I am not afraid to die.
I keep telling myself that.
I repeat it to myself every night as I lie awake in my bed, eyes open, fists clenched, breathing shallow and shaken.
I think it as I look out my window to catch limited glimpses of the tumultuous wasteland that we call the wizarding world.
I say it under my breath as my mother swaps my wand for a dagger or a machete, and tells me that if I want to survive in this life, I will have to learn how to defend myself without magic.
With each step, with each breath, with each beat of my heart… I tell myself that I am not afraid to die.
But I am not brave.
Nor am I adventurous.
I am no lion-hearted Gryffindor.
The truth is… I am terrified of death.
I don't want to die.
And I know that if I stay here under the protective enchantments cast by my mother and father, I will not be knocking on death's door anytime soon.
But my mum is preparing me for something.
I know that she is.
It is an unspoken arrangement that lingers in the air, hanging heavy over our shoulders at the dinner table. An undiscussed, yet expected taboo.
Though I do have a curious streak, I dare not open my mouth; for my fear is greater than my curiosity.
I don't want to be a coward. I don't want to shame mum and dad like my filthy, blood-traitor brother did when he left us to join the rebellion six years ago.
So as my mum continually whips the wand out of my hand and places a sharp, heavy device of muggle invention in its place, I don't react. I keep my mouth shut, my face expressionless, and allow my instructors to train me.
Not only am I master at curses and counter-curses, but I now possess the skills to beat an individual to a bloody pulp with my bare hands. And that sort of power frightens me.
But I pretend that I treasure my abilities.
As my mum runs her mouth and my dad bows his head in solemn, subdued silence, I keep telling myself that I will not die. That I will not die because I am better than everybody else. That no matter what my mum is planning for me, I will succeed because I know how to survive on the devil's playground.
Even though things used to be peaceful, I always had a feeling that my life would never be the same once I turned ten.
And I was right.
Hogwarts was destroyed.
Before I even got the chance to board the train, see the castle in all its glory, and be sorted into one of the four houses, the place became a myriad of colorful, destructive flames. Flames that consumed the structure, scorched the grounds, and permanently ruined the foundation of the school.
I'm glad that I never got a chance to form a personal attachment to the place.
I don't have time to be a fool about lost memories or stolen moments.
But the destruction of Hogwarts gave birth to chaos.
And chaos has a personal attachment to me.
My name is Victoria Henriette Malfoy, and my sole purpose is to destroy everything that stands in my mother's way.
Clink clink.
The hollow sound of silverware and glass reverberated throughout the large dining room, which was filled with a dim, ghostly light from the evening sky outside. The long, sleek wooden table sat beneath an ancient chandelier, large and dominant in appearance. However, it was only occupied by three people, my mother, my father, and myself.
The space between the three of us was great, with my mother one end, my father on the other, and I on the left side facing a large moving portrait of my grandfather, Lucius Malfoy. I always sat on this side, doing my best to avoid the cold face of the elderly blonde man as I demurely ate my dinner, which often went cold due to my increasing loss of appetite as the days passed.
It was quiet. It was always quiet at our family meals. For as long as I could remember, my brother and I kept our mouths shut as we snuck glances at our parents sitting in stoic silence, their silverware moving in eerie synchronization. We were only to speak when spoken to, and speaking out of term had dire consequences. Scorpius and I had always communicated through a combination of facial expressions and subtle hand signals at the dining table. It was a language that we both invented together as siblings, and it relieved these depressing meals from the infinite amount of tension and threat that surrounded them.
But my brother left. He betrayed his family, betrayed me. Now the spot across from me was empty, and I had no choice but to look at my grandfather's portrait in his place.
Carefully setting my knife and fork down, I snuck a look at my father: thinning blonde hair sleeked back, cheekbones hollow, and grey eyes downcast as he robotically finished off his meal. Though we lived in the Malfoy manor, and he was considered the "man of the house," he didn't say much. In fact, he barely interacted with anybody at all, in or outside of the house. For as long as I could remember, my father had been nothing but an empty presence in my life, the ghost of a man who once held strong, passionate beliefs and opinions.
It was my mother who steered the reigns.
Astoria Greengrass.
While my traitor of a brother got my father's looks, I certainly take after my mother more. We have the same long, dark hair, defined cheek bones, cold facial expression, and the tall, somewhat voluptuous build. The one striking difference between the two of us was our eyes. Hers are a deep, pool blue, while mine are a cloudy grey, like both my father and brother.
My mother was the reason why nobody spoke at the dinner table, why my father's presence was depleted, why my brother ran away, and why I was being trained to kill in unorthodox way.
