Spoilers for HBP and DH.
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me.
It was on my eleventh birthday I found that I was a wizard. The new world that my first friend in the magical world helped me into was the stuff of fairytales. My eyes bounced around in my head at the knowledge of so many new and exciting things that were possible with the new thing in my life; magic.
I was excited that for the first time in my life, I was going to be separated from my so called family. I had with money of my own and the knowledge that my parents loved me enough to actually give their lives for me. I was happy. The years that followed were more or less filled with adventures and studies with my friends who could not be bullied by my fat whale of the cousin. It was in my third year that I began to notice the utter disregard that the adults possessed for the younger generation deeming them as pampered brats even if it was the Boy Who Lived that they routinely lauded in their lives and papers. The grime and the grease that covered the magical world beneath the layer of shiny magical goop was enough to turn my head as I saw the reality of the wizarding world. I was disillusinized rudely and quickly.
I never really questioned the things that went around me until my fifth year. Early into my career in Hogwarts I discovered that witches and wizards refused to believe even the simplest accusations that their magic wasn't powerful enough than the others; that they have wrought a magic that couldn't be undone by someone else. It at times made me; laugh sometimes in amusement, sometimes at sheer hypocrisy that they dole out to the others. Yet, time after time in my life I saw the claims of the same people countered and shattered despite the established faith that they had in themselves and their leaders. Albus Dumbledore was the prime example of their bigoted beliefs and idiocy rampant in their world. At a time, I was proud to be his protege.
Hogwarts was my home. Perhaps, it is the only place that I have associated with any comfort and some semblance of a unabused life. I gained friendships and camaraderie with the people who were like me. Despite, the yearly attempts on my life I found my life to be bounding with many different emotions than fear and ridicule; the prime emotions that ruled my life for the formative early years. I was able to live.
Then came the inevitable return of the monster that I had banished with the love of my mother few years back. I soon became a pariah to the world. I also learned that money and connection of your enemies can make your life extremely unpleasant, in the case of rampant corruption ailing the wizarding world. The ministry was hell bent on keeping me mum about the threat over the lives of the people and I stood up against it. In return, I got tortured within the very walls of this school I considered my home. I found the people responsible for looking after my well being lacking. My mind began to unhinge slowly after I was told to simply grin and bear it.
Since the day, I heard the prophecy that had dictated my whole life I have learned to keep my mouth shut and not ask questions; just the way I was trained to do by the Dursleys. I kept my head down and trusted my friends to keep me grounded. The very near brush of death of my Godfather was enough to jar my senses into high alert. The guilt that Cedric's death had wrought on me made me reluctant to let any more innocent people caught between the cross fire of the conflict between me and Voldemort. I began to train harder pushing my body and magic relentlessly towards a single goal in my life; I wanted freedom. A simple life away from the war and away the spotlight of being the wizarding world's hero. I was done being used by each and everyone one of them. I accepted the cold hard truth for what it was. If I was destined to be the one to kill Tom Riddle, then I would do it as quickly as humanely possible.
There were times when I wished that I was just a normal wizard or a muggle away from the fight and able to live my life freely. Late into warm nights of May, I often found myself staring at the stars from the astronomy tower, wondering exactly what planets had aligned when I was born to wreck such a misfortune over my life. It was on one such night that Draco Malfoy found me staring at the sky. Sharp words were exchanged and I started to frequent another haunt.
I pushed and pushed myself forgetting the rest of the things the world had to offer, so that I may live again. I trained, learning new spells, hexes, jinks and curses under a variety of the trainers, all of whom were hell bent over filling me upto the neck with the magical knowledge, combat skills, Stealth skills and magic's they knew and consistently discovered curtsy of Hermione and a number of other dedicated researcher's Hogwarts could spare.
The day was June 24 2006, when the I was called into the emergency counter attack. Snape has reported that Voldemort was mounting an attack against the ministry. The attack came in the early morning while I was at breakfast. A partonus message came bounding in the great hall informing everyone of the attack. We listened to breathless message.
"Attack … ministry……… Voldemort." It took me three seconds to swing into motion along with the other Order members.
A quick sprint in to the outside and we went apparating in the ministry, breaking through the wards. The ministry was being overrun with the Voldemort's forces. Leaving the others to their assigned roles I went haring to my job. I sought the dark wizard that had tormented me throughout my life. We came face to face in the ministry atrium, the same place where we had a fight nearly a year ago. However in these times I was prepared.
