For the second time in the last year, I'm doing a reboot… I constantly re-read my work, and I hate it more and more with every read… To the point where I can't write a new chapter until I rewrite all the previous ones. I apologize, I'm obnoxious. And I love all of you, who decide to read this story

I'm not sure how to begin my story. Does it start with my trial? The reason I attacked Marcus Fudge in the first place… No, I think I have to start from the beginning…

I was born the eldest Malfoy child, the only daughter. Yes, I believe that I should start that early. My parents gave my little brother the more awesome, powerful name- Draco Lucius Malfoy. Meanwhile, I had been given the mouthful of Nathascha Narcissa Rainier Malfoy. For five years of my life, I was my parent's pride and joy, the light of their life. After Draco was born, however, the attention was immediately turned to him. He was the Malfoy heir, the precious son and crown prince. I was, at best, destined to be continuing the line of some other respectable Pureblood family.

I don't hate my parents, though. Or my brother. They obviously still loved me, but I was the less important of the two children. After spending the most important years of my childhood development as the complete center of attention, having someone else steal that away from me started my slow descent into madness. When I was ten, my mother got the made the mistake of allowing me a taste of her wine. I immediately developed a taste for alcohol, and the effects it had on me, and I was soon having the family house elf sneak it to me every chance I got. Which, being the child of social climbing parents, was often.

The straw that broke the camel's back, though, was when I was thirteen, and in my third year at Durmstrang Institute. My mother had fought against me going there, claiming that the rough nature of the school would be too much for her 'little girl'. Father claimed that the education was much better, the curriculum focused on Dark Arts, something I had been introduced to since a young age. I had no preference, and eventually Father won, and soon I was shipped off to the mysterious school. At the time I was extremely shy, and my only companion was a girl my age named Alice. We were both excruciatingly awkward and quiet, and sought out each other's odd company from the beginning. We thought we were so rebellious, at one point going so far as to tattoo ourselves Muggle style in our dormitory. I still have that shitty little thing on my hip, faded, smudged, and looking more like a dick than a heart. But I digress.

Alice and I were sitting in the Girl's Common Room one Saturday night, working on our homework silently together when he heard some juicy gossip.

"Did you hear about the party going on tonight?" One of the older girls asked another.

"The one in the old Duelling classroom? Yes! I also heard that Hans Kurten got his hands on some alcohol!" The second girl said enthusiastically. The two laughed, and immediately started making plans about how they were going to dress up.

Alice and I slowly looked up at each other, our eyes locking, sneaky grins on our young faces. "Have you been to a party yet?" I asked, knowing she had not. Parties, while uncommon, did occur at Durmstrang. So long as no one got murdered or pregnant, a majority of the teachers tended to turn a blind eye to some of the student's rather wild excursions.

"No… You?" She asked back, pushing her dark red hair out of her face.

I shook my head. I had been to plenty of formal society functions with my parents, but none of them were like what I'd heard about the Durmstrang parties. "Wanna go?"

"Yes!" She jumped up and I followed, rushing to the third-year dorm room to get ready.

Lucky for us, Alice's mother worked as a make-up artist for a popular witch's magazine, which meant Alice knew more about fashion and make-up than I could ever dream of knowing. She dressed the two of us the best she could with our limited resources (a small make-up kit and her rather nerdy collection of clothing), and with a simple enlargement charm, we gave ourselves breasts. Not great ones, but they would be passible to an intoxicated person.

"What do you think?" Alice asked as we admired ourselves in the mirror.

"We look awesome!" I grinned at her reflection. "I think we're ready to go party."

Unlike Hogwarts, Durmstrang didn't have secret passages, so getting around the small castle undetected was immensely difficult. We managed, though, by some crazy luck. We stood in the completely silent hallway, staring at the cracked door to the old Dueling Classroom. Light was shining through the cracks, and the ever-so-faint sound of music could be heard.

