Another short little ditty that I might make into a longer story, if I get good/any feedback. I wrote it by the light of the silvery moon, somewhere on the TransCanada highway between Calgary and Moose Jaw. That's the truth, it's not just something I made up to sound poetic!! The title of the fic is swiped from a chapter title in Dom Casmurro, a fabulous book by Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis, which you should all read if you can find time!! And as always, the Harry Potter universe belongs to the super spiffy JKR!
The Devil's Not as Black as He's Painted
They never had to use the Imperius curse on me. That honour was
reserved for those who had nothing to lose; I had a family that I'd
foolishly left alone one night. From then on, my life was a battle to jump
high enough to keep them alive. Maybe if I'd been one of those noble James
Potter types, I'd have sacrificed my family to save the many lives I ended
up destroying. But all I could see was my wife's beautiful face and my
little girl's eyes. Kill them, or faceless strangers. It wasn't a hard
choice for me.