I had often wondered about the day when the final showdown with my arch nemesis would come. I morbidly wondered about the outcome of our conflict; the questions whether I would live or die were the biggest. Still when the day came upon me it was nothing extraordinary. Fine, I was charged with adrenaline coursing through my system but I wasn't the best dueler or the most powerful wizard of the times. The only claim to this fight I had was that a prophesy had propped me up with the power that I knew not yet. I smiled grimly. Today was going to be the end of either of our lives.
I wish I could say the battle was magnificent. It was, most of the people around me, tell me. Frankly, I don't care. My whole being was centered on the fact that I had to fight that strange but extremely dangerous snake bastard. I kept my whole attention on him and we fought. I won. I smiled insanely. I had finally become free of the bastard that was responsible for most of my miserable life. Then, I lost consciousness.
I came back into the land of the living two weeks later. The blood loss, magical exhaustion, trauma of wounds, burns, cuts and scrapes had exhausted my body and thrown me into a sort of coma. When I came around, I found the world changed. Still, it was one of the most beautiful days of my life. I was alive and the dark idiot was dead. My parents were avenged with countless others. The war was over. I ate a hearty meal before I was summoned to the Headmaster's office. I was expecting it, so I went on happily latching onto my two Godfathers. It was a beautiful time.
I wasn't free any longer. My freedom had been traded. I wanted to scream and rail just like I did, when I had found out about the prophecy; I had leveled half the office of my headmaster. Now, I felt the words freeze in my chest. I was numb. I understood war now. What could I say? I accepted what they had done. I had left my life behind. It was that day that I realized that all those around me except two knew about the trade. Was I the only one who didn't know? It certainty seemed like that. A few hours of calm questions confirmed all of my suspicions. No-one except the twins has really been my friends. The rest have all known and happily traded my independence and happiness for their little lives. Didn't I deserve the same consideration? Perhaps, I their eyes I did not. Nobody would really miss me any way. I was a convenient scapegoat. I smiled a bitter smile and pretended all was well in my world when everything came tumbling down.
Lucius seemed intent on making my wedding the fete of the year. I am past caring anything. I glass of finest fire-whisky is sufficiently able to relax me in the presence of my soon to be father in law. I choose whatever he wants me to choose, indulging him. Lucius turned after his wife was killed and in the typical Slytherin fashion he had demanded means to launch his family back into the elite society he had been banished out of. I was the price. I wasn't surprised. Why should I be? It's in the nature of the serpent to bite. It wasn't really his fault. It was those who called themselves Light who have enslaved me and used me like a commodity to trade when its use was done; I was thrown like a bone to the dogs after flesh had been stripped from a kill; used goods, reject. I was lucky to be alive but then they had already gotten a deal out of me.
My hands on the glass tighten, my knuckles turn white and my eyes flash with anger while I maintain my calm and unruffled exterior. I am almost like a Malfoy now. Lucius notices but desists from the comment and we go back to a pleasant conversation.
I am in the Black library. It has become my haven until I get married and finally be rid of my pimps. Yes, that's what they have become in my eyes now. The twins occasionally come to visit me, trying valiantly to make me laugh. It was only two of them that have seen my mask crack at times. They cheer me up with their crazy antics, regaling me with the news of their mad experiments. They have left early today. I trace my finger on the spine of Dark Arts books in this library. Nobody in the Order would touch them. I feel enticed by the 'forbidden'.
My ex-Godfathers try to force themselves in my life, tried being the operative word. There isn't much that I do which needs their interference. I ignore them and the rest of the idiots that want my favor. Afterall, I was going to be a Malfoy, a reason enough for them to attempt to curry my favor. However, I am no longer feeling generous towards these self righteous bastards. I ignore the buttering, pleasing and subtle manipulations with the famed bullheadedness of the Gryffindors. The idiots try. I ignore them and laugh inside my head. I am going senile at the age of seventeen.
Draco caught me with some of the Dark Arts books in his library. His reaction is furious. Lucius is plain amused. I shake my head at the antics of my would be husband/ keeper and throw a glance at Lucius. We share a hidden glance. I am amused too. I can feel the darkness stirring up inside me, coiling to wait until the opportune moment. I want to turn the world into what they have made me. Helpless. Alone. Unloved. Trapped.
The wedding was beautiful, they say. I mentally give them a finger. I have won this freedom for them and they have sold mine; their live are mine and I shall have it. They would rue the day they betrayed me. I smile in anticipation. Soon. Draco stiffens by my side, as if he could sense it. I do not doubt it; after all he is a Black, the dark lot the whole of them except my backstabbing godfather, by blood. He can sense the darkness too. I wait. Soon.