Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just play with them and then put them away.
I read a poem the last day I saw sunlight. It was a funny poem of how a young man cut his lover's hair and it caused uproar in court. I can't remember the name, oh yes "The Rape of the Lock." Funny as if the cutting of ones hair is similar to rape. Now rape of the body is only surpassed by rape of the mind.
That is what he did you know, down in the Chamber. All my first year even. It was an unending rape of my mind. Taking my thoughts, will actions. All of it and twisting them around until I wasn't sure of right and wrong. I broke free though for a while.
Oh that freedom, the bliss, but he was just waiting. Waiting for me to slip and he took me back. Took my innocence that time. Until all that was left was a shell. That is what Harry Potter saved, a shell. He didn't know that, and so he brought me back. He should have left me to die. My parents didn't understand, they never could. Father tried to spoil me back to where I was and Mum stood around watching but what could they know? Had they been pawns? No.
I put on a mask, tried to play a part. Be the girl I was before it happened. It must have worked. Mum stopped worrying, Father stopped babying. I continued on a quiet mouse. No one saw me, no one cared anymore to ask me.
The emptiness became more than I could handle, so I went searching for fulfillment. I never found it but I found Him. And the rapist of my mind got my body and soul too.
Here I sit locked in a room in Azkanban tormented by my demons, memories of my past. I hear the screams of living dead.
Hear that one? It is my dearest Potions Master Snape. After Dumbledore's death no one saw fit to mention he was a spy for their side and so now he sits here too. Like the rest of us; his cries of innocence unheard except by the rest of us.
See those marking on the wall? The rat being torn apart by a dog and a wolf, deer and flower in the background with what looks like a baby. I wonder about those. So gruesome yet I can remember the day we received a box marked Wormtail and all that was in it was this rat tail. He laughed and said it was a fitting end, maybe the dog killed the rat.
Gone are the days of your lost are my childhood days. My house is gone, the chicken's necks were rung, the home held up by magic and wishes is a pile of rubble, a skull and snake marked it. Pity no one died, felt the pain I feel every day.
My mother cried when my sentence was read. My father and brothers were dumbstruck. Harry Potter couldn't meet my eye and Hermione Granger, the Mudblood, was at a loss for words, I just laughed. I had fooled them all with my mask. They never knew me. The girl they knew died the first time quill and ink touched the diary. All that is left is me. The woman who was consort to Voldemort. Virginia Weasley.
I read a poem the last day I saw sunlight. It was a funny poem of how a young man cut his lover's hair and it caused uproar in court. I can't remember the name, oh yes "The Rape of the Lock." Funny as if the cutting of ones hair is similar to rape. Now rape of the body is only surpassed by rape of the mind.
That is what he did you know, down in the Chamber. All my first year even. It was an unending rape of my mind. Taking my thoughts, will actions. All of it and twisting them around until I wasn't sure of right and wrong. I broke free though for a while.
Oh that freedom, the bliss, but he was just waiting. Waiting for me to slip and he took me back. Took my innocence that time. Until all that was left was a shell. That is what Harry Potter saved, a shell. He didn't know that, and so he brought me back. He should have left me to die. My parents didn't understand, they never could. Father tried to spoil me back to where I was and Mum stood around watching but what could they know? Had they been pawns? No.
I put on a mask, tried to play a part. Be the girl I was before it happened. It must have worked. Mum stopped worrying, Father stopped babying. I continued on a quiet mouse. No one saw me, no one cared anymore to ask me.
The emptiness became more than I could handle, so I went searching for fulfillment. I never found it but I found Him. And the rapist of my mind got my body and soul too.
Here I sit locked in a room in Azkanban tormented by my demons, memories of my past. I hear the screams of living dead.
Hear that one? It is my dearest Potions Master Snape. After Dumbledore's death no one saw fit to mention he was a spy for their side and so now he sits here too. Like the rest of us; his cries of innocence unheard except by the rest of us.
See those marking on the wall? The rat being torn apart by a dog and a wolf, deer and flower in the background with what looks like a baby. I wonder about those. So gruesome yet I can remember the day we received a box marked Wormtail and all that was in it was this rat tail. He laughed and said it was a fitting end, maybe the dog killed the rat.
Gone are the days of your lost are my childhood days. My house is gone, the chicken's necks were rung, the home held up by magic and wishes is a pile of rubble, a skull and snake marked it. Pity no one died, felt the pain I feel every day.
My mother cried when my sentence was read. My father and brothers were dumbstruck. Harry Potter couldn't meet my eye and Hermione Granger, the Mudblood, was at a loss for words, I just laughed. I had fooled them all with my mask. They never knew me. The girl they knew died the first time quill and ink touched the diary. All that is left is me. The woman who was consort to Voldemort. Virginia Weasley.