It really wasn't him you saw on the outside; what you saw was what he had to be for his father. His mother loved him, but had not been ready to raise a child. His father hit his mother, and beat him too. The first time he was away from home, his only thoughts were who would take care of his mother. Many times when he was little, after his parents had fought, his mother would take him and they would spend the night somewhere else, leaving without a word, only to return the next day. He knew if anyone found out about his life at home his father would hurt them more, or worse.
When he was 14, he started seeing death for the first time. Death had always intrigued him, and by the time, he was a sixth year it really didn't seem so far away. If he died now he would be dying for a cause, not his cause, but a cause nonetheless. He had lost his ability to love, and to feel. For many years after thought, he felt he didn't need the ability. It wasn't the road he had wanted, it was the one forced upon him by his father. Death intrigued him more after the war. It was almost inviting. His father was taken away and locked up for his crimes to society.
He was free at last, after they looked through his memories, to see if he was a true sympathizer for the death eaters' cause. He got off clean, but after seeing some of his childhood, his living hell they were more surprised he had lived that long. He swore that the intern had tears in hers eyes, but that was small potatoes they hadn't even seen when his father had shot the gun. He didn't know why his mother was so distraught when his father died later in the year. His parents didn't love each other and he had been aware of that his whole life. He had thought that was that way in every family, when he was a young child; he had no idea what he was missing. He was only living for his mother, he knew she could not live if she lost he baby boy. The same was she had lost her cheating, wife beater of a husband.
A few years went by and they learned to move survive. He moved out when his mother was stable, the mansion had to many sickening memories. He just tried to move on, but he had a few more scares. He got his doctorate so he could help others who were hurting like he had. A year when by and he had little contact with his old life. Except for her, she had been with him for better or worse, and in thick and think. She had given him a shoulder to cry on when he was at his weakest, and had given his a reason to love again. She taught him to let others in his life, it wasn't always easy and he knew it. On their wedding day, his only thoughts were I'm just lucky to be alive, I don't deserver her, and she can to so much better. Some times when he was at the hospital people that he knew would come in, most didn't recognize him, and if they did, they didn't show it. He knew that some people thought he should be jailed or killed, but he didn't care. He only had love left for his wife and his mother other wise he had a hatred of the world around him, and his father. His father had been the one to warp his mind to the world. More time when by and his spirits and self-esteem grew, he was actually living. So he first saw his baby boy he was happy, and he cried. For once in his life, he cared about what someone thought. He wanted his son to believe he could do anything.