, I have had practically yearly encounters with Snake-head since I’ve started school at Hogwarts, all of which I’ve obviously survived (I highly doubt a ghost would be able to write this). I eventually found out why he continues to try so hard to kill me when the Headmaster of my school decided it was time to let me in on that little secret. It only took five years of panic, fear, stupid adventures, and one really screwed up rescue attempt for him to finally decide that. Oh, Dumbledore. He surely meant well. He was simply always so mysterious when it came to information about my life. You see, one of my Professors (a rather batty one at that) made a prophecy that I would be the one that’s destined to fight the Dark Lord. I must say it was a pretty sucky revelation, especially since it came right after the death of my Godfather, Sirius, a man that I had met in my third year of Hogwarts; only about two years before. I had grown close to him in those two years, so I can say that I was devastated. Obviously it was right after that bit of catastrophe that I was told that I had to kill the strongest dark wizard since Grindlewald or be killed myself. Yeah, thanks for the pick-me-up, Headmaster.
By the way, my name is Harry Potter, if you haven’t already figured that out.
So my goal in life is apparently to get rid of Mr. Big-Bald-And-Angry while trying not to be killed by people who hate me for, well, living in general. I’d say that my friends make it all easier, but…well interpersonal relationships are difficult enough for any normal young adult. Imagine if you had some insane wacko after you. Seriously, nothing makes that easier. Nothing. Mind you, I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate my friends. They’ve always tried to be there for me. I mean, they’re the reason why I was so infatuated with the Wizarding World when I was first introduced to it. But they could never be a barrier from the complete horror that was Lord Voldemort.
And now that we have covered all of that, we can finally get into what happened around the time things started all spinning out of control. Spinning is pretty fun when you’re bored, but let me tell you, from what I remember, a life spinning out of control just isn’t the same. It’s all the sick vertigo feeling you get afterward and none of the pleasant dizziness and excitement you’d get while actually spinning. I guess the easiest way to say it is that it sucks. It well and truly sucks.
Well, let’s get on to the story before I get off-topic again, shall we? We’ll begin with my sixth year of Hogwarts, somewhere near Christmas, I believe.
Please review. Ideas, thoughts, anything. Feel free to point out anything in my story. Any reviews are better than none at all. Thanks!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I quite obviously make no money at all in writing this…
On The Wrong Side of Sanity
Chapter 1: Introducing: Me!
If you’re reading this, then you know me, or at least you know of me and perhaps think you know me. Two very different concepts. Let’s face it, I was famous before I even knew it and thus nearly every person who ‘worships’ me thinks they know me. Well, they don’t. Usually, they don’t even get within walking distance to the truth. Ask nearly anyone who is famous and they’ll be able to tell you how almost the entirety of the general population deludes themselves into believing that they truly know their heroes. Okay, so few people actually could ask someone famous. You still get what I’m trying to say, right?
I guess I’m getting off-topic, though it’s not too surprising. What I’m trying to do is share my story: what happened to me and how everything turned out. I find it funny. Hilarious, actually. You might not. I’ll just say that my sense of humor might be a bit skewed. It comes from a bit of a skewed life.
I guess I could jump right into the story, but I suppose you might want a little background information first, just to put things into perspective. Perspective. It’s a funny word, isn’t it? Per-spec-tive. You get a different one each time you talk to someone. Oh well, never mind that. Let’s get on with it.
So, we’ll skim over all of the boring stuff so that we can really get in to what I want to talk about. The skewing of my life happened quite early. I mean, usually people’s lives start getting screwed up around the teenage years, maybe later. Oh, right. On to the facts. My parents died when I was very young, so I was pushed off onto some relatives for protection and to be with my remaining blood family and all that rot. I wasted eleven years of my life with my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin (who happened to be fat enough to feed an entire village, except I’m not too certain about the nutritional value of blubber). They were truly awful people. No, they didn’t abuse me or anything, I just was never a part of their family. I guess it was a fear thing, they couldn’t stand my type. After those years of living among the most boring family you could possibly imagine (they would call themselves ‘normal’, of course), I was invited to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Oh yeah, guess I forgot to mention I was a wizard. Funny that. Anyway, I finally made friends, found out I was famous, and had a generally exciting time. Only one catch:
Voldemort.
Or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who or even Tom Riddle. Call him the Irate Jester for all I care. It doesn’t really matter what you call him. He’s the Mr. Big-Bad-And-Evil of my little fairy tale. Of course he’s not the only one, but that won’t really matter until later. Now that I think of it, I’m pretty sure that fairy tales are supposed to end in happily ever after. You know what I’m talking about, like the kiddies’ version of Snow White or something. Oh, never mind.
Anyway, I have had practically yearly encounters with Snake-head since I’ve started school at Hogwarts, all of which I’ve obviously survived (I highly doubt a ghost would be able to write this). I eventually found out why he continues to try so hard to kill me when the Headmaster of my school decided it was time to let me in on that little secret. It only took five years of panic, fear, stupid adventures, and one really screwed up rescue attempt for him to finally decide that. Oh, Dumbledore. He surely meant well. He was simply always so mysterious when it came to information about my life. You see, one of my Professors (a rather batty one at that) made a prophecy that I would be the one that’s destined to fight the Dark Lord. I must say it was a pretty sucky revelation, especially since it came right after the death of my Godfather, Sirius, a man that I had met in my third year of Hogwarts; only about two years before. I had grown close to him in those two years, so I can say that I was devastated. Obviously it was right after that bit of catastrophe that I was told that I had to kill the strongest dark wizard since Grindlewald or be killed myself. Yeah, thanks for the pick-me-up, Headmaster.
By the way, my name is Harry Potter, if you haven’t already figured that out.
So my goal in life is apparently to get rid of Mr. Big-Bald-And-Angry while trying not to be killed by people who hate me for, well, living in general. I’d say that my friends make it all easier, but…well interpersonal relationships are difficult enough for any normal young adult. Imagine if you had some insane wacko after you. Seriously, nothing makes that easier. Nothing. Mind you, I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate my friends. They’ve always tried to be there for me. I mean, they’re the reason why I was so infatuated with the Wizarding World when I was first introduced to it. But they could never be a barrier from the complete horror that was Lord Voldemort.
And now that we have covered all of that, we can finally get into what happened around the time things started all spinning out of control. Spinning is pretty fun when you’re bored, but let me tell you, from what I remember, a life spinning out of control just isn’t the same. It’s all the sick vertigo feeling you get afterward and none of the pleasant dizziness and excitement you’d get while actually spinning. I guess the easiest way to say it is that it sucks. It well and truly sucks.
Well, let’s get on to the story before I get off-topic again, shall we? We’ll begin with my sixth year of Hogwarts, somewhere near Christmas, I believe.
Please review. Ideas, thoughts, anything. Feel free to point out anything in my story. Any reviews are better than none at all. Thanks!
Sign up to rate and review this story