Authors Note: Here is another one of my dark little stories. Like Beautifully Written Misery, expect this to be about ten chapters, with switching points of view. Every other chapter will be Draco. Also expect about a chapter a month, maybe sooner maybe later, but I believe that's a decent time frame.

And now without further ado, I bring you:

The Ironies of Innocence

Innocence: freedom from sin, moral wrong, evil.

"His first kill," my master said with a hidden smile.

My father laughed and pushed me forward.

The small boy trembled beneath me; suddenly I realized that it was I he was scared of. I, who possessed the power over his life, his fate, his destiny. And then I realized it was I who stripped the world of what little beauty it had. I was a murder of innocence, a rapist of virtue.

"Do it," my father whispered harshly in my ear, "The Dark Lord grows impatient."

I raised my wand and gazed into the boy's dark grey eyes, so like my own, and uttered the words.

He fell dead before my eyes, so uncommonly overcast.

I craved it, needed it, desperately wanted it. But it had been denied to me my entire life. Instead I was forced to kill it, make it bleed before me. I always would stand there peering into it, wishing that maybe I could absorb that which makes all life beautiful.

I stood beneath a great willow, observing my 'glory'. The house in front of me was alight with the dark mark. The skull and snake moved eerily in the night, echoing death.

Inside I knew that a new mother lay dead beside her baby. I knew that the father would come home and utter a noise to terrible so horrible that the whole world would cringe. But most of all I knew that I would have to remember that it was I who did this.

Maybe it was the innocence that got to me, the way it sparkled around you, as if it was there to preserve your everlasting youth. I saw it glinting in even the darkest shadows, and I watched as it glowed on those black stormy nights, a flash of lightening that refused to disappear.

The old man stumbled before me, pleading for his life. He was a pitiful example of human nature, but all the same I could see the same beauty in his eyes. He was innocent of a great crime, one I had committed so often.

Angered by the simple truth that he had lived triple my years and still remained untouched by darkness, I screamed the cursed words.

His body rolled onto my feet, his blank blue eyes gazed into mine.

I wanted it. I yearned to taint it, stain it red with my corruption. For it taunted me, shinning easily when I had been trying to overcome my own darkness all my life. You seemed to stand on the top of the tallest mountain, mocking me as I attempted to climb its steep slopes. How I wanted to fly high above you, soar into your light, let you feel the cool damp fingers of blackness. But I knew you would stand below me laughing, a music brighter than the very sun.

The father begged again and again. "Not my little girl," he cried.

Emotion arose in my heart. My father would never be like this man, he would push me in front like an offering of death. Yet here this different man, yet so alike, begged me not to kill his child.

No, I would make him feel my pain, my anguish. "Stand aside," I hissed.

"Please! Don't! I beg you!" he screamed in panic.

Instead I laughed with malice and killed her; unable to deal with his love and grief I murdered him as well.

Yet the thing that angered me more than your innocence was that you knew. You were aware that I watched you throughout the corridors. You saw me follow you, climbing an ancient staircase that was well out of my way. Sometimes I thought you would lead me astray just to see if I would follow. It became a game for you, some silly little puzzle to please your mind. I played along too, because it intrigued and frustrated me all the more.

She ran away from me, her chocolate brown hair danced further and further into the shadows. She flung curses behind her back, but they were badly aimed.

"Stupefy!" I yelled and suddenly she dropped.

I walked over slowly pondering whether or not I should let her go. My master had never mentioned her name, so I did not know if I should dispose of her.

Her face called to me, its warmth radiated. I leaned down and delicately kissed her lips. They were strangely cold for me. Immediately filled with sorrow I ran, leaving her to almost certain death.

Somewhere though deep down, I loved you. Maybe that was what I resented most, my compassion for you. I had been raised to have a cold empty heart. Love and hate were supposed to be foreign to me. But your innocence broke through the barriers that had been set my father. I found that despite myself, I loved you in every way I knew how, just as I hated you.

A boy ushered his grandmother out the dark alley. But he wasn't fast enough. With a sudden pop I was there, standing before the two of them.

He saw my mask and with a terrified look whispered, "Run Gran, I'll fend him off."

I was touched by his ability to take me on, an evil Death Eater with power, while he was barely eleven years old.

The old senile woman absentmindedly wandered off into the shadows, humming to herself.

I cared nothing about her, I knew she was harmless. It was the boy who now presented an annoying sense of nobility.

I called out, "Are you sure you want to die?"

I saw him tremble, but stand upright, his tattered wand raised.

I let him try to curse me with his feeble magic before I finally took his life. Then on an afterthought I killed his dear old grandmother.

It did not matter to me that you never felt the same. True it was aggravating, but its significance was fragmented. For even your love could not change my fate. It was your innocence that held the key and the lock that would determine my destiny.

They lay spread eagle like guardian angels that were sent to watch over her. The little girl cowered beneath them, tears of salt rained upon her dead parents. She looked up at me, her greens eyes filled with childhood beauty. Her golden red hair glowed against her pale skin, a baby angel. She was so good, so pure, so innocent.

Then, basking in her glory, I remembered, "Kill them all," my master had commanded.

But how could I destroy this virtue. It was perfection, ecstasy. God. But as I stood there, fingering my wand I knew that she too would die, and with her life another golden sun would fade away. Saddened by the loss, I whispered the words.

With a flash of green she too became a dead angel.

You see, Ginny, I can never forget her. That small beautiful girl represents a world to me, your world. One that I so crave.

Maybe one day you'll show me..