My mother was the reason for everything.
She destroyed the foundations of the wizarding world as everyone had known it for years, and rebuilt it according to her own vision. To her, it was a project… a project that would always be in progress. She had always said that she was finishing what Lord Voldemort had started.
My mother was the dictator, and everybody had to play by her rules.
There was no more Ministry of Magic.
No more Daily Prophet.
No more Diagon Alley.
No more Hogsmeade.
No more Hogwarts.
Everybody lived in charted areas, reporting to work at the headquarters where the Ministry of Magic was once located, to work on… something. Something big. Something that my mother has dedicated every ounce of her soul to. And now, all of the children are being educated by specialized instructors at the headquarters only in subjects that will aid my mother's vision.
And nobody really knows what it is.
But it's supposed to be 'for the greater good.'
I never held a strong opinion about this. Ever since my mother orchestrated the destruction of Hogwarts and the whole basic system, I just played the part of her ignorant child. As long as I was safe and could be tucked away in my bed at home with my brother, I did not care that I would never be able to go to Hogwarts, play Quidditch, or interact with other wizarding folk.
To be honest, I still don't care too much.
What I do care about is the fact that my mother is planning to use me for something.
I care about the fact that I will have to leave the safety of my home, and face the hellstorm waiting for me.
And I am afraid.
I don't want to be brave.
I want to stay right here, keep my mouth shut, and let my mother run this whole thing.
I'm not my brother.
I don't have radical, differentiating opinions. I don't have impulsive instincts. I don't care if there are people suffering out there, that my mother is 'ruining everything.' After all, family comes first, and Scorpius betrayed us by joining the rebellion.
The rebellion consisting of a large group of people that still dwell in the uncharted areas… the ruins of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. According to rumors, the rebels talk a lot, play Quidditch whenever they want, learn silly subjects such as charms and herbology, have duels for fun, and are plotting to take my mother down and restore the old system of governance.
My mother always tells me to look out for rebels, because they can be hiding anywhere. But the only distinguishing sign of a rebel is the tattoo of a lightning bolt on their left wrist… in honor of Harry Potter, whose death, along with the downfall of Hogwarts sparked the tumultuous transformation and the era of Astoria Greengrass.
After another few moments of silent eating, my mother rose from her seat, her eyes flashing, her lips tight, and her posture stone cold. My father immediately set his silverware down and followed suit, his eyes on his wife. I mimicked the two, keeping my breaths quiet and ignoring the itch behind my ear as I attempted to resist the urge to move a muscle.
Without breaking eye contact with my father, my mother spoke in a clear voice, summoning our house-elf.
"Nectar. We are finished with our meal. Clean the table."
Nectar immediately scampered out of the shadows, her ears wilted and her eyes filled with fear as she got to work, first taking my mother's plate and silverware, before scampering over to my side.
After a moment of silence, her eyes trained on me, piercing and cold. A shiver went down my spine.
"Victoria, come to my office in approximately ten minutes. Draco, I would like you to check on the situation downstairs immediately."
Her voice carried a weight as it traveled around the room. My father wasted no time in responding as he turned around and stalked out of the dining room, back rigid, his movements expressing absolutely no emotion.
Resisting the urge to grind my teeth, I waited until my mother exited the room before making another movement. Deflating, I itched my ear and adjusted my black robes so that they wouldn't drag on the stone floor. Small moments of carelessness were extremely refreshing and they could only be found in pockets of time when my mother was not in the room. And even then, I still felt her presence lingering throughout the whole house. I had to watch my step.
But I would rather stay here under the judging eye of my mother, then go out there. Where the rebels lurked around every corner, waiting for the opportunity to cause mayhem. Where you never knew the true intentions behind a person's mask of priority and diligence. Where you were faced with a robotic system that displayed a shadow of what the wizarding world once was before Astoria Greengrass made it her project.
Shaking my head slightly, I restored my rigid posture and blank face before adjusting my long locks of dark hair so that they were tucked behind my ears, and making my way out of the dining room.
XXX
"I believe that you do know why you have been summoned, Victoria."
I didn't dare speak as I faced my mother, sitting at her desk, her blue eyes calculating as she surveyed me under the dim light of her study. Like me, her long dark hair was tucked behind her ears, and her expression remained stoic. An expression we both wore by default.
Finally, after a brief moment of deliberation, I responded. "Yes, mother."
My voice sounded stronger than I felt. I knew why she wanted me here.
It was time.
After the infinite amount of training in the dark arts and in muggle combat, it was time for me to put it to use out in the real world for the sole purpose of helping my mother achieve her vision. The vision she was so desperate to keep secret until the final unveiling.
