A story told through the eyes of Death Eater Selwyn's daughter, Martel Selwyn. Martel is not a Canon character just so that everyone is aware right away.

Blood Traitor is the 'pureblood' version versus Mudblood, which will be told through the eyes of a muggleborn.

I do not own any aspects of Harry Potter, expect for Martel, Malcolm, Micah & Endrin along with any non-canon characters that will be introduced along the way.

Blood Traitor o1

"You must hold on, Moira." A raspy voice ushered on a woman who was screaming in pain. He hated seeing his wife like this, they had been married for quite some time and only now they were beginning to welcome their growing family even more members. His green eyes glowed in hope that there wouldn't be any complications, so many families wives were having complications during this stage. He couldn't have something like that happened to his wife.

On the other hand, Moira felt wave after wave of pain course through her body at this point. She hadn't experienced this much pain the first time that she had given birth to her first son four years ago! It was ridiculous, never again was she to give into her husband's wishes of wanting more children.

Alas, there was finally a piercing cry that echoed through the manor's high ceilings. A much younger boy, four, was sitting right outside the door with some of his mother's family. His eyes were wide and full of surprise when he heard the sound of a crying babe. He had been around so many other babies, family members and all, but it was so strange that it came out of nowhere from the other side of the dark oak wood doors.

Moira breathed as she watched the medi-witch carry off the small babe. A boy. "L - Lady Selwyn, you must continue to push." The woman's stormy gray eyes looked in shock towards the wizard whom spoke her surname gently if not even more nervously. That was when she felt the sudden flush of hot heat, and another contraction pierced through her body. Her husband's hand was beginning to become a mixture of white and irritated red as she squeezed harder.

"Push? In what sodding Merlin's name do I have to push still?!" The woman screeched, she didn't want to push anymore, there was no more of a reason why she should. Her second son had been born after all.. unless…

It happened so quickly that Moira Selwyn couldn't even realize it until she saw what the wizard doctor was holding. Obviously breathing in his arms was a newborn baby girl, twins. Moira's gray eyes remained on the small baby in his arms and the medi witches began to go through the routine in order to make the newly born Selwyn cry.

Despite the fact that she had just given birth to her second son, and had given a birth to a son four years ago - there was something different hearing her baby girl's wail. Tears began to prick at the woman's eyes as her husband looked on in awe.

He couldn't believe it, the doctors had told them that they were expecting a strong wizard to come into their folds. His heart had skipped a beat upon seeing his second son born, such a beautiful baby boy. He could already see his features beginning to settle into the babe's face. But now, oh… He could feel the air just seem to disappear in the room and he couldn't breathe. A daughter… a beautiful baby girl… a princess.

It seemed like forever, but finally was Moira able to hold her newborn babies as her first born son was escorted in by two sets of grandparents. Gray eyes flickered between the two resting faces of her new children. There was something about the two, the twins that laid in her arms that she couldn't seem to lay a finger on.

A gruff voice broke the family moment, although Moira managed to ignore it - lost in her own world. "Windhelm, I would hope you have names." The man, Windhelm, Moira's husband looked sternly to the man that he called his own father, his children's grandfather. His oldest son and the rest of the family members were cooing at the new Selwyn addition, his son was more curious and excited by this point.

After all, he did know what he wanted to name his son but now… a daughter of all things. The dark haired man looked down at the baby girl, things weren't exactly complicated by this point but they were beginning to already become difficult. "My son's name… Malcolm." When Windhelm said that, he looked to the baby boy as his eldest grinned a smile. Micah, his oldest son was showing his excitement broadly in front of the rest of the Selwyn-Travers family.

But now… his daughter. His brows furrowed together in deep thought, he truly wasn't sure what to name her. In his defense they were expecting a son, no daughter. Then again, he should feel blessed though for the fact that his wife would be able to pass down whatever Travers traditions that followed a female through life. He was still learning his about his wife.

Windhelm leaned down and pressed his lips solidly against his wife's forehead, his eyes closing. That was when he remembered that name, and his eyes opened. "Martel, my daughter's name is Martel." The pureblood man said sternly as he leaned over and pressed his lips against the two foreheads of his twin children.

For the first time,

I realize how much I've needed you

Hazel green eyes looked up in awe to the people flying in the sky. There were a lot of shouts and … whooping. These eyes then looked down to a much taller boy, her biggest brother. Martel grinned a small toothy grin as she ran over towards her brother. "Mic! Mic!" She screeched softly in her girly voice.

The six year old looked to see his little sister running fast her before she came to a skidding stop, only was it Micah who managed to slow her down finally to a sturdy stop. Looking up with her gleaming eyes, her small fingers pointed up. "They Fly!" There was an eruption of laughter that escaped the lips of the young men, women, and adults as they watched such an innocent child point to the sky.

