Chapter 1 : Prologue
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It would have been love at first sight, except the whole bit about me blowing off his right arm.
Madam Pomfrey managed to piece it back on to my greatest disappointment, but she never found his left pinky finger.
I got detention and a good long talk from the headmaster about the uses of hexes, and then there was some nice small chatting along the lines of— ‘where did you learn that spell as a mere first year?’
Cue howler sent home to parents.
But I knew then as I know now they were proud—after all, he was a mudblood—and I was never further reprimanded for the incident involving the not-so-tragic loss of Tom Riddle’s right arm. Matter of fact, as soon as classes began I practically forgot about it and moved on to violence involving other peers. But I still glance down in the fourth-corridor hall, paranoid of someday stepping on that missing pinky.
I didn’t know then, of course, who the skinny mudblood was, or that he would become my best friend. Tom Riddle became tall, became powerful, and became head boy alongside me.
But on his first year he was new to the wizarding world. Magic, after all, was something I’d grown up with. It was a tool to make me better and stronger. Tom saw it as a gift, a privilege. He attacked it with curiosity and passion.
I am a Slytherin, through and through, from my blood to my mind. Translation: I get my way. Men use violence towards their enemies; just pull out a cruciatus and let them writhe for a bit.
That’s terrible. Don’t they know—it’s fear that hurts the most. It’s our minds that become our enemy, if manipulated and twisted a bit.
I play with people like clay. They are weak and they deserve it. Come to think of it, I really don’t have any regrets. I am a deliberate person. The imperius is my tool of choice.
My time here at Hogwarts has been well spent. And now, as I remember hovering on the eve of my seventh year, I recall I was excited.
Well, not quite excited. More like, anticipating. Anticipating the thrill of power and magic that awaited me.
Tom and I had plans after Hogwarts. They were private and they’re wonderful. He understood the scope of my dreams.
You see, someday, I wanted to be the witch whose name isn’t spoken without fear. I wanted people to part when I walk through.
Considering how much we had in common, I’m actually surprised it wasn’t love at first sight.
Good thing, though-- love is an evil little thing that squirms into your heart and changes your entire mind. Love clouds your visions. Love changes your plans.
We fought love off for six years, and it was in our seventh that love won.
It was love that, in the end, became my enemy and my downfall.
And while the normal me would be busy setting every unforgivible curse on love for screwing up my life, I know that it was me, in the end, that tipped my cards.
When life handed me lemons, I blew up half of Hogwarts and made one hell of a martini.
Okay, that's it. Please review! As I said earlier, this is an experiment for me and I'm not sure if I continue! And of course, as always, thanks for reading.
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