Life isn't fair. I know that now. I guess I always knew. Just never realized the real truth behind those words.

I was lying on my bed, in my room, or maybe it wasn't mine anymore. I didn't know. All I knew was that my whole world had fallen apart around me and I wasn't able to do anything about it. I turned my head to the side and stared at the book beside me. Once, I was so excited to read it. Now, I didn't want it. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, what a stupid name. It was gift from my mom for my fourteenth birthday. Now I just turned fifteen. Life runs by fast, doesn't it? If only my mom was here, she would know what to say to cheer me up. Why didn't she tell me? Was my whole life a lie? If my father isn't my father, then who am I? I didn't know. A knock came to my door.

"Harriet?" Called my father, who was not my father. I didn't know if I should laugh or cry.

"It's opened" I called back. I might as well just get on with it. The door opened and my father, no, Jimmy, came in. He stood there for a few moments, just looking at me, witch annoyed me.

"About that talk earlier, I shouldn't have told you that way, it's just harder without your mom here, you know?" I didn't know witch was worse, him screaming at my face that he was't my father and calling it a talk, or not even feeling sorry about it. Was he telling me that he didn't want to be my father anymore? Was that it? "Anyway, I talked with your aunt and maybe she'll be able to take you in for a while, you know, just until we figure things out." So I was right, he wanted to get rid of me. Since he wasn't my real father, he figured that I wasn't really his responsibility. Good for him. Not so great for me. There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments until I finally figured that he was waiting for me to say something.

"Okay" I whispered, because what else could I say? Scream at him? Ask him why he was doing this? I already knew why. He just didn't care about me enough to understand that I was suffering too. She was my mom, for god's sake. Not only did I lose her, but I also lost the only father I knew. He nodded, as if my answer made total sense to him.

"Oh, and since it's you birthday, your mom would have wanted you to have this" Only now did I notice that he was holding a package wrapped in gift paper. He held it out to me and I took it. I stared at it, already knowing what it was. It was thicker than the last one, but they always were. "Well, aren't you going to open it?" I shook my head, putting the wrapped book aside.

"I already know what it is" He sighed, then nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Only then did I let go of my emotions and started silently crying. It was too much. Losing my mom, finding the truth about my father, getting my birthday gift. It was our thing. The Harry Potter books. I wasn't allowed to read fantasy books from a very young age, since they brought me headaches, sleeplessness and anxiety problems, that no one could explain. But mom made an exception. Every single year, since my eleventh birthday she would give me one book from the Harry Potter series. It was always bittersweet, since I wasn't allowed to read it in one time. Just a couple of chapters in a month, just a couple of pages at a time. Frustrating, yes, yet I wouldn't have had it any other way. Maybe it was because of my mom, you could tell just by the way she always spoke of the characters and the books, that she was a huge fan. As I said, it was our thing. She was the only one I discussed them with. She was the only one that really understood me. But now I couldn't talk to her, because she was gone, forever. I stood up and brushed away the tears. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew that I had to get out. I opened my bedroom's door and slipped into the corridor. It was Jared's house. My mom wasn't from a particularly rich family. Funny, how a house you always called home, could so easily turn unwelcoming. Suddenly, I didn't want to be here. I walked past the guest bedroom and straight to my mother's office, I didn't really know what else to call it. It was where my mom used to spend most of her time, nor Jared, nor I were allowed in there. Now, that I was here, I wondered what was so special about it. It was simple, giving off a soft feeling of comfort, with a desk, armchair and a bookcase. I walked to the desk and sat down. So many secrets. How much of what she told me were lies? I looked at the laptop before me, it was probably password protected, no use in trying. Still, there had to be something. I felt bad for snooping, but still couldn't help myself. I started with the papers on her desk. Nothing interesting, just some financial stuff and unfinished drafts for her books. I went to the drawers. Still nothing. Until I came to the one with the lock. That's when I asked myself if it was really worth it. My mom has been the closest person I ever had. She was special. Still, I had to know. "I'm sorry" I whispered the apology. Mom was a very secretive person, even with me. I possibly got that from her. The only difference was that I was better at hiding. I looked around then reached for my hair and took out one of my hair pins. It didn't take long for me to crack the lock. I took a deep breath then looked inside. That's when I teared up again. There were pictures of me, me and my mom, places I've never seen before, nor been, my medical files from hospitals and shrinks. There was also a photo of my mom and my father, or should I say Jimmy, on their wedding day. I looked at the date written on the back. It was a year after I was born. So it was true then, it was true that my father was not my father. Then why to pretend all these years? Pretend to be a happy, loving father? Then, just after my mother's death, tell me you'r not, like you never cared. "So, I'll really have to go and live with my aunt then, the aunt that I've never once seen in my whole life?" I asked no one in particular. I felt helpless and heartbroken at the same time. But most of all, I felt angry. Angry at the world, angry at my mom, angry at Jimmy and angry at myself. Because how could I've not known? Why didn't she tell me? "Why mom?" I asked, waiting for an answer, but not getting it. That's when I saw it, a small, old ultrasound photo. I knew it was mine before I even saw the date. What really caught my attention was the writing on the back. Samara Lily Evans. It was my mom's handwrite. It was probably the name she wanted to give me. Before she met Jimmy. If only she knew that all I ever needed was her. Just her. It was too much for me. I threw the photo back into the drawer and closed it. Then stood up. I needed to get out. Yet, for the second time, something else drew my attention. On the bookshelf, there was one shelf which was empty apart from two books. The final two books. 'Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince' and 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'. Those books she gave me for my birthdays, they were from her personal library. With that thought, I made my final rash decision. I took both books, then went back to my room. I sat down on my bed, took the sixth book and started skipping trough the pages, speed reading it. Maybe an hour passed before I felt the headache coming. Still, I ignored it and kept reading. After another hour or two I finished it and started reading the seventh book. This time at a bit slower pace, catching more words. By that time my headache was getting so much worse. After about four hours, my headache was killing me, I could barely keep my eyes opened and felt nauseous. Two hours passed, I finished the book. All it took was me standing up and I was running to the bathroom and throwing up. I was pass the point of rational thinking. I knew I was insane for doing this, but I didn't care, I felt empty and wrong. Everything seemed wrong, like I was hallow, or maybe it was just everything around me. Still, I couldn't stop, I didn't want to. I crawled to my bed took the fifth book, carelessly unwrapped it and started reading. This time at a normal pace, making a little more sense. I was at chapter three when I felt myself getting worse. Chapter four and I felt like I was dying. Hilarious, isn't it? Dying from a book? Yet I felt hot and cold, my breath was coming in short pants, I felt like throwing up again and my head was killing me. What's wrong with me?

"Harriet, why aren't you sleeping!?" Jimmy was knocking on my door. I wanted to scream at him, tell him to go away, but wasn't able to form any words. I felt angry and lost. I wanted to scream, yet couldn't. I clutched my head, crying out in pain. Make it stop! "Harriet!" I felt something break. Then everything went black.

A/N Thank you for giving this story a chance. Please don't forget to share your honest opinion, it means a lot to me. Also, don't forget to let me know if you would like me to update and keep this story going, since it's far from finished. Again, please don't forget to review, I could really use your honest opinion. Until next time, -Valemel :)