"Well, are you ready?" I turned to look at her, in her long pink dress. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I didn't show it. I opened the door, and music blasted out of the room. There had have been a silencing charm of some kind, I thought as I stared around the room in awe. There was a giant group of people dirty dancing in the middle of the room, alcohol splashing out of plastic cups. Couples were making out in every corner, and on every desk.

Alice and I stared at each other with wide eyes, unsure of what to do now. I shrugged, making my way to the beverage table while Alice ran into the center of the dancing mass. I sipped on a cup full of rum, appreciating the feeling of the alcohol burning its way down my body. Drinking was impossible while I was at school, and while I never got withdrawals, I certainly missed the feeling.

I stood there for a long time, people watching and drinking cup after cup of different drinks as the night wore on. Alice had started having a deep conversation with Hans, their eyes never leaving each other. I hardly felt him come up to me, our shoulders touching, while I looked on. "I haven't seen you before," a silky voice whispered in my ear. I jolted and turned to look at him. Marcus Fudge, the Minister for Magic's son, stood next to me, a small grin on his face. I had seen him before, at the occasional event, but I had never spoken to him before.

I was pretty drunk by this time, so I wasn't good at thinking up a decent lie. "I… I really like the library," I slurred.

He laughed. "I see. So what are you doing here, then?"

"People watching," I replied with a shrug, not exactly lying. I finished off my drink, slamming the clear cup onto the desk next to me. At this point I didn't even know what I was drinking. Whiskey, judging by the bitter taste.

"Mind if I grab us both a drink and join you?" He spoke smoothly, and didn't smell of alcohol. I nodded my head 'yes' and watched him peruse the alcohol selection for a brief moment. I turned, scanning the crowd for Alice now. She was leaning against the wall, her and Hans in a rather intense liplock. I cheered her on in my head.

Marcus reappeared, drinks in tow. "So, I never got your name!"

"Oh." I thought for a moment. "Natalia, I'm a fifth year…" It was an obvious lie to a sober person, but he seemed to believe it.

"Marcus, seventh," he gave me a winning smile and raised his cup to me, not breaking eye contact as he took a sip. "Go ahead and drink up, I feel like we have so much more talking to do."

I obeyed, taking a large swig. This drink was the strongest that I had ever had! The second I swallowed the fiery liquid, my brain started to go numb, but stupid me kept drinking it. Marcus kept talking and I kept talking and I honestly couldn't tell you a single word that was said between us. All I know is that it didn't last long, and before I knew it I agreed to go someplace more private so we could each other better and that place was an old storage room and that was where it happened. The second he closed the door he kissed me and I kind of kissed back. At this point everything was fuzzy and broken and I knew something wasn't right about the kiss. It was fierce and it hurt and I didn't like it. I tried pushing him away, but his just grabbed my wrists, not stopping. He didn't stop until he had gone past the point of no return and then he left me in that room, drunk and crying and alone. I don't remember passing out, but I do remember waking up on the stone floor next to a broken desk with my pants across the room and blood on my thighs. I had a headache like no other, and I was trying to convince myself that it didn't happen. It didn't happen and I dreamed it all in a drunken stupor. But everything hurt both inside and out. Emotionally and physically. I knew the truth whether I wanted to admit it or not.

I stumbled my way back to the dormitory, tripping over myself and letting tears stream down my face silently. Alice never questioned my lie about passing out under one of the desks at the party, though she knew better than that. She should have called me out, should have said something to me, but she didn't.

3 years had passed since that night. For almost two straight months I sent daily letters to my parent begging them to let me drop out. Finally, when I came home for Christmas did they finally relent, and they agreed to hire tutors to home-teach me. They never did find out why I was so adamant about leaving Durmstrang, but much like Alice, I think my mother knew and never pushed it. After that, I never left the manor. Alice sent me letters for a while, but eventually stopped when she recognized I wasn't going to reply. I just focused on my studies, and on drinking when I had the chance. I hadn't seen Marcus since that night, but he haunted me in almost every dream that I had.

