A/N: Credits go to Ginny Jake's "Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep" and A Scary Man's "Through A Child's Eyes" for inspiration in this fic. I don't own Harry Potter; copyright privileges go to all the according authorities.

The teenage girl swept the brush through her hair furiously. Nothing was right in the world. Nothing. She had sworn to herself she would not cry; would not weep for the loss. Unimportant as it was, it was still a loss. Her fiancé had betrayed her. Told her he would not leave her for his work. He'd lied; he felt his work was more crucial than keeping their love strong.

The government had troubles, of course. Keeping the rest of the world from knowing. The girl had never revealed her true identity to her fiancé; never told him what she was. It didn't matter now, for things wouldn't have been different. She cursed herself for what she'd done.

Fingering her long, dark hair carefully, she was thankful for the long sleeves of the school uniforms. They covered up the scarring; the mistakes she'd made. Or were they mistakes at all? She lay down on her bed, and opened her diary. Her one confidante. Flipping back to two months ago, she wondered if the choice she'd made so young was the right one. These were the few pages in which she'd written her doubts.

She thought about the consequences: what if her side didn't win? It was in all the muggle texts; the side seeming more powerful will always be overcome. A war was coming; that was a given. How would she cope with her family, and her friends? Would she let them die? Would she die trying to protect them?

So many questions. Never ask questions, he had said, it is a sign of weakness. Questions will bring answers that end in pain. She closed her diary, and sat at her dressing table in her nightgown. Her reflection seemed perfect, though it was her eyes that gave her away. Her eyes held pain, and lots of it. She always looked people in the eyes; letting them know she wasn't afraid of them. What she was terrified of was letting her betrayal, her guilt, show through.

She picked up her lipstick, and outlined her perfectly shaped lips. She brushed eye shadow over her perfect eyelids that lay over her perfect blue eyes. She placed rouge on her beautiful high cheekbones. She hated being perfect, but she had to be there when it happened, so she might as well look decent.

Maybe that was the reason she went over the edge. She was virtually perfect, perfect in every way. She had been raised by wonderful parents, having done no wrong her school years. Well, except for that time she was caught snogging in an empty classroom by a little girl.

She ran her hairbrush through her hair again, trying to remember that year. After she'd been attacked…yes, that must've been when she decided it was easier to give in than try to protect herself. If you can't beat them, join them. The old muggle phrase ran through her mind. She shook her head. I must forget my muggle-born past, she thought, and they must never find out about it.

She did not want to be there when it happened, for it would be too painful…no, not too painful. It would make her feel guilty, guilty of causing this pain for his family. She wanted it to be a group surprise attack; she didn't expect her presence to be requested. Still, she was not comfortable with the situation.

She knew his schedule by heart; she was, after all, his wife-to-be. She told them he would be at work, as usual.

She stood up, bringing the brush through her shining hair one last time. Opening her bedroom window to make it look like she'd snuck out, she Apparated to the field near the Ministry of Magic's main office.