I had always been beautiful. When I was a little girl, with sparkly headbands and pretty dresses, people would fawn over me. When I started maturing, I could feel people's eyes on me. Men wanted to be around me and girls wanted to be me. My surname opened any door I wanted, but my large doe eyes and innocent smile enamored people.

My raven black curls and exotic dark eyes were a hook to anyone who saw me. Their eyes always lingered and I could always hear them murmur, "That is the eldest Black girl isn't it? She will make a fine match for my son."

However, I was never meant to be a fine match for an arrogant, Pureblood, mama's boy. Never meant to be a housewife. Never meant to be a snobby Pureblood Lady. Never meant to live and die, doing nothing but attending tea parties and balls. Never meant to pop out children, and ruin my figure for no reason. I was always so much more than that.

Rod will marry me. He will marry me and take me away, so I will be free to do what I want. We both have the same dream, the dream of a better, pure world. He is a wealthy, Pureblood male so mother and father approve. All that matters to me is that he has no ridiculous notions of what a Pureblood wife ought to be. He knows I am no Lady, though Merlin knows my mother tried her best with me. We love each other, but he understands that I belong to no one, not even him.

I was always sheltered. Blood flows through my veins, my heart beats, and I breathe. But I have never felt so alive until now. Now, now, I can break free and live. The world is so much more beautiful now. I used to see the fading sun's rays through the window of my bedroom, but now I feel its warmth on my skin. I used to gaze at the rain as it drip-dropped outside. Now I can twirl and dance beneath it. I used to press my nose to my window as the snow fell outside. Now I can stand outside, and feel snowflakes fall in my hair and melt on my skin.

I am too wild for a country Manor. Too loose-tongued for tea parties. I have a free spirit, and I always shall. I do not have to hold my tongue. I can say whatever I want, to whomever I want. Well, except Him…

I fall to my knees and offered up my ivory-coloured forearm. I drop my head, focus on the stinging pain of his wand on my arm, and think to myself 'Be strong Bella, this is the pain of re-birth.'

I am strong. I am free.