Loyalty versus Treachery

I stared up at Mother, large round tears trickling down my cheeks. The woman glared down at me, her hands on her hips while tapping her foot in a regular, monotonous beat.

One-two-three-four. The tapping continued while the seconds crawled by.

"Well?" She demanded.

I knew what I wanted to say. I wanted to declare my innocence, convince her that it wasn't me that smashed the antique vase that had sat proudly upon the window-sill. It couldn't have been me. I was upstairs, drawing. My head pounded as I struggled to verbalise my thought, but my juvenile brain couldn't make the sentence come out, at least, not in the articulate way that I wished.

"I d-didn't do it. It must h-have been someone else." The denial came out slurred and broken due to the strangled sobs that escaped my throat. I silently cursed myself. My brain understood the complex nature of my thoughts, but my five year old vocabulary prevented me from voicing them as such.

"It can't have been someone else; you were the only one in the house, besides the house elves, and they wouldn't dare to do something like this. I am very disappointed in you Draco Malfoy."

Disappointment; it's an awful thing. Much worse than anger. Anger is easy to cope with; you can close your mind to the shouting, and pretend it's not happening. But disappointment, it's different. It will consume you until you feel as if you're drowning in it, before eventually buckling under its enormous weight.

Not being believed is also extremely unpleasant, especially when it's a loved one who doesn't trust you. You're family are supposed to stick by you, have faith in you, and support you no matter what. So what exactly do you do when distrust takes the place of loyalty? If your family turn against you, what do you have left?

These were the two things that annoyed me the most about the current situation. I was being accused for something that I hadn't done and Mother was now disappointed in me. But still, the most irritating thing by far, was my inability to explain myself! It was infuriating.

"I'm s-sorry Mummy, b-but it wasn't me."

"I am fed up of your lies."

That brought on a fresh wave of tears. Would it be so wrong to take the blame? When she was already so certain that I was guilty, maybe it would be easier to simply resign to the accusation instead of continuing to fight against it. At least that way the argument would end. Yes, maybe the level of my Mother's trust in me would decrease, but my denying of the 'crime' wasn't helping. So what would happen if I did lie, and say it was me? Mother would yell some more, and then leave. But then she would calm down, and move on.

I sighed. This was the definition of unjust; myself being forced to accept responsibility for something I didn't do, simply to cease a feud.

Finally, I managed to explain something how I wanted to.

"You were right Mother, it was me. I apologize."


Authors Note- I first wrote this story for some English homework, and after receiving positive feedback from my teacher, I made a few changes to make it Harry Potter orientated, and put it up here. So please let me know what you guys think, and those of you who have reviewed my stories before will know that I always reply. :)

Disclaimer- I don't own "Harry Potter"