Windhelm watched, there were bags under his eyes and his dark hair was already beginning to gray. There was a slight smile on his face, it seemed that this was the only time that he could smile, whenever his daughter seemed to find new ways of people realizing the innocence of the world. His eyes glanced over to his wife who was pressing her lips into a fine line while she listened to a gaggle of women who were acting like they were back in school all over again. On the other hand, Windhelm could only glare to the hand that was rested almost firmly on his shoulder.

That was when he saw the gray green eyes of a particular pureblood. "Lucious, what do I owe this pleasure?" The older pureblood was known for letting men and women know if he had anything against the family name that was attached to them, however the older Selwyn knew that he could show that he disliked the platinum man yet they were allies.. in a much greater force than separate.

Lucious Malfoy clicked his tongue together and smirked as he was lead to a quieter area to speak. So many purebloods, husband and wives, children, cousins, even the lottering and living Grandparents joined in the afternoon socialite get together.

Once they were excused from aging eyes and prying wives, Windhelm had led the man to the a secluded garden area where the group of men could see the Quidditch game still being played. There was a small smile on the man's face as he could hear his daughter's squeals of delight.

Dolohov, Rosier, Flint, Goyle, Avery, Crabbe, Nott, Rowle, Jugson, Travers, Macnair, Yaxley, and now Malfoy and Selwyn. Most of what was remaining of the Sacred Twenty Eight plus… a few other lowly pureblood families. Soon as the dark haired male and the platinum blond hair male arrived, there was a beginning line of talking. Not many of the men present had daughters, or some were assuming with their wives currently being pregnant and unaware of their child's gender.

"Windhelm, both your son and daughter will be attending Hogwarts with the rest of our sons and daughters?" Someone had spoken up, yet Windhelm hadn't been paying attention to see whose lips had been moving at the time. His green eyes were narrowed as a response. They were expecting for him to promise her hand to one of their sons already?

Windhelm spat off handedly into his wife's rose bushes. "She is, yet I do not see a reason to promise anything now." There was a small scoff coming from … ah, Malfoy. "Lucious, if you would like to express your concern?" The Selwyn snarled offhandedly to the man standing in the center.

The pureblood man smirked, his eyes showing his dislike for the Selwyn's response. "Why not, Windhelm? She can develop a bond.. with her future." Lucious was aware of what thin ice that he had been treading upon, but why not test it and see if he could get it to crack?

Windhelm was about to make a retort before there was a sudden sound came from where the husbands had sneaked off before. The first thing that leapt into Windhelm's mind was about his family, his wife, his children - sons and his daughter. Only to find that it happened to only be a small spout of accidental magic. Vanilla pudding, thick and heavy was dropping off of one Draco Malfoy who looked miserable meanwhile Windhelm found his daughter hiding behind both Micah and Malcolm, his eldest snigger and his middle child already twisting his face into a snotty look.

Oh Darling,

This isn't the life you were meant to live

Martel found herself laying on her back, eyes glazed over as they stared at the high ceiling. There was something churning in her stomach that made her feel sicker than ever before. Her breath escaped her as a jolt coursed through her body, it felt as if it was wrapping around her heart, her stomach, bloody hell everything and contracting. She whimpered softly on the hardwood floor, the cold seeping in front the winter outside.

The eight year old couldn't understand what was going on, or at least she tried to push out that reasoning. Oh, she had been so excited when Micah, or Mica, came home for the winter holiday. Of course being the baby of the family she followed the boy into the empty room, they would usually use it for spell practicing for Micah and soon for her and her brother Malcolm.

Yet he had done something, and she stopped her spurting of how Hogwarts was and now she was here whimpering on the ground. Her mouth had gone dry and she couldn't even feel her vocal cords wanting to work, instead they seemed to scream in protest every time she tried to open them.

Hazel eyes turned and looked out the large wall of windows looking outside. Winter.. the snow was falling so beautifully this time of year. They softened despite the fact that her muscles were so tense. Martel's mind fluttered around the idea of wanting to go to Hogwarts, she was hearing so many exciting things… whenever Micah wasn't being such a git.

Slowly though, Martel found her lids beginning to droop. She wasn't tired, so why did she want to sleep so badly? The pureblood child found herself beginning to fight, forcing herself to actually twitch her fingers and her leg muscles. That's when she got tired and her muscles decided to let themselves work slowly. Instead of getting up, Martel found herself curling up into a fetal position.

