How will you act if you suddenly found yourself as a baby, and not just any baby .
A potter ?
Well as confusing and amusing that may be , this is what happened to me.
Hi !! My name is Camelia Cerelia Potter , and I'm the baby who wasn't supposed t...
The house was a crumbling, decrepit relic of a bygone era, a place long forgotten by the world and its inhabitants. Its walls and floors were covered in a thick layer of grime and stains, a constant reminder of its years of neglect. The absence of any sort of decoration or maintenance gave the palace a desolate and hopeless atmosphere, as if time had stopped and left it to rot. It was a place steeped in shadows and cast aside by the rest of the world. It was a depressing, cold, and gloomy place that spoke of a lonely and forgotten history.
It was 12 Girmmaulad palace, but I had cleaned the place thoroughly with the help of Kreacher. I even changed the colours of all the walls.
Suddenly I was walking towards the dinning room, which was filled with people on both the sides of the big dinning table the Black's owned.
Molly was serving food, Harry was talking to Sirius - who I might add looked very depressed. Hermione and Ron were talking or quarrelling at each other Remus was reading the daily Prophet. And then there were a few people Who I had never seen before.
Just as I stepped inside the room, All eyes turned to me, and I immediately felt the pressure mounting. Sirius's scowl was the harshest, his eyes burning into me with anger and contempt. Ron and Hermione, too, gave me looks of reproach and disappointment.
Just what is going on?
Harry only momentarily looked at me before turning back to Sirius. It was as if everyone here hated me. But why? I would say I had good relationship with Ron and Hermione. Sirius would never look at me like that and Harry, he wouldn't ignore me like this. I knew my brother, this didn't seem like the Harry I practically raised.
This wasn't the Harry who'd climb onto my bed when he missed mum and dad too much.
This was definitely not the Harry who loved talking to me about everything that he had done in his year at Hogwarts
This was a stranger. A stranger who felt a lot familiar to be called a stranger.
I tried asking what was going on but it didn't seem as if I was in control of my own body.
Next thing I know, I was sitting down next to some man.
I looked down at my hands and noticed the metal ring I was wearing, with a N engraved on it.
But, what was more wierder was that - my hair was red. Not the usual blood red I like to turn it into. It was more of the orangish shade. Just like mum's
