Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. Therefore, I do not own Harry Potter. Yay for deductive reasoning!
Reminiscence
I have just done it. Done something that I have always longed to do. I have killed my cousin. And yet-
I remember growing up, when Sirius was just a baby. I remember being young. I remember being my own; being innocent. I may not have liked Sirius, but I certainly never hated him, never wanted him dead. I was born into such a wealthy family. We had so much- but we had also our secrets, our flaws. We were all superior and we knew it. Anyone in the family who disagreed was disowned. That's what happened to Andromeda, then to Sirius. Narcissa and I were the pride of our parents, loved and adored and given gifts to no end. I was ignorant and haughty, but I at least still had a conscience.
Then he came. No, he is not Prince Charming, who came to sweep me off my feet, to whisk me away into my wildest fantasies. But he did enchant me. And terribly!I remember the first time he caught my eye. I swear my heart nearly stopped. The first time he touched me, I was filled with both intrigue and terror. Never disgust. Never revulsion.I was so eager to help him, so ready to join his cause. As young as I was, I didn't expect him to let me. But he did. It was because he loved me, I believed. He thought I was beautiful. Whatever he wanted me to do- I did it. I began to hurt people, however sick of myself I felt afterwards. I even killed for him. It was so awful then, when I still had a conscience, still had morals and values, when I forced myself to forget them all for the sake of my master and his cause.
Harder and harder my heart became. I no longer felt nasty or disgusting when the stench of blood was all around me, filling my nose and my mouth, when sticky red was all over my hands. It no longer turned my stomach to force the life out of a helpless body, to crush an undeserving, innocent child. The echoes of my victims shrieking in pain haunted my dreams no longer. It was all for my master, I told myself, all for his cause. And not only did I tolerate these things- I enjoyed them! I lived- and I still live- solely for him.
And now I've killed my cousin, the one who hated our cause, the one who defended the Potter boy. I should be happy. I should be proud. But when I saw the boy's face, saw the despair in his eyes, and realized what I've done to him… My conscience has once again been awakened, and I am disgusted with myself.
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