Description
It's odd how two people could grow up in the same closet under the stairs but turn out so drastically different. Harry Potter made it seem so easy - do the right thing, be the selfless hero, and everything will always work out. Effortlessly Gryffindor. But Hyacinth Potter knew that life didn't work like that. She knew that the right thing didn't always look the same through different glasses. She knew that playing the hero created consequences that could outweigh the act. She knew that everything will not always work out and she had to plan for that inevitable. She just wanted to survive. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "Transvorto," she pointed at a pillow on the nearby leather couch, transfiguring it into a brick before sending it flying toward his head. Malfoy dodged again. "My father will hear about this!" "I HOPE HE DOES! YOUR FATHER TRIED TO KILL ME! EXPELLIARMUS!" Malfoy put up a weak protego, which combated her weak expelliarmus. She needed stronger spells because she needed him to hurt. You know stronger spells, her consciousness reminded her. I taught you stronger spells. It sounded a lot like Tom, even though she knew he was gone. Harry made sure he was gone. He was gone, right?
The Preface
