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Delinquency by TheCarrowChild
Chapter 2 : Living a Lie
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1


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I can feel the blood pumping in and out of my heart as my pulse races at the sight of him. I could tell he clearly was working for the Ministry by the smart business attire he had on. As I approach him I shakily grab the keys from my bag and will myself to get a grip before he notices, he’d always enjoyed the way he could make me jumpy and make my pulse race. Thinking back on it, maybe he knew how I felt about him but just never acknowledged it, choosing instead to pretend like it was just a shag for the both of us. 


 

 

“Where’s Potter?” I ask calmer than I felt inside, I’d always been good at covering up how I felt on the inside and became stone on the outside. A defense mechanism necessary with Antonin Dolohov as your father and Voldemort breathing down your neck. Sliding the key in the lock I’m let into my flat and throw my bag on the nearest armchair. As I rummage through my mail I make sure to not look at him choosing to instead focus on the bills in my hands.


 

 

“You’re done seeing Potter, this is your final interview. You’re due for release and I’m here for the next two weeks to make sure you’re ready to enter the wizarding world again. It’s been three years since we put you under Ministry protection and in those three years you’ve had no access to magic, I’m here to make sure you can handle the world we’re going to through you back into.” He says flatly and I can feel his eyes on me as I hear him set down his briefcase and hear the clack of his expensive shoes.


 

 

My mind reels, ‘Ministry protection’? I was a criminal, I’d taken part in Voldemort’s cause…I’d killed people whether or not it was willingly I’d done it. I’d been found guilty…I was there for my trial…although not for the sentencing, Potter had met me outside afterwards and taken me here to this very flat. “What do you mean ‘Ministry protection’?” I say angrily, glaring up at him as I throw my bills haphazardly on the table behind me. 


 

 

“Potter never told you what happened after your trial? Alyona you weren’t found guilty of anything only of being used and manipulating by Lord Voldemort. No one’s held you accountable for anything, we just knew that you weren’t mentally ready to cope with what the wizarding world had become and how you’d be treated by all the witches and wizards in that world. You weren’t even barely a human at the point when you were on trial. Anyone with half a brain could see what the war had done to you, what he’d done to you, I’ve never seen eyes as vacant as yours were that day. Do you even remember talking to me before you went in?” Gently he places his hand under my chin and studies my face boring his eyes and seeing my soul, which I wasn’t comfortable with.


 

 

Violently taking my chin from his hand and bumping into his shoulder roughly I head to my room where I’d kept a box of things about my trial and my father’s but I’d never looked at them, Potter had collected them for me and told me that when I was ready I should look at it and read the articles. I find the one about my trial and read the words ‘Found innocent and manipulated by the Dark Arts, Alyona Dolohov walks a free woman, Good News from a dark place.’ Suddenly I feel like I’m suffocating, I’d been swimming in guilt for three years, I’d never coped with what had happened merely hoped I’d never be allowed in the Wizarding World again for everyone’s sake including my own. Filled with a new sense of vigor I head back into my living room to find Draco lazily petting my pure white kitten Milo. Glaring at the kitten I toss the newspaper at Draco.


 

 

“I’m not ready to go back. I don’t want to go back, I was never planning on going back. I’m responsible for two people dying Malfoy! I’m responsible for my own mother’s death! Do you even know what her last words to me were!? She told me “it’s okay.” Just that, as if I’d just scraped my knee but no she was telling me it was okay to say No to Voldemort, to let him kill her because by that point she was so ragged from the constant crucios that she didn’t even have any fight in her left. I mercy killed my mother telling Voldemort I wouldn’t kill my brother. He wanted me to kill Alec because he’d refused to join and had fled. So I had to choose, between my brother and my mother, only it was never a choice because my mother had died long before that day and I’d had to watch it, each and every time they tortured her I was summoned as a reminder to what it was they had over me. And you won’t find a single word of that in my testimony or in my file because I couldn’t even say those words to anyone after what I’d done.” Finishing I could feel my cheeks wet with tears that had been aching to come out for three years. I’d never cried over what had happened, I wasn’t allowed to. Dolohov’s don’t have feelings, Dolohov’s don’t cry because crying is a weakness and Dolohov’s aren’t weak. Grabbing my keys I leave my apartment before he even speaks, the look of shock on his handsome face is enough for me, I don’t do share your feelings time and I wasn’t about to start now. 


 

 

I ran from my apartment and headed to the park ignoring the pouring rain, thankful for it would hide the fact that I was crying uncontrollably on a park bench all alone. I enjoyed being alone, it gave me time to think and put my walls back up and right now that was what I needed. I don’t even know why I would tell him that, I’d never told anyone that, not even Potter whom I considered a friend, my one and only friend which was something to me, I’d told him everything else…but why had I never told him that and instead chose to tell Draco sodding Malfoy. I lost track of how long I’d been sitting on that park bench but it had grown dark and as far as I was concerned I wasn’t going back to that apartment, I was going to make a run for it but I wasn’t sure where to go. You see I was sent to America, and I had very little knowledge of where I was in the grand scheme of things and had no idea where to go to escape. The problems of Alyona Dolohov seemed to be getting worse as the days went on.


 

 



 


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