Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter, it belongs to the fabulous J.K. Rowling.
Pairing: DMBZHG
/The Descent
They found her descent amusing; a diversion in their otherwise boring ordinary lives. It pleased them to see her slowly succumb in stages to their pretty lies and petty illusions. It gratified them that one who shone so brightly would fall so beautifully.
Outside it was raining: a dark gloomy landscape that mirrored her in its grief. The world was crying the tears she never could, never would. To weep would be to show weakness, something she could no longer afford now that she was a scared broken thing; an illusion of the proud Gryffindor she had once been.
They had made her a lie; a pretty little illusion of truth.
She wore the scars that they had given her proudly, and coldly locked away her heart. The scars proved that she had fought, that she had never willingly succumbed to their darkness but like everything else they were an illusion.
No hope, no dreams, nothing burned inside her anymore once they had had their fun- or so they believed. One hope, however, did survive. It wasn't something that they believed would survive their games and lies and illusions. Only the belief that one day she would best them that she would play them at their own game and win kept her alive. An icy fire in a frigid heart.
Too well she could recall how it had begun, how well they had played their parts in her downfall. It amused her now, how naive she had been believing that anyone could change for the better, that once someone had fallen they could pall themselves out of the pit.
It had all started with the arrival of a mysterious gift within a basket that had been left for her. Of course, with the war on she hadn't been stupid enough to not get it vetted before opening it. It was assumed that what was inside wouldn't hurt anyone, so she had be allowed to open it and keep it and wonder silently who had sent it to her. Later she found out that they had laughed when they realised the foolish Ministry officials had allowed her to keep the mysterious gift.
She had become Eve. Just one bight of the forbidden and then she Fell.
She was like them now; twisted, perverted, an illusion within an illusion. No longer did she belong in the bright, righteous, Gryffindor throng. She felt isolated and out of place where once she would have called it home. Harry and Ron were strangers she passed in the halls and she shared nothing more than a cursory hello with them. Instead to her dismay she discovered that her new home was in the shadows that stalked the light: in the whispered courts of the dark, where knowledge and power were the currency of choice.
"Malfoy, Zabini," she said her face lit with the illusion of welcome as she slowly tightened the net around them. "What a surprise! Do come in. Pansy and I were just talking about you." They exchanged bemused glances.
Their Fall had begun and like them she would show them no mercy once they'd hit the bottom.