Rebel Daughter
On my wedding day I sat alone,
Contemplating a life outgrown.
Pureblood daughter, one of three,
Life planned out to be lived for me:
Marriage arranged with the usual boor,
Pure and a bigot, with riches galore,
An heir to produce, and to live in, a manor—
So mother explained with customary candor.
With Bella and Cissy, that life seemed just fine,
But I would be damned if I would make it mine!
Marriage for politics, marriage for power—
This I'd been told, every last waking hour,
But I had discovered my family's lies;
Their darkest ideals I had learnt to despise,
For they'd have given me as a prize to be won
To become a wife, just to bear someone's son.
Once I would have heeded every order they could give,
Before I went to Hogwarts, saw the way the impure live.
No half-blood girls became society wives;
They were loved in their own right, not only as brides,
And needed not have their futures arranged—
If one was not 'pure', one could not be exchanged
By a matchmaker into a horrible life
Of power plays, struggle, and eternal strife.
So I found my own love, and the tempest inside
Dashed to the rocks all my family's pride:
I chose my own way over their twisted path,
And in doing so, I had quite earned their wrath.
But no more was I young, or so docile and meek;
The time had long since come my own life to seek;
So I watched with dry eyes as the tapestry burned,
Casting me out of the House I had spurned.
Years have passed by. I regret not my choice,
Which allowed me beliefs of my own, and a voice.
My family showed the truth of purity inborn,
And I knew that it merited naught save my scorn,
For try as they might, they could not keep me blind;
The truth, once searched for, was easy to find,
And the answer came ringing as clear as a bell:
To save my own soul, I would have to rebel.