People think of me as unfeeling and cold. They think I don't know what heartache feels like, they think me shallow and unthinking, just a puppet to my Lord, a Death Eater that kills without mercy, who hunts and hurts people for pleasure and fun...and I do, I do these things, what does that make me? Evil?
And yet, I do feel, I do care, I love and I hurt and my heartaches and I cry when im alone. I hate being alone.
I care not for the scum that's below me, I care not for the Muggles or the Mudbloods that I love to hear scream at the end of my wand.
But I care for the ones I love, and my love for them burns so brightly it threatens to overwhelm me. My sister, I adore her, worship her, love her more than anyone in the world, and yet, you still call me cold and unfeeling. I would die for her, lay down my own life for her, I'd go back to Azkaban for her...Am I still a ruthless Death Eater in your eyes? Or do you now see the woman, behind the uniform.