Summary: I close my eyes and slowly open them. My mind is clear now. All I can feel is anticipation of the kill. Forgive me, everyone. I never meant for it to go this far. I never meant to become this. Potter...hold on to Weasley and Granger. Protect them. Protect them from me. From a monster. From a Malfoy.
Disclaimer: Me!? Do I own the characters!? Gosh, I'm honored, but, alas....NOPE!
Demons and Angels: A Tale of Redemption
We're the same, really. If people would just look close enough they could see it that is. Neither of us have fathers...technically, anyway. I've disowned mine and his is dead. We both have people expecting unreasonable things from us. Hell, we've both even seen more blood at such an early age than most do in their lifetime.
But does anyone see? Does anyone understand the similarities we have? No. To them we're enemies, now and forever. I guess I can't blame them. We never did give them any reason to presume otherwise. Hell, even Potter thinks we're enemies. To an extent, we are. After all the fights and insults we've exchanged, who would expect Harry Potter, Golden child, The-Boy-Who-Lived to be friends with me...a lowly Slytherin?
It pains me sometimes, to think of the way things could have been. What if Potter...Harry had been sorted into Slytherin like me? Would we have become friends? Surely he wouldn't have associated himself with Weasel and the Mudblood, right?
Of course not. No Slytherin would sink low. ...Well, Potter might've...but I'd've taught him better. I'd've taught him what it takes to be Slytherin. We could have been friends if it wasn't for that stupid hat. Damn that thing. Now any hope I had about us joining sides in the upcoming war is nonexistent. Inevitably we'll end up dueling each other...to the death. It's a fact written in the stars that I'm powerless to evade.
Powerless... Who'd've ever thought that powerless and me could go together in the same sentence. Surely a name as mighty and well respected has nothing to do with powerlessness. But aren't I? Haven't I always been? Wasn't I powerless when I was steered onto this path which I'm now being dragged down kicking and screaming? Didn't I find myself helplessly persuading others to the dark side all the while knowing it wrong?
Yes. I'm powerless. Against what? Against this blood that runs through my veins. The blood of a thousand evil witches and wizards I'm unfortunate enough to call my ancestors. They're not all to blame, though. No, I must admit that on more than one occasion I find myself enjoying the evils I perpetuate unto others.
I suppose that is yet another side effect of being me. Evil with a conscious, two things that should never be mixed. No matter how hard I try to ignore it, the desire for death and terror always manages to catch me off guard, turning me into some demon straight from the darkest depths of the underworld.
I can never quite remember what happens when the demon side of me takes over. All I know is that when I wake up I'm stricken with an odd combination of elated satisfaction and deep regret.
Worse still, I am afraid to report that these blackouts seem to be occurring with more rapidity and frequency. I'm not exaggerating when I say that before too long I fear that the demon will completely take me over. As it is, there is hardly a moment that the Dark Mark isn't burning on my upper arm.
This is all Potter's fault. If only he had become a Slytherin than maybe I wouldn't have taken this damn Mark. I guarantee you that I'd have much more control over my darker half if I had refused the Mark. Damn you Potter...
No... No. I'm fooling myself. Potter's too "holy" to be a Slytherin. And without him I was born doomed. Still...I can't help but wonder what my life would have been like if I had been a Gryffindor. Sure, I insulted them enough, but in all honesty, I was jealous.
Jealous of their comradery...of their unbeatable friendship. Heaven knows Slytherins never have that reassurance of limitless trust with each other. Would I have had it? Would I have been one of those lucky few to be counted as one of Potter's friends? Would Gryffindor have saved me from where I am now?
It is impossible to express how earnestly I pine for the answers to these questions and more. Not that it matters. I was born a Slytherin, and I will die a Slytherin: A meaningless drone on the wrong side of the war where no one cares if you live or die. All I'm good for is killing off as many Aurors and such as possible and protecting the one man who deserves nothing more than to die.
I'm trapped. As simple as that. A couple of mistakes and I have found myself trapped in the same downward spiral as my forefathers. Damn them all, and damn me.
Another battle is quickly approaching. The rain keeps pelting my Commander's robes staining them a deeper, heavier grey. My wand is clamped firmly at my side, and I can feel my demon beginning to take hold. I'll black out soon. I know it. I dread to think what will happen, what I will do...
Maybe I can run away. I can't kill anyone if there's no one to kill. But as quickly as this thought enters my head, it is stamped out. The first of the Order has arrived. I'm quickly losing it. My time is running thin.
Potter has apparated in. I can see him at the head of his army. Even from this distance it is easy enough to tell just how much these past six years have changed him. A forty-year-old man in a twenty-year-old's body. Much the same as me. Only he has made the right decisions in life. He won't be condemned to burn in hell for all his actions after he dies. He'll be living it up, having a grand old time with his parents and godfather. Lucky him.
I've changed my mind. Maybe we're not so similar. In fact, I know we aren't. He's the better of the two of us.
Weasel and Mud...Weasley and Granger have appeared by Potter. I wonder if they have seen me yet. It would be the first time since my promotion. I can only hope that it draws them to kill me faster. Today, if at all possible. I can't continue going on like this. I want to be free. Free of this evil that clutches me so tightly that I find it hard to breathe. I want to die. In fact, I'd gladly welcome it...but it won't come.
My demon is encroaching ever faster. He won't let me die. He will force me to kill, to kill any and all who oppose. I wouldn't be surprised if he brought me directly to the three of them.
It won't be long now, he has control of everything now. Damn this darkness. Damn my weakness, my inability to fight back, to free myself of it once and for all.
I close my eyes and slowly open them. My mind is clear now. All I can feel is anticipation of the kill. Forgive me, everyone. I never meant for it to go this far. I never meant to become this.
Potter...hold on to Weasley and Granger. Protect them. Protect them from me. From a monster. From a Malfoy.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hmm...so much for it being Voldemort. Would've been a darn good twist, too bad it didn't work. Oh well. It's pretty good, I guess. A lot better than I thought it was going to be—and lucky thing too. Otherwise you wouldn't have been able to read it cuz I wouldn't have posted it.
POLL: But now onto the poll. I wasn't intending it, but it seems that I have developed an idea for a story. Now, I can either leave it as this, or I can add another chapter or two...or however long the plot decides to take me. It's up to you. Let me know!