But I could not show fear. To do so would be a form of betrayal. To express the fact that you were unwilling to carry out Astoria Greengrass's deeds was absolute heresy.
Sitting back in her seat, my mother twirled her wand in her fingers, the movement almost mesmerizing.
"I want to discuss with you what I would like you to do. It is fairly simple, but I want you to listen closely, because I will only be telling you this once," she said in one swift, graceful breath, never breaking eye contact with me.
Swallowing, I gave a nod to signal my understanding.
If there was one thing my mother hated, it was the inability to listen and comprehend what she was saying. She wasn't one to repeat herself.
A small ghost of a smile graced her lips before disappearing. Leaning forward, she beckoned me to come closer. Taking a few steps forward, I braced myself for what she was about to say.
"I want you to join the rebellion."
My insides seemed to disappear as I stared at her blankly. I couldn't register the fact that my heartbeat was literally pounding against my ribcage, and that my body was instinctively fighting the urge to tremble.
"And when you do so, I would like you to target the group of individuals in charge of it, and kill them."
She told me this bluntly. She told me this coldly. Without a single dose of hesitation. Without a single doubt.
Smirking slightly, my mother went back to twirling her wand, her eyes still trained on me. And I didn't dare break eye contact. I couldn't let her see my insides crumbling with fear. I couldn't let her know that I wasn't sure if I was actually capable of carrying out this deed.
"Of course, you and I both know that you would be targeting quite a few people, Victoria. Those blood-traitor Weasley-Potter mutants have taken it upon themselves to breed like mutts. But once they are gone, then their silly charade will fall apart," she said silkily, standing up gracefully, turning toward one of the many shelves she had and rummaging through the multitude of vials with her slim fingers.
I watched her numbly, my fists clenched as I tried to clear my mind of all fearful thoughts. I would just have to suck it up and do this… for my family. For my mother. For the greater good.
Finally grabbing a small little oval shaped violet vial, she turned back toward me, the smirk still present on her face.
"Of course, I do not want you to kill them hastily or carelessly. No, to do so would be foolish. One mistake and everybody will be after you. I want you to befriend them, Victoria. Gain their trust. Once you to do, you can start getting rid of them one by one and at separate times. You have to plan this out, and I trust that you have the skills to cover your tracks."
Pausing to hold up the vial, she continued.
"This is a specialized concoction that will make you resistant to Veritaserum. When you enter the territory of the rebels, you will be taken in for questioning regarding your intentions. Before you depart, I want you to drink this. When you are questioned, tell them that you have betrayed your family and looking to fight for their cause. Do you understand me?"
She held out the vial to me, and as I felt the cold glass against my fingers, I gave her a firm nod, thankful that I was good at masking my emotions. "Yes, mother."
"Good. You are to depart tonight at ten PM. I have set up a specialized portkey by the fountain outside that will transport you right outside Hogwarts. However, the only way you will be able to enter the grounds is through the accompaniment of a rebel. I know that you can handle yourself, Victoria. Now, pack your things. Do not bring anything of suspicion and make sure to be scarce in your choices. Good day."
With that, she dismissed me and started to sort through a number of papers, not a single ounce of reluctance or motherly concern etched on her face.
XX
I do not remember the last time I wore a pair of trousers or a sweater. For my mother's sake, I had always word dress robes of dark color with my hair tucked away from my face.
Now, along with dusty trousers and a green sweater, my hair was collected into a messy ponytail. It felt awkward and improper… especially within the walls of an ancient, prestigious manor.
As for provisions, I had my wand and a few articles of clothing. I did not need much else. I knew that I was capable of taking care of myself despite my lack of experience in the real world. For many years, I was trained to do this. To possess the skills of a wizard, and fight dirty like a muggle when need be.
I just wish that I wasn't so scared.
I had been fighting the urge to hyperventilate and cry for the past three hours. All of my moves were shaky due to my constant trembling, and my chest was straining with fought back sobs.
But even alone, allowing myself to become emotionally vulnerable was despicable.
So I held it all in.
My mother was training me to become an assassin.
She wanted me to kill a whole family.
And I had to do it.
She's my mother, and I wasn't a traitor. Not like my filthy mudblood-loving brother.
Swinging my small sack of provisions over my shoulder, I made my way across the main hall and to the double front doors, ignoring the ache in my stomach and the wild, animalistic fear threatening to push me over the edge and into insanity.
Don't cry, Victoria.
Suck it up.
Duty calls.
Blinking back tears, I swallowed again, took a shaky breath, and pushed the doors open, wincing slightly at the loud creaking noise that it made.
