If you have ever read any of my other stories, Love Doctor/Square One, do NOT FEAR I am going to finish those.
The truth is, life is crazy. And the people things are based on in my world come and go, and when they go its hard to go back over things for me. But I will do it. (I always fall in love with my own characters). This is something I found on my computer, hope you like it.
- About my favourite character, for someone I know will never even read this, though I'm sure they'd like it on facebook if they could.
xox
You will never forget the first time you meet. It's before your first year even begins, you're in Diagon Alley. Of course you have no idea who he is, he's just another pawn in the game, he was just someone else you could convince you were superior to. He doesn't say much, but you're used to talking at people, you say some things – but they seem to go over his head anyway, you don't think much of him – and that's it.
Yet, It was on the Hogwarts express when you tell him what you really think. Your plan, plan to be the greatest of friends – you don't word it like that of course, and you did make a snide comment about the Weasely scum that was next to him, but you still made the offer. The hand of friendship extended. He didn't buy what you were saying though – so you passed it off.
You smirked when it was announced. You had almost smiled as you sat down at that table. It was your table now, you would own it – you would make your Father proud. Who cared if Potter didn't want to be a part of it. Who cared. From then on you and Potter are enemies. It seems childish, but its not. You aim to get him in as much trouble as possible, you have to take him down a peg or two. No-one can be that…that great. He never gets any mail from anyone, and you get sweets and treats sent daily from your parents.
There's the dueling situation, the broomstick situation and the Norbet situation. And there's many more small battles between the two of you, most of them managing to backfire on yourself. You ignore this and aim to get all three of those Gryffindor's in trouble next year.
You have your cronies now, two of them. You're a trio –like the three Gryffindor's you insult constantly. You still can't get over the shock that Potter picked the Mud-blood and the poorboy over you. But then again, he is halfblood himself. And, judging by your FATHERS words to you before starting this year, the Weasley's might not even afford to live. And that barmy old codger who let such filth stay in the same halls as you will soon be gone too. You're on the Quidditch team as well.
You call the Muggle-Born a mudblood for the first time out loud. You thought for a second you might have crossed the line, but she really had called you out, not everyone can be born into such fame and talent. The Chamber is reopened, your Father won't tell you much, your brainless buddies continue to ask you about it, and for the life of you, you wish you were the heir of Slytherin, that way maybe you wouldn't fade into the background as you seem to be.
You lose a Quidditch game, once again the distraction of criticizing Potter – and frankly, he deserves it.
Potter speaks parseltongue, and he doesn't have an ounce of evil in him.
You lose your House Elf and your Father won't explain why. The year is over, and Potter wasn't the Heir after all. The small Weasel-girl is saved and Potter is the hero. Next year will be different, you know it will.
The train ride in proves interesting, Saint Potter finally has a weakness you have discovered, and you will never let him live this down. Pretending to be a dementor seemed like a brilliant idea, until he cast a spell your way.
Potter won that round, but you know him now, you know how his tiny mind and his idiot companions work. You have inside information thanks to your Father, so you bring up Black whenever you can with Potter, he knows nothing about it. You hold the power, hold it over all three of them, and keep the secret would tell Crabbe and Goyle, but they don't seem to talk that much. Only laugh at your pathetic jokes.
The great oaf is a teacher, and it shouldn't be legal. In one class You get attacked by the Giant idiots foul beast. You weren't really that wounded. But relished the attention. Mainly, you had other people to talk to who weren't useless boulders. And Pansy was always interested in what you had to say. You get some kind of trial set up, cause a real fuss, your father is one of the twelve governors after all. Yet through all that The mudblood punched you. But you will never speak of it again. Your father will never hear about this. The beast got away in the end as well, but you choose not to dwell on this.
You saw them at the Quidditch cup. Couldn't fathom how they afforded it – your father said they were a charity case. You sniggered. You see them in the forest, you scare them. But its true, your Father is among them. And you are alone.
They don't even know about the event happening at Hogwarts. You want to enter – but you're too young. You just hope its not going to be a Gryffindor Champion, they get enough credit as it is. You get one over Weasley, Krum sits at your table, you smirk at him, things are going well.
But now Potter is a champion. Why should he have all the fun? But you're very smart about this. You know that the friendliest house will even hate Potter for this. So you choose the Hufflepuffs. You still taunt Potter, he won't last five minutes.
You have a contact with the newspaper – and you can get exactly what you want, which you do. Nasty rumors about the mudblood and scarhead. You have a minor setback and are transformed into a ferret, something that the trio will hold over you forever. But Cedric Diggory dies, both you and Potter know whats going to happen now. Things are changing in a big way – and you know that at least your family will be on the right side. You make one last comment to them at the end of the year. Voldemort will return, they will lose, and you will be right.
You're made Prefect, and you deserve it you know. Pansy is one with you. But that doesn't matter, because of course 2/3 of the trio have made it to being prefects – and Potter seems happier then ever. Only your Mother writes to you now. Your Father is busy.
