I’ve wanted to do this fun thing for a while, but I just haven’t found the time to do it. Which is a really lame excuse because it took me all of five minutes.
I’ve talked recently about how I’ve been working on my old fanfic and rewriting it. Partially it’s because it’s super fun for me, but also because it’s a great exercise to get the writing brain working. As such, I thought it would be fun to do a side by side comparison of the first six-hundred words of each story to see how different they are. The first six-hundred of the original fanfic are from fourteen-ish years ago, and are almost the first words I ever wrote in a story. Not quite the first, because I had to do a few in school when I was younger, and all that. But it’s the first thing that I wrote when I realized writing was a thing I could do. I think I had always just assumed that only certain people could be writers, and that I wasn’t one of them. By contrast, the following six-hundred words are much more recent. I think it was last year that I started on it, but not 100% certain. In any case, we’ve come a long way. Neither of the sections have been edited, so it is what it is. Enjoy!
Original Fanfic circa 2005:
My name is Jade Summers, and I am a witch. I have dark brown hair and black eyes and am turning 16 today. I go to Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and come September will be starting my 6th year. I am a fairly powerful witch, and can use magic without the use of my wand; this is very convenient, but I don’t want people to know, so I always use my wand. I also never had to say spells out loud. Fortunately this was somewhat common, especially because we had to learn it in school, but I still said a lot of spells out loud, just to keep people off my back. Both of my parents were in Slytherin, both of them are Death-eaters and therefore I am obviously in Slytherin and clearly a pureblood. I don’t necessarily condone what my parents do under the influence of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but I do think that the mudbloods and blood traitors are unworthy of our time and the muggle borns should not be allowed to attend Hogwart’s. However, Dumbledore is so much of a muggle lover that they still attend. Oh well, everything can’t be perfect in life, but tonight will at least be fun.
Tonight my parents are throwing a party to celebrate my 16th birthday, and tonight is the night that I will receive my Dark Mark from the Dark Lord himself. As I said before, I am not sure if I am supportive of the whole muggle baiting and taking over the world kind of thing, but I am a good daughter, and I will make my parents proud and do as they say. Because it isn’t a good thing when I don’t obey my father.
For the special occasion of tonight, my mother bought me a gorgeous dress to wear. It is a white dress with a sweetheart neckline and fans out in an A line fashion, with a bit of crinoline underneath to give it some body. It is absolute beautiful and it makes me look radiant. My hair is done up in a curly up-do and my makeup is light to show off my natural beauty. Tonight is the night that I seal my fate for the future and that I make my parents proud.
At five thirty, just after I had finished getting dressed, Kera, our house elf came up to my room to let me know that my father and a guest wanted to see me in his study. It was here, the time for me to receive my Mark, and I couldn’t believe that I was going to see the Dark Lord in person, the though both frightened and excited me. I checked my appearance in the mirror once more before I slowly headed out my door and down the stairs to my father’s study. I walked past the grand ballroom, where the celebration was to be held and was breath taken by the decorations. I wanted to linger and take it all in, but I then remembered why I come downstairs in the first place. I walked to the doors of my father’s study and knock lightly.
Rewritten Fanfic circa 2018:
At quarter to six, I slipped on my shoes and adjusted the diamond headband on my head. I hated it. I felt like it made me stand out too much, but my mother had insisted. I stepped in front of the mirror and took in my appearance. It had been a while since I had dressed up and I was a little shocked at the result. After years and years of training with Monsieur Allant in the summer, I had finally slimmed down to the size my mother had been at my age. As I got older, my hair had finally decided to lay flat, and with Sophie’s help, I knew I looked like the spitting image of my mother. It took my breath away. I felt like I was looking at an old picture.
I wasted a few more minutes admiring the way my custom-made dress fit me. My mother had insisted it be white as a sign of youth and innocence. She had said that my sixteenth birthday was very important. With my dark hair, and my slight tan, the white stood out even more, and I couldn’t help but twirl to show off the full skirt. It really was a fun dress.
But I knew I was cutting it close, and had to make my way down to my father’s study to meet him before he escorted me in. I left my room and headed toward the back of the house. Normally, I took the stairs near the front foyer, but I wasn’t allowed to be seen by any of the guests until I made my grand entrance.
At present, I felt a calming peace, but I knew that the second I walked into the ballroom that would go away. I wasn’t used to large crowds and I knew all the gods would be here. It was bad enough that they tormented me at school, but they never passed up the chance to do the same at my parties. My parents insisted I invite them, and theirs insisted they came – even though we couldn’t stand each other. It was especially hard tonight because my best friend, Evelynne, was away for the summer and couldn’t attend, which meant that I would be facing them on my own.
I finally reached my father’s study and rapped lightly on the door. He called for me to enter and I did, pulling the door shut behind me.
“Good evening, Jade,” he said, without even turning to face me. He was wearing a tux and I could see him using the large mirror in the corner of the room to adjust his tie.
“Good evening, father,” I said, curtsying slightly to him. I saw him smile in the reflection of the mirror before finishing with his tie and turning to face me.
“You look beautiful,” he said, and I knew he meant it. My father almost never complimented me, so the few times that he did, I knew it was genuine.
“Thank you,” I said, averting my gaze a little. My father crossed the room with purpose and I could sense him getting closer.
“Tonight is an important night for you, my dear. Are you ready?” There was no answer except yes. My mother and father always expected me to be ready for whatever they, or life, could throw at me.
“Of course, father,” I said, raising my face to look at him.
“Excellent,” he said slowly, drawing out the word. He reached his arm out, and I placed my hand on it, my heart starting to beat quicker in my chest.
