Beautiful Reviews! Anways, I should let you know that gradually we'll be seeing more of Beth's past, and although it might not be truly clear right now, it will be, so don't get your knickers in a twist!

Chapter 17

I woke up in a room that was not my own. Light walls seemed much to like the hospital room although I knew it not to be. On the wall across from me was a poster of a broomstick. My broomstick—that, I was sure of. I slipped out from underneath the very pink quilt and realized my toes were cold. They had been hanging off the bed, which was too short for me.

I was right, this wasn't my room from the house of Black, but from my very own. It hadn't been redecorated since I was born other than the poster and upgrading from a cradle to a bed.

I knew the lay out of the house instantly. My room was more of a loft, and the stairs opened and closed and were more like a latter leading into the hallway, which my Father's room, and the bathroom ran off of. The other end led to our petite kitchen and living room. It was tiny, but it was home—or rather, house.

I opened up the ladder and climbed down, my pulse racing. I remembered everything. He had sold me out—my very own father…

I tiptoed through the hall and peeked into his room. The bed was empty, and the picture frame of my mother sat untouched on his bedside table, where I had seen it last. I proceeded down the hall and turned right into the kitchen, where he was flipping pancakes on a muggle stove.

Without turning he said, "Good morning Bethany. I thought we'd start back on your studies today. I know that you must be out of practice and that man I met—Remus or whatever, he said you had a new wand?" He let out a good-natured laugh and turned to face me. I said nothing but sat down at the table.

"Okay Daddy," I said meekly. He padded across the tiny kitchen and placed the hot cakes on my plate before speaking again. His black turtleneck slimmed down his muscular torso, and his legs appeared a little stocky in caramel colored trousers.

"So how's my perfect girl doing? How could my wonderful girl forget about me huh? Hey kiddo?" He laughed again, although this time it was deeper, and ruffled my hair. He didn't say anything about my face although I knew he was examining it discretely, looking how to make it better—to make me perfect.

"I don't know Daddy, it was magic…" I played with my hot cake.

"Well you fought it off didn't you?" he asked laughing. "That's my girl!"

"Yes Daddy."

I finished my breakfast in silence.

"I'm going to go get dressed okay Daddy? I'll be right back."

"Okay sweetie," he said. He was cleaning up the kitchen and followed me down the hall. I pulled down the ladder to my room and crawled up, shutting it quickly behind me. I pulled on a pair of trousers and a turtleneck like his to cover up as much of my body as I could. I layered another sweater over top although it was boiling. I never quite knew how to prepare.

I tucked my wand into my pocket and headed to the basement where I knew he'd be waiting. I proceeded down the dark steps slowly, and looked both ways. He stood at the end, smiling. It wasn't the nice smile he had on before, but was more like a leer.

"There you are my dear," he said. "I thought we'd just brush up on your skills a little bit. Imperio!"

My wand dropped to the ground and he made me crawl on all fours, his voice punching inside my head. How could you forget me Bethany? I don't think you did!

I was blinded and walked towards something unknown. Numbness had come over me, and it was the deep pain that brought me back to reality.

"Oh they really went soft on you!" said my Father, his eyes gleaming. "I need a perfect… oh never mind." He laughed softly.

I clutched my ribs, and then remembered my wand. I rushed to pick it up before the spell was on me again.

"Imperio!"

Someone was telling me to point the wand at myself. I felt compelled to move that way, but focused my energy on moving it in the other direction. A surge of hatred ran through me.

"Incendo!" I screamed. It was hot. So hot that my feet were on fire. The Imperius curse had been lifted and I looked around helplessly and then the fire I had created was gone.

"Better Bethany; but not ideal. Do you need a reminder on how to be ideal Bethany?"

I shook my head and looked at the ground. The way he said my name made it sound as if he was scolding me, and I felt guilty. I wasn't the child he had asked for, and I had killed his wife. Of course he should be angry with me.

"Let's have a duel. Come up here now," he said, pointing to where he was standing. I walked up, and resisted the urge to grimace at the pain in my ribs.

I bowed to him, turned and took three steps, as did he.

"Expelliarmus!" I screamed, pointing my wand at my Father. Nothing happened and he smiled grimly. I felt a force on my body and found myself bending down to him.

"Think of something else!" he yelled at me. I tried to push against the force, but found my body failing. He was using non-verbal spells. For a moment, only a brief moment, I was filled with wrath. He wanted to play that way? Fine.

Sectumsmpra!

He laughed.

"Weak Bethany! They've weakened you!" Suddenly I was screaming, my body slashed with different cuts, pouring blood onto the floor. I squirmed on the concrete, trying to get it to stop, and then it did. "You're dead," he said simply, and stepped over my shuddering body.

§

I peeled off my bloody clothing. I had cast a charm on the door so he couldn't hear me, should I start to cry. My newly healed cuts were mostly on my upper torso, assisting in opening up remaining wounds. I turned on the tap and stepped underneath the warm water, and a sigh of relief escaped me as it poured overtop my body.

He had given me up to the death eaters. When they had come pounding at his door, threatening to kill him, he gave them me in exchange for his own life. I spent weeks with them before that final day arrived, and as it did, my bruised battered body gave up. I had almost died, but I prayed.

They had used me as a test subject and as my Father thought, strengthened me for a life of evil, one where it was regular to be bled and then healed and bled again, for sick unknown purposes. I had been tested and made for that type of life, and then the light side won.

But my Father didn't seem to care that I had been alive, I was only a nuisance, and I knew it. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to talk about it.

My back stung as water poured into a fresh cut and I started to cry. I pounded the wall, sobbing in my own misery, the misery I had made for myself. I was a murderer. For months I had slept and ate and breathed evil. I had lived with them and come accustomed to their ways. I had gotten use to that, and to think about what they had put Harry through made me ashamed of myself. I wanted to be his friend, but how could I after knowing what I had done.

I pushed it to the back of my mind. If I wasn't completely sure, then no one else would be.

I deserved the pain, and I had to be perfect. I would never be as perfect as my mom, but I had to try. I had killed her, so I had to replace her.

§

"You received a letter," said my Father. He handed it to me. "Open it," he ordered. "Read it."

I undid the string around the little scroll and began to read, and then realized he was looking at me expectantly. He wanted me to read out loud.

"Dear Beth, You are invited to a sleepover with Ginny and I the night of the thirtieth and thirty-first. It is Harry's birthday on the thirty-first, but he says that you don't have to get him anything. Anyways, RSVP ASAP! Love, Hermione."

I looked up at him, waiting for his reaction.

"Out of the question."

"What?" I was almost raged and then I realized whom I was taking to. "I mean, Daddy, it will be lots of fun, and it's Harry Potter's twentieth birthday! To be invited to that is an honor, don't you think?" I smiled up at him, pleading.

"No. It's disgusting. You should be focusing more on your studies than trying to pick up boys by packing on make-up to cover up… that." He gestured to my face and I pulled a curtain of hair to that side and looked down.

"Please Daddy. I don't have to go both night's."

"Did you not hear what I just said?"

"I did, I just thought—"

"Silencio!" He glared at me and placed his hands palm down on the kitchen table. "You listen now. It's my turn to talk. You are not leaving this house, until you can hold yourself respectably, and defend yourself well. Do you understand me?"

I stayed still.

"I said; do you understand me?"

I nodded.

"Good. And tomorrow I'll try to work on your face. Finite!"

I had my voice back, but I didn't say a word.