Everything is suddenly different. When previously your swagger, smirk and fortune were the reason you held yourself above everyone else, you seem to need something more and you don't know why. And Potter is ranting and sounding crazy. You aid the rumors. You know he isn't crazy, but you join the inquisitorial squad. Because your like that. You want to see others suffer. You don't quite understand why but you just feel normal and right when you're bullying someone and Being nice would be unnatural.
Pansy is there, your family is distant. You along with your squad discover what the Pothead has been doing with the rest of his lunatics. But they escape, theres a battle at the Ministry.
Everyone knows he is back. Black is dead. And you have no idea what your future is to be. Everyone knows Potter was telling the truth.
This year you're shoulders are heavy and you do not like it so far/ You've been given a task, a mission. You liked to see others suffer. But it takes a certain kind of person to kill someone, doesn't it? Your estranged aunt has faith in you. But you don't really know her – only the few years since she escaped from Azkaban. Blaise is supportive, Potter knows something is up. And the Barmy old Codger might be on to something as well.
You think your father might have placed his trust in the wrong side. But of course you would never say that. You merely attempt, very weakly – to kill your own headmaster. You spend a lot of the time in the bathroom, locked in a stall, feeling sorry for yourself. Then you meet her. She asks you if you know potter. Of course you do, you spit out – he is the enemy – but you know that's all wrong. You confess what will happen to you if you don't succeed. But for once you aren't being selfish. You're concerned about your family.
Potter nearly kills you.
You almost want to die.
Nothing the old man says to you brings comfort. You've brought danger into your school and you know it. But that's not what scares you the most about the situation. Snape kills Dumbledore before your eyes. He falls out the window gracefully, but eerily. You weren't ready for this or that. The blood is on your hands, it was supposed to be you. You have to get out of here quick. You know that Potter and his ridiculous minions will be after you. You've picked your side now. The opposite to him.
The Dark Lord is using your house. Though your Aunt is proud, your parents aren't. Your friends. You don't see them. You see no one. Only deatheaters, snatchers. Evil. Plotting and planning. Potter must finally be killed. So much death. You are sickened. Then it would be over. Then all mudbloods would be eradicated. Evil would win. That is what you wanted, you believe. But you never feel safe. Never happy. Never like you are fighting for a cause you believe in. its because you're scared. You see the muggle-studies teacher die before you. He second Hogwarts professor you see die. You hear her last words, her whisper.
You realize she is human. Just as human as you. Of course, still tainted and dirty – on the wrong side, and now dead.
But still human.
Weasley and Granger are at your house. They are with potter, you know its him – but he's been stung. You are asked to testify his identity. You know who it is.
But you can't bring yourself to say its him. If it is. He will die. If he dies, the hope of the way your life used to be, will be gone.
You just want to beat him in Quidditch. Tease granger for her teeth, and Weasley for his robes. You want to win the house cup. You want to receive lollies and letters from your parents. You need that swagger and superiority. What good is it to be above people if the whole world is crumbling and everyone is dying? You didn't sign up for potters death sentence, and so out of no-where you lie. Saying it could be him. Neither saying yes or no. When you know it is him.
Potter escapes.
Your father is not in good favour with the dark lord. This could be linked to you, but you put that out of your mind.
You do not talk to anyone.
You are at Hogwarts again. Walking down the halls you called home. You wish you were as smug. Wish you could swagger. Wish you could smirk. But you cant.
And voicing these wishes could never happen.
Your father needs to get his own back. You follow Potter because he's always in the middle of things. Your old cronies by your side.
Crabbe dies.
He dies.
And you can't feel anything.
Potter saves you.
But, You're even now though. He almost killed you – and you saved him.
And yet, there you are, sitting behind Potter on a broom, after letting the death eaters into the castle last year. After betraying all the students. After bullying all of them, getting the oafs beast executed, serving detention in the drak forest – after it all – it came down to this.
Potter saved you again. You were confused about what side to fight on. Because really, you're lost. You walk through the halls.
So many dead.
The thing is, you seem to think that you could've been good.
The bullying and all that attitude, it came naturally. It was the world you came from that made you this person.
That attitude made you think that muggle-borns were mudbloods.
Made you choose to be a Death Eater.
Made you choose Umbridge.
Made you Vote Diggory over Potter.
Get the Oaf fired.
Get all the Weasels kicked out.
Choose Slytherin over Gryffindor.
And in that moment Your mind was changed slightly.
They weren't as disgusting. They were just there, all of this was because of blood. And it had been spilt.
You could see the Mudbloods in a different light, But you wouldn't directly associate with one just yet you didn't think.
And as you found your parents – after Potter had saved the day, you found no resentment to his spotlight stealing. It was over though, and you were free.
And yet, Years and years later, after Potter had cleared your name, you stand and nod to the trio whose history seemed so intertwined with yours. As your own child boards the same train all their lot does. Not knowing if they were to be friends or enemies. And you, not enforcing prejudices.
And then it hits you.
How different it could have been if he had accepted that original friendship?
How different could it have been if you were the man you are today.