The summer that Draco came back from his first year at Hogwarts, my parents were throwing a huge benefit for St. Mungo's. Most of the time when they had parties, I would appease them by showing up for a minimal amount of time. I would dress up, sip a few drinks, and mingle with the prestigious people that they invited. But I would always avoid the Minister. His face was identical to his son's, and the second I saw him I would immediately need to leave. I would fake stomach aches, or drowsiness, or hell, the first time I saw him after that night I promptly puked all over the dining hall of the Nott's mansion, and my mother had to take me home early.

Anyways, this social event was going to be a big one. Dobby had spent nearly a week preparing for it, and Draco and I were lectured on constantly on the importance of it. So, I allowed my mother to dress me up and do my makeup, a true rarity. She yanked an elegant black ball gown out of the back out of her closet, forcing me into it and putting my hair up into some kind of fancy up-do. "You look beautiful," she said as she finished my dark makeup, my light grey eyes looking more intense than usual. She hugged me from behind, our eyes locking in the mirror. It was easy to see how similar we looked, with our long dark hair and high cheekbones.

"Thanks," I smiled softly at her. I felt beautiful, which wasn't something I ever really thought about or felt. Hell, even brushing me hair meant that I had tried on my appearance most days.

"You know, this night is very important for your father…" She began slowly, hugging me tighter.

"I know."

"The Minister is even going to be there," she raised her dark eyebrows at my frown. "And I'd appreciate it if you stayed the whole night… Or at least until the first guests start to leave. Please?"

I exhaled slowly, trying to keep myself from getting too tense in her arms. I looked up at the ceiling, willing myself not to cry. "Yeah, fine. I'll try," I said steadily, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Thank you darling, I love you… And try not to be late," I didn't open my eyes, but she let go of me, and I could hear her exit the room, her huge green gown rustling as she left.

I sat there for a long time, taking deep breaths, doing my best to calm myself. I can do this, I chanted in my mind, I can do this… I can and will do this.

"Hello, Nathascha!" My father exclaimed when I finally entered the ballroom, pulling me into a hug. From behind him, my little brother gave me a tight smile. I grinned back. My brother, usually happy and chatty, became a stoic miniature of our dad at parties, following him around everywhere. I pulled out of my dad's too long hug. Some Wizengamot member came up and started small-talking my father and me about the weather and recent events. Draco stood loyally by my dad's side, watching us talk with a polite smile.

I laughed at an awful joke the Wizengamot guy said and excused myself. He hardly noticed my leaving, leaning in close to my father to say something undoubtedly political and boring. I could never understand how Draco could enjoy himself at these things. I found them drab, stuffy… Entirely too social for me.

I turned around, and that's when I saw him. Marcus fucking Fudge was strolling around the buffet table, filling his plate. I stood, unable to move or breathe. I was completely frozen, and when he finally felt me staring and turned around, my blood turned to ice. He was smiling, heading towards me in quick strides. "Hey, you look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?" He grabbed my arm and leaned in close enough that I could smell the shitty cologne he was wearing.

I twitched, wrenching my arms out of his. I took a stumbling step back, bumping into someone. "Sorr-" I stuttered out, and Marcus grabbed my arm again. "Don't tou-"

"What's the matter?" His friendly smile turned up, growing colder as he recognized me. "Wait, Natalie, right?"

"Get the fuck away from me," I whispered, trying to pull away. It was nearly impossible to breath with him so close.

"What's your problem?" The man of my nightmares squeezed hard, and I could feel bruises already forming under his fingers.

I shook my head, pulling with my entire body to free myself. I wanted to push him, but the idea of even touching him made me sick to my stomach. "Get away from me, I don't way to be around you, you sick fuck," my teeth were clenched so tightly together it hurt.

Marcus tilted his head like a dog, that demented smile still there. He leaned in too close, his face mere inches from mine, and I snapped. I yanked my wand out of my dress with my free hand and waved it wildly; shouting whatever curses came to mind. One of them definitely hit Marcus and he crumpled, finally releasing me from his tight grip. Someone grabbed me around the middle and I threw a curse at them too, something exploding behind me as I did so. People were screaming, and someone managed to hit me with a spell and I blacked out.