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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.


He sat in the corner of the room, dark shadows cast upon his face. Cold marble walls surrounding, suffocating. He was waiting for him. He always came at this time, tormenting him, slowly killing him from the inside out.

He could still remember the first time that he had come . . .

'The door banged open, the little boy looked up, eyes still full of innocence which would slowly fade.

"Daddy?" The man merely smirked a look in his eyes which was lost on the boy. He raised the cane, waving it as if testing something. He stepped forward silently coming towards the boy.

"Hello son." He said, stopping four feet away from his son.

"Get up." The boy slowly stood, confusion clearly showing on his face. The man raised his cain. He started circling him.

"I am going to ask you questions, if you get them right, you will be fine. If you do not . . . " The silence echoed around the room.

"Now, what are people who are not made of pure blood called?" The boy seemed to be in thought for a moment before replying,

"Muggle-borns." The cane came down with lightning fast speed, landing on his back. He cried out in agony as the man laughed coldly.

"Wrong. They are Mudbloods and always will be Mudbloods."

"Now," he questioned sharply, " what are Mudbloods? The boy, still on the ground having fallen over when the cane had struck, stood,

"People." He stated timidly. It hit his chest this time.

"No. You will have to learn son that purebloods are the only type of people that could be considered people. Mudbloods are dirt." He spat as if tasting something bad. "Our kind were not meant to mix with muggles. When you go to school you will see there inferiority. You will be like you father one day." He stated proudly.

The boy looked up at his father, out of breath, terror in his eyes. "What are you daddy?" The man gazed down at his child, carefully concealed madness in his eyes.

"I am a Death Eater. I help scour the scum from this earth. I follow the greatest wizard ever to be born, you will follow him after school.

In ignorance the boy asked, "What if I don't want to dady?" It was a cutting charm this time. Next was the cain.'

It had gone on like that since he was five. His father hadn't started using Cruicios until he was eight and he had believed him, until Hogwarts that is. Oh, his father still beat him everynight, long after he had given in. He had met a girl in school, top of every class, said to be the smartest to come through the halls since Tom Riddle. He had assumed that she had been a pureblood.

When he discovered that she was not he was shocked. Refraining from calling her a Mudblood got him a worse beating each night. His father came to Hogwarts and took him into a room, he hadn't started using the cane again until he heard of the girl. The cain was always worse, it left bruises, scars both mentally and physically.

In his second year he said it for the first time, hating every minute of it. Once he started taunting, the beatings were less, but frequent. It had gone on for years till his fifth. He was about to commit suicide when she walked into the bathroom. Imagine my suprise when she took the knife out of my hand and set it down on the counter then rolled up her sleeve, showing at least twenty scars along her forarm. She stated "It doesn't make it better." It was then that I told her about my life and she told me hers. Her father beat her too, her mother standing on watching. She maintained her perfect facade.

She was my first real friend and my last. She had taught me about life, but she also said that you don't have to be alive to live. It had confused me then but I understood now.

Three weeks ago my father had found out. He had kidnapped her, repeatedly beating and torturing her. When he finally let her escape she found her family killed. That was how I found her, on the tiled floor slowly bleeding from her wrists. I had tried to save her, to stem the bleeding. That was until she said

"Let me be free." It was then that I understood what she had said in fifth year. She died in my arms.

I couldn't let them find me, so I stood and left her there. That had been two weeks ago.

I heard the sound of footsteps and the slam of a door.

Looking up I stood, facing my fear. The man sneered.

"Hello son." Just as he had said all those years ago. I raised my wand, grabbing his as it flew to me.

"Avada Kadava." In a flash of green he fell. Setting down the wands I pulled out a letter, detailing my life and hers, telling why we did what we did.

I grabbed the knife which had killed her sliting my wrists. As I lay down I could see her coming towards me, smiling. Her beauty radiating around her as it had during our talks. She held out her hand, which I took. We walked away together, truly living for the first time


Review please. I wrote this after watching Braveheart. For those of you who haven't seen it, watch it and you will get the ending. If you haven't got it already, it was Draco and Hermione.

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