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Author of 483 Stories |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Golden Child
By Silver Sailor Ganymede
I suppose that I should feel content when I am sitting in the warm, noisy Gryffindor common room… but I don't. In fact, I have never felt worse. They're all so cheerful… so naïve. It's almost saddening that some people manage to glide through life without a care in the world while some of us have to face hardships that others couldn't even imagine. I stare around the common room once more and then walk out, ignoring my supposed 'friends' as they call for me to come back, that I'll just get in trouble if I go out now: it is after hours, after all.
I somehow manage to walk outside without getting caught. I stand outside in the grounds and walk over to the river. By moonlight the lake looks like molten silver. Silver… so different to the gold that normally surrounds me. I wipe the thought from my mind and sit down next to the lake. Oh, how tempting it is, just to end it all now…
The reason I wish for death is simple. I am a Golden Child. Golden Child, not a Silver Child. Always expected to be bloody perfect, but never even coming close. Golden Child. Lion Child: Perfect Gryffindor. Yes, I am a Gryffindor, and we of the house of Godric are always favoured against the Silver Children of Slytherin, even when it is true that we are as bad as they are, if not worse. They, at least, say when they are doing 'evil', whereas we of Gryffindor merely manipulate people into thinking what they are doing is 'good' even when it is not.
I feel the icy air biting into my flesh, entering my very soul. I sit there for a long time and no one comes; no one ever does. Gods… how I long to die! If I did, I'd be at peace… no more façades… no more manipulation… no more suffering… no more lies.
Yes… it's all lies. At school I am loved and respected by almost everyone who isn't in Slytherin. But then again, I am hated by almost everyone as well; it all depends on what the majority of people in our world believe about me at that time.
I move closer to the lake and stare at my reflection: it seems so ghostlike in the silver waters. Yes, my face is as silver as that of a Silver Child, and my eyes as green as Slytherin's snakes… but what am I? I am a Golden Child, not a Silver Child. Yet, I am truly a Silver Child… I'm too wise to truly be a Golden Child… too aloof… too apathetic… too imperfect.
I feel a strong desire to slip into the freezing waters and let myself freeze, but I don't do I? I'm too much of a coward to do even that: I can't even die properly, can I? So, it has come to this, all because I seem an enemy of my Hogwarts House. All because I was accepted and then shunned by both the world of Muggles and the world of Wizards. All because my blood and my history gave me a choice that was in no way a choice.
I take my holly wand and point it directly at my heart. My mouth forms the words 'Avada Kedavra', but I do not speak them aloud. Even so, I see the flash of green light before my eyes… I see my parent's spectral forms… I see the twisted, snake-like face of Voldemort. Then there is only darkness… darkness as black as death.
And then I awaken, and my eyes turn red… red, like his eyes… red, like the colour of my Hogwarts House. So, I am still here…
And then the voice at the back of my head speaks. Is always says this, "You shall not die, you cannot die. You will soon gain the power that is rightfully yours. Soon, the Muggles and Mudbloods will pay."
I listen to this voice, and a travesty of a smile appears on my face. No, I cannot die; I am already dead. My soul is gone… I am merely a shell. But soon I will be so much more than I am now; soon he will help me gain my revenge on those fools and their fake prophecy!
You see I am the Golden Child. I am the Lion Child. I am an heir to this 'perfect' House. I am the one who will unite the Gold and Silver. I am Harry James Potter. I am the servant of Lord Voldemort.