The cool night air almost comforted me, made me momentarily forget that I was about to leave the safety of this world by treading into enemy territory, that I was just a tool in my mother's plans, that both of my parents hadn't even bothered to wish me luck or say goodbye…
No.
Now was not the time for moping.
You are not a baby, Victoria.
You do not need coddling.
This is what you have been training for.
Walking through the ghostly garden shimmering under the moonlight, I made my way to the large stone fountain, the splash of the water rhythmic and constant against the stream of thoughts that permeated my brain.
My eyes sought an item… anything significant that could be used as a portkey.
It was almost time.
Finally I saw it.
A misplaced tea cup sitting primly against the edge of the fountain.
Taking a deep breath, I approached it, took one last look at the place I had called home, and grabbed onto the item.
After a moment's pause, I felt the familiar sensation of being hooked behind the navel as I was pulled away from my home and into a territory chalk full of enemies who wanted nothing more than to tear my family down.
XX
With a thud, I landed on my feet, managing to regain my balance after a bit of stumbling. The tea cup bounced against the grass before rolling off weakly… nothing but a useless piece of dining ware now.
After regaining my breath, I immediately gazed upward to examine my surroundings. The air here seemed to be a bit colder, and the night sky was dotted with stars. I was surrounded by dew-filled grass… grass so green that I had to blink my eyes to adjust to the color… even in the dark.
But that was nothing compared to the sight before me.
The large, luminous castle stared down at me under the moonlight. Though they were just ruins, with many towers missing and large chunks of the foundation charred and blown to bits, the skeleton was still beautiful and breathtaking.
I briefly wondered what Hogwarts would've looked like in its prime.
And I was so damn close to seeing it for myself. I only had two more years before I turned eleven years old. Before my first year…
No… no distractions!
Victoria, you foolish girl, get to work!
Shakily reaching into my sack, I pulled out the purple vial, and without another moment's hesitation, I downed the contents, ignoring the sharp tangy taste that burned like fire going down. Pulling out my wand, I pointed at the vial and whispered, "Bombarda," causing it to explode into a million tiny pieces, completely disposing of any possible evidence.
Now, I was ready.
My mother said that in order to actually get in, I would have to wait for the accompaniment of a rebel.
But where was everybody?
Okay, think, think, think… there has to be someone here.
There just has to be. Don't panic, Victoria… don't…
A red jet of light whizzed past me, missing my left ear by inches.
Well… there was definitely someone here now.
I didn't even allow myself to think properly before I started attacking back, muttering every single spell I knew, pointing my wand in the direction of the attacker, jets of light shooting from my wand tip with proficient speed as I dodged the spells being thrown in my direction. Everything started to go hazy as my body took over, casting curse after curse as I ducked and jumped repeatedly. It was like the dam had broken… like all of my fear and panic formulated into one big heaping pile of adrenaline.
In the back of my mind, I knew that this was wrong; I wasn't supposed to be attacking anyone… I was supposed to go with the rebels willingly. But my panic overtook me. It seized my chest and prevented me from breathing properly as I relentlessly threw every curse that I knew without a single millisecond of hesitation.
"She's using unforgivable curses!"
I could hear a male voice to my left and I immediately cast another array of curses in that direction, my limbs shaking with both adrenaline and fear.
I couldn't stop myself.
I just had to attack.
Attack. Attack. Attack.
Hearing the anguishing scream of someone off to my right… a female… I knew that my Cruciatus curse had found a target.
But this wasn't right.
Victoria, stop it.
Stop panicking.
Stop. Right. Now…
Then I felt a pair of arms grab me from behind. Large, strong arms that almost crushed my wind pipe.
I had to breathe… I had to think. THINK, Victoria, THINK.
Save yourself.
Save yourself and… and…
You were trained for stuff like this.
Think of a spell… use Avada Kedavra… use…
No.
Don't use magic for a non-magical assault.
Think of all the times your wand was replaced with a muggle weapon.
And I let my body do the rest.
I was always told to aim for the eye, throat, or temple.
Without a second thought, I swung my wand backwards as hard as I could, hoping that I would puncture my attacker's eye. And judging by the blood-curdling scream and the blood that immediately soaked my fingers, I had found my target.
The man let go of me and I fell forward, my hand still clutching the wand, which, I saw through my blurry vision, was covered in scarlet.
I was struggling to breathe as I crawled on the ground, my ears ringing, my limbs trembling, and my thoughts discombobulated.
Why was I here again? What was I supposed to do? What just happened?
But before I could recover from my panicked, broken mental state, I looked up to see a beautiful pair of emerald green eyes staring down at me before something struck me in the back of the head, and everything simply disappeared.