AN: This is written for Week 1: History Appreciation for the Camp Potter II challenge. The prompt was, "Write about Cedrella Weasley n. Black.". I used the optional prompt, "restraint".
I do not look at him, because it is not allowed. I know he is not acceptable, that he is a blood traitor and that his whole family is one large stain on all of us purebloods. I know that is is better to shun him. I do not feel it, though.
Everytime I look at him, my heart forgets how to beat and my lungs forget how to breathe. My stomach does somersaults through my body and I can barely speak without my tongue tying itself into knots. Mother has noticed, I know she has. She has not seen me around him, but she has studied carefully my reaction to his name and to his families name. She narrows her eyes at me and praises Callidora loudly for her respectable choice of suitor, Harfang Longbottom, always sure that I am in earshot. Mother will never chastise me aloud for fear that Father will hear whom my object of affections is and punish us both for it. So in a way, my mother is my ally in this war.
And a war it is, a civil war. I do not want to feel this way, but the brain does not get to choose whom the heart goes after. I do my best to fight it, but I am helpless. He has seen my looking, I know he has. He has smiled at me and waved a few times, and he once spoke to me before class began. I can't remember what we talked about, I was so distracted by the sound of his voice. Though his classmate's voices were cracking and changing, his had evenly gone from a boyish alto to a manly baritone with no awkwardness. His more acceptable peers do not please me; they have cracking voices and gangly limbs and little coordination, as though they are only just learning how to operate their bodies. They hold their heads high and kick down their fellow humans with disgust on their faces for something they cannot help. It isn't at all attractive. How do I train myself to love something so repulsive?
Mother says that purebloods have the superior morals. She is right about one thing, namely the superior part. We are expected to act as though we believe we're better than everyone else, and many of us do believe it. Not me, though. I don't wish to see Mudbloods and Muggles crushed underneath me, yet I am to marry someone who will do just that. I am told that I must support my husband in his endeavors and never fight him on his decisions. What if his decision is that I must do something awful to someone, just because they are not pure enough? I don't know how I will survive it.
Callidora says I am not supposed to be happy in my marriage or love my husband. My happiness will come from knowing I have made my family proud, and my love from the love I give to the wizarding kind. She believes these things with all her heart, that she will never want for anything more so long as she can marry honorably for her family. When I speak with her, I almost believe that I could do it too. I could sacrifice myself for my family, which I love dearly, and spend my days in misery with the only beacon of light shining on my soul being the light of honor. When I am alone, however, I think of everything my true love could give me. I ask myself, do I love my family enough to give that up? Too many times, more than I'd like to admit, the answer is no.
I will not give up, though. I will not dishonor my family or be a stain on those I love most. I will not be burned off the family tree. I will do what I must. I will be whom I must. I will repeat to myself the words Callidora has said to me until they ring true, and never will I let my family down.