It wasn't as I cried when I returned from a raid, from all the death and mayhem that I realised just how far I had lost myself. It was when I returned from a raid, with a smile on my face and sat down quite calmly with dinner. It was then that I realized I no longer cared who lived and who died. I'd always though Bellatrix mad, but I understand her know. The power, it lures you in. Crucio is just one means. To hear them scream is so ... satisfying.
If Dumbledore or my friends were to hear my thoughts they would probably cart me off to Azkaban. Oddly enough I don't care. I'm not a spy for Dumbledore, not anymore. I'm a double agent, or is it triple? I don't serve Dark Lord or Dumbledore, I serve myself. But if I had to choose, the dark would be my first thought. How it calls to me, makes my blood tingle. It is the closest thing I have to joy now.
As a innocent, naive child I dreamt of my friends and family. As a servant to the Dark lord, I had nightmares of pain and death. But now I dream sweet dreams of pain and torture and darkness. And death, how I love that curse.
I'm too far in now. No way back.
I don't know who I am now, but back when I was young, before all this I had a nice ordinary name. Hermione Granger.