Pandora Alexandra Rose Malfoy.
That's me. Except it's not. Malfoy's are cold, cruel pureblood elitists. I was brought up to think that all muggleborn's and half-bloods are filthy and that they don't deserve magic, that it's not rightfully theirs.
I was seven when I first began to question my parent's beliefs, I was with my brother, Lucius in Diagon Alley and we were in the owl emporium. Lucius had spotted his friend, Mulciber or something when a girl about my age came over to me. She was a brunette with bright blue eyes and she introduced herself as Amy. It was Amy's first trip to the emporium and she was about to purchase her first owl. At this age I owned four owls and several other pets, Amy wanted a strong owl, something she could use to send letters to her cousins at Beaubatons. We had just picked out a beautiful young eagle owl for her when Mother had come to find me. She was furious to find me talking to Amy and told me that I was never to talk to unworthy half-bloods like her again. For weeks after I wondered why Amy's blood made her different to me, after all we were both young witches, but because I was the perfect pureblood daughter I never questioned my mother's behaviour, I just accepted it.
The next time my young mind began to wonder about the significance of blood I was ten. It was Christmas time and Lucius was coming back from his first term at Hogwarts. We were at the Parkinson's home and they were holding the annual pureblood Yule ball. My father had arranged for a carriage to take us to the Parkinson manor. Several families had been invited: The Blacks, The Avery's, The Crabbe's, The Goyle's, The Nott's, The Zabini's, The LeStrange's, The Carrow's and the Rosier's.
It was then that I first met Sirius Black, we were seated together during the Christmas feast and he asked me about my views on muggleborn's. For a moment I thought about what I was to say, before I realised that most of the table had their focus set on me. For fear of facing my father's wrath I was cowardly and claimed that I believed they were unworthy of magic. My father smiled at me and for the first time ever I became recognised in the pureblood community. I beamed at the attention I seemed to be receiving, for a moment I glanced at Sirius only to discover he was looking at me with a knowing frown. I panicked at the thought that he knew I was lying, my palms growing sweaty and my smile losing its form. To my relief however he didn't say anything. I knew what he must have thought me to be, a blood traitor.
At the time, being named a blood traitor was like an omen, an omen of death. They were dark times as Voldemort first began to let his presence be known. Deatheater's were few in number but they still posed a threat to every muggleborn, half-blood and blood traitor out there.
It was only eight months later that I was leaving for Hogwarts. My trunk had been packed for a week, my golden owl, Lux was in her cage and my Hogwarts form had been owled back to professor Dumbledore. I was so excited but there was one thing that I was not looking forward to- the sorting ceremony, Lucius had told me that the sorting hat could read all my thoughts and that was how it would determine the house I belonged in. It worried me that the hat would know that I was a blood traitor. This terrified me; I was likely to be disowned if my mother and father knew. I hoped the hat would show some mercy, some compassion and regardless of my opinions towards blood purity I hoped the hat would place me in Slytherin.
During the train ride to Hogwarts my brother insisted that I sat with him and his friends, this was perhaps not a bad thing for it helped me to decide that I wanted no part in the growing army of pureblood elitist's that Voldemort was building. I wish I could have said the same for Lucius. The idea of being a deatheater amazed him and I knew at that moment that all the hatred my parent's held for all non- purebloods had done its job. My brother, someone I used to look up to was no longer someone I could share my thoughts and feelings with.
I don't know when exactly he became like the rest them, the group of Slytherin's that were soon to become some of the most deadly deatheater's but I do know the day of my sorting set many things into motion.
I felt more intimidated than I ever had when I first walked into the great hall, surrounded by other people my age. It was then that it occurred to me that most of the people around me would be with me for the next seven years. It was a rather dark thought seeing as Narcissa Black, a girl I despised was part of the crowd, not to mention her cousin Sirius.
The sorting was nothing unusual until of course, Sirius Black was sorted into Gryffindor. The great hall was silent for several seconds before a strict looking professor began to clap and the rest of the hall joined in while Sirius walked towards the Gryffindor table. The sorting carried on for several more minutes before my name was called.
Pandora Alexandra Rose Malfoy!
I walked towards the stool as any Malfoy would, my posture was confident and I had my head held high, a small smile graced my lips, my white-blond hair a dead giveaway of my identity. Misty green eyes sparkling with anticipation I sat on the stool and waited for the sorting hat to be placed upon my head. It was an odd feeling, wearing the tattered old hat; it was almost as if I could feel its presence in my mind.
It spoke in riddles, analysing my thoughts critically, searching for all the hidden thoughts and feelings I struggled to conceal. Not Gryffindor I chanted I was pleading with the hat, begging for it to place me into Slytherin. After several minutes the hat came to a decision, just not the one I had hoped for.
RAVENCLAW!
For a second I stayed perfectly still, like for Sirius the applause had been slow but eventually the hall was echoing with cheers. The hat was taken from my head, revealing my blond curls once more. I walked towards the Ravenclaw table shakily, admittedly it could have been worse I could have been in Gryffindor. In fact I almost was, but the hat had some mercy. I could only imagine my mother and father's rage as to why I wasn't in Slytherin; I could imagine my brother's anger towards me for my lack of Slytherin qualities. Honestly, I was glad to be in Ravenclaw; being in Slytherin did something to a person take Lucius for example he was perfectly normal until he was placed in that cursed house. Had my brother been in Gryffindor the chances of him ever becoming a deatheater were next to nothing after all, Gryffindor's are brave enough to refuse, to say no, they are resilient. Lucius wasn't. It wasn't just the house either, it was the people they poisoned his sweet mind filling it with dark thoughts. But as they say see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. At the tender age of twelve Lucius had experienced a lot of evil because of my parents, he didn't see the beauty and light that he used to. He only saw the darkness, he was a true Malfoy.