It… was so cold…

Her dreams were wild, they always were. She found herself grinning and smiling among people, it was so warm despite the fact that she felt so cold. She was so much older than what she was now, they were all giggling about something, Martel found herself point at someone.. or something before her hand was swatted away…

It… was so lonely…

They were always strange. Martel found herself looking into gray blue eyes, they were so cold and full of loneliness. She had a sneer on her face and there was a pang of hurt as she looked away, there were people behind her. They … looked so familiar, they were glaring and their lips moved yet Martel couldn't tell what they were saying.

It… was so…

So…

Hazel eyes fluttered open, she was so cold. Her eyes followed the curtains as they blew softly from the open window. Since when were one of the windows open? Martel couldn't think, all that she could feel was being so cold, she could see her breath right in front of her eyes.

Despite the fact only five minutes later that Moira Selwyn bursted in after heaving at the door, the woman's warm hand felt so cold against Martel's skin. It felt as if her body was being moved so slowly and her eyes were glued to the snowfall outside of the manor's windows.

All that Martel could feel was the pain in her heart, the way that the one girl's eyes looked…

We must Spread our Wings

Even if it means that we may fall sometimes

Calloused fingers brushed away long pieces of hair that framed a beautiful face. Windhelm couldn't believe that it was that time already, once again, for him to see off two of his youngest children to Hogwarts. "You be good now, you hear Princess? Don't get into any trouble with that Malfoy boy."

Windhelm chuckled when his daughter's face distorted into a look of ickiness. Oh, quite the contrary to the Pudding Incident of 1991, it seemed that Martel and Draco were … decent enough childhood friends despite their father's difficulties. Moira had announced on more than one occurrence from Narcissa's prodding whether or not their children had an agreement of some sort.

Martel looked around King's Cross, Platform 9 ¾ to all of the other family members and children. Micah had already boarded the train after some urgings from Avery… Endrin.. Endrin Avery if her memory recalls correctly. Hazel eyes looked to see quite aways up front to see a platinum blond being hugged closely by his mother. It took a moment to realize that her father and Draco's father had been staring each other down.

There was something that the young child couldn't understand and that was why did it seem that neither of their parents got along with one another? She and Draco seemed to be best friends growing up! Martel chewed on her bottom lip, it seemed that Draco had realized it as well. Before Martel could speak up, there was a screeching sound, a man's gasping. "Oh no no!" Martel turned to find that her new pet, one that her mum had gotten her for Hogwarts bounced out of her cat carrier.

Shrieking and taking off before the Selwyn's could notice, Martel scampered off to chase the Maine Coon cat which was a big ball of gray looking ash. The feline ran underneath the legs of some poor first year girl, who's blue eyes widened after stepping forward towards her mother and watching the animal scurry off before being ran over and falling to the brick floor.

Martel could hear her mother's apologies to the gasping parents of the blond girl, who looked up to find hazel and gray blue eyes clashing. It took a minute for the pureblood child to realize who she was looking at before realizing why she had ran over to the poor blonde girl. "I - I'm so sorry!" The brown haired first year shrieked before finding where the Maine Coon had gone.

It took a moment before Martel could realize where her animal of choice had gone - the Weasley family. A family with pure redheads and a rather large one of that. Martel could remember her father mentioning that they were something called Blood Traitors, but they were purebloods like she was… so why were they called that? Shaking her head she ran up to the surprise family to find the feline swishing its tail at one of their children.

"Shoo! Go away you bloody cat!" The youngest looking boy glared and seemed to yell at the feline who had no interest. Instead it licked it's lips looking at one of the pockets of the poor boy. The rest of the family chuckled and his mother seemed confused until a panting looking Martel shyly came forward.

The young woman smiled gently. "Would this happen to be your pet by chance, dear?" She was… so gentle for someone who was considered a Blood Traitor. The young child couldn't help but flush as she dragged the cat away from the redhead boy, another boy with dark shaggy hair and thick glasses watched the scene unfold.

"Y - Yes.. I - I'm sorry, ma'am." Martel found herself flushing red as she held the animal close to her chest who was purring contently despite the fact that it's eyes were looking as if they were hissing instead of the look of contentedness.

Moira Selwyn finally caught up to her daughter after apologizing to the family back there. It took her a moment to have realized something that she had been speaking to.. a muggle born family. The only reason why Moira had been able to tell was because of the look of awethat was still a twinkle in their eyes. Despite the fact when she had looked at their daughter, her eyes had been set hard and her face seemed void of emotion. If Moira hadn't looked at the parents first, she would've sworn that the daughter was from a pureblood family.

The gray eyed woman looked up to find the surprise shock of one Molly Weasley looking between the first year girl and the older woman. It had been a while since Molly and Moira had came across each other and the Selwyn woman's couldn't help but feel her face pale.

Although Moira was slightly younger than Mrs Weasley, they had met on more than one occasion and had … a slight friendship if that was pushing the limits. "This must be your daughter, she looks very much like you, Moira." There was smile meanwhile Martel was going back and forth between her mother and the redhead woman.

Clearing her throat Moira placed a tentative hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Thank you Molly… and your daughter looks much like yourself," Moira looked to the two boys and raised one eyebrow to the signal out dark haired boy. Her lips pressed tightly knowing who it was. "And your son looks much like Arthur, do send him my regards. I apologize for my daughter's animal for causing a disturbance but I must get the two back to their compartment."

With that, Martel found herself being ushered away despite looking back at the boy with the glasses.

You aren't Alone,

Oh no, now you've got a Home

"Draco!" Martel found herself scurrying excitingly off of the train and towards the boy she had grown up with. Malcolm was finding himself drawn to the duo as well, his eyes glancing all around. Malcolm was most definitely the most protective brother out of the two oldest duo. His gray green eyes finding his oldest brother who was with quite a few of his friends with green and silver ties.

Micah and Malcolm's blue and green gray eyes clashed and both narrowed them. Malcolm knew what happened back when the two of them, he and Martel, were eight. Although he couldn't express that he knew something was off because he hadn't known exactly what their brother had done. But.. it was a feeling that you had known something was wrong.

Malcolm followed behind his sister and the Malfoy boy as she chatted with the boy about their summer. There was only so much chatter that Malfoy could handle and Malcolm was proud that his sister did know when to keep her mouth shut every so often, but then again how could he blame her? Other than himself… Malcolm knew that Martel didn't get along very well with any of the other pureblood girls their age.

Malcolm though.. had one thing that hadn't liked and that was the fact that they had to travel across the lake. Draco sniggered and decided to poke fun at the slightly older Selwyn at the fact that the poor boy was already getting 'lake sick'.

"Oh hush Draco," Martel huffed as she made sure to keep her twin's sights solely on the looming and brightly lit castle. "You and Mal have a lot in common." The pureblood boy gave the girl a slightly odd look, as if daring her to even continue and elaborate. "He hates being in a boat in the water, just like you absolutely hate vanilla pudding."

The two squabble up until the Malfoy boy had left Martel to attend to her sea sickened brother. A large man came over to the duo, the young girl looking up with large hazel eyes curious to see who had came over. "'E git's in'ide, make 'em drink pum'kin juice."

Martel grinned and giggled softly before urging her brother forward after the rest of the first years. Malcolm began to feel better once they reached the great doors, the younger twin raised a delicate brow as she heard Draco's voice and saw his irritated face as he was looking at someone. Martel was slightly awed in the fact that someone already managed to make the poor pureblood upset.

The doors swung open and that's when the Sorting Ceremony, for them to be placed into their respective houses began. Names had gone by and so many of those that Malcolm and Martel had known had been sorted into a single house almost entirely, Slytherin. Particular people did catch Martel's eyes, especially the poor girl she had ran over at King's Cross, Noh Knight. She watched as the girl tentatively glared at the sorting hat before having hovered over her heard before it screeched. Slytherin.

Hazel eyes found the look of her brother Micah's features and Endrin Avery whose younger brother had been sorted into Slytherin as well. His features darkened and it looked like he was ready to do that.. spell… again…. The pureblood Selwyn shuddered and before she knew it the Sorting Hat had done the same thing to Draco Malfoy, the hat didn't even touch his head before screaming Slytherin.

Then the boy with the glasses Harry Potter, he seemed to be mumbling to himself and then the hat announced Gryffindor. Martel glanced at her brother and Endrin and saw them snicker and smirk, Draco looked like he was ready to snap the poor boy's neck. Martel couldn't understand why. Then it came the families that started with S, and Malcolm was the first of the Selwyn's to sit up there.

Her eyes flickered as she listened to what the hat was saying, so many had been sorted so she was much closer to the front now. It was mumbling something about Ravenclaw then muttering something almost in awe and announced Slytherin.

Martel grinned as the professor announced her name, Martel Selwyn as she bounced to the front and sat down nervously. As the hat was placed upon her head, there was a strange feeling that overcame her body. She felt so cold, so lonely all of a sudden.

You, ah yes, another Selwyn. I sorted many of your ancestors young lady. Tell me, what does Windhelm do now days? The Sorting Hat paused and Martel felt a strange sensation in her head. Yes, this sensation in your soul. Cunning, sly - to the point and know what you want and just how… very much a Slytherin my dear. Yet something worked against the Sorting Hat, cutting the magical object off. She felt warm… almost too hot. It was a grimace feeling, a slight pain in her chest.

Magic is a fickle thing, you'll learn. But I can sense this, courage, bravery and yes… stubborn loyalty my dear, that's how you feel, don't you to those last two?

It paused for a long time and Martel felt her heart stop and she felt so cold… but she didn't feel alone.

gryffindor.