Memories
Stupid Boy.
I remember the first time I saw those brilliant blue eyes. I was eleven years old, waiting on Lily to say her goodbyes to her family. He stood tall, proud even, with green lined robes and a snake emblem upon his breast—he was in Slytherin. I knew who he was the moment my eyes met his vibrant hair. He was a Malfoy. Mother says if there’s anyone to aspire to be, it’s to be like the Malfoy family. I watched the head of red dance through the sea of students and followed her to an empty cart. She was upset with me—her sister was a foul being that deserved far less then the kindness she was shown in that letter.
I saw that head of platinum blonde hair make its way towards the train and board in another cart. If I were to be anything like the boy I had just saw, I wanted nothing to do with him. He was only as strong as he could throw himself—which wasn’t very far. His gaze calculated everything around him—too paranoid to make a mistake. There was a small silver P beneath his house emblem, he was a prefect. I couldn’t tell if he earned it or if his father paid for it.
The second time I met those eyes, they were void of any emotions—proving contradictory to his actions. Clapping and a tight lipped smile at the new members to the Slytherin house; I could only sit beside him and take his offered hand. I glanced across the hall to the red and gold, looking for those green eyes—my heart fluttered, she smiled at me. I was forgiven. I learned the Malfoy boy was named Lucius. What a poncy name, perhaps another rendition of Lucifer—his family was known for its dark nature.
He ridiculed me that first year—why would you permit yourself to associate with such filth? Lily was not filth. He wasn’t the only one to torment me, no those brazen Gryffindor prats had a go with me any chance they got. I slipped Malfoy a potion that year; he never looked me in the eye again. He danced around me, eventually ignoring my very existence. It wasn’t till my third year he looked me in the eye again—something I had wished to never have happened.
He cornered me in the common room one evening, not too long till he graduated, going on to do whatever it is the Malfoy’s did for a living. He pinned me to the wall, his blue eyes gazing into my own—I was afraid of him though I dared not to show. He told me of a Dark Lord that night. Told me how he was a man who wanted to make the world a better place for the lot of us—McNair became his predecessor. He too, tried to convince me to give in to the greatness of the Dark Lord they freely—yet silently—worshiped.
The thirty-third time I met those blue eyes of his, I was a newly branded Death Eater. I had never felt so ashamed in my life—well, up till that point. I knew those eyes, even if they were hidden beneath a mask. He could never hide that ridiculous smirk either. Lily had deserted me, given in to the whims of that Potter boy—I had nothing left if she didn’t want my heart. I gave in to the Dark Lord, following his every order, doing whatever it was he asked of me. One day changed all of that though.
I met two sets of blue eyes that day—smiles present. I was handed a small bundle in a white blanket. I stared at the small face, a face that looked so much like his father’s. As his eyes opened I was met with gray—I knew he would be different from the blue eyed man that sired him. I watched as he grew in his first year, each day growing more and more to look like his father. The things I’ve done, I only hope the boy before me will never have to experience.
Months later word reached me that Lily had a son—with Potter. She had always wanted to be a mother, healer was her close second. Weeks before those two boys’ first Halloween, I heard word of a prophecy that would bring about the destruction of the Dark Lord. I’d heard seventh month and immediately thought of Lily. The Dark Lord wanted her family annihilated. I asked the Dark Lord to spare the woman—I was permitted her so long as she did nothing rash.
I felt so dirty—so ashamed as my eyes refused to meet the twinkling blue ones of Albus Dumbledore. I asked he do something to spare Lily—only her. Potter could do well on his own and her son—Albus was correct, I was disgusting. As I glanced up at the night sky that Halloween night, my mark simply burned and then it was numb once again. The Dark Lord had fallen by the means of a mere one year old boy. A boy I wouldn’t see till his first year of Hogwarts.
The one-hundredth time I met the blue eyes of Lucius Malfoy, it was the night before his son’s first year of Hogwarts. Those blue eyes burned with concern and the desire that I keep a watchful eye on the gray eyed boy. I nodded my consent. I had watched the boy that looks remarkably so like his father grow; he was his mother’s son—nothing like the blue eyed man before me. I could only nod my consent. He told me before I left, the Dark Lord would return.
I watched curiously—only on the inside—as the group of first years were brought forth for their sorting. I spotted the Malfoy boy with ease, as well as another red head—a Weasley. No doubt to end up in Gryffindor with the rest of his family. Draco would be a Slytherin, the boy was far too selfish to be anywhere else. I heard Potter and my attention snapped to the short boy with unruly black hair. He came forward, his eyes glancing up to the staff table—his eyes, he had his mother’s eyes.
The hall was silent as every occupant awaited the destination of the Boy-Who-Lived. Gryffindor—like his parents; my thoughts turned to his father. If I could hate him, I could forget he has Lily’s eyes. For years that boy got under my skin. He knew nothing of the world that worshiped him—something I never let him live down. I was hard on him because I could not give in to the warm feeling each time his eyes met my own—even if in extreme defense—for they were her’s.
His years proved eventful and year after year he proved to me he was his mother’s son—not so much his father’s. I learned he had to live with Lily’s horrible muggle sister—Petunia hated all things magical. I knew the boy with green eyes was loathed in his home—one of two things I’d ever have in common with the boy. The moment my mark burned his fourth year, I knew Lucius was correct—the Dark Lord had returned. I had never been more ready.
I did what was asked of me by the man whom I was loyal to. I hated—yet again—the things I had to do. I regretted everything and I believe that is the only reason my soul feels nothing other then sorrow. It isn’t torn to pieces from my heinous crimes. The first time I met those red eyes—in years—I was prepared. I was praised for my work well done, for my ability to remain so strong. I was not permitted to be weak—one flaw and I was dead.
I hated my very existence that night atop the tower. Those twinkling blue eyes showing nothing but shame to me as he spoke those two words—Severus, please. He was begging and he knew I hated it. He knew the gray eyed boy beside me was still the same selfish brat he had been on his first day, only now he was terrified. As the flash of green met his body and as he toppled over the edge, I felt my mind slip only for a second. I had a plan to fulfill—orders to obey.
I could only nod to the man who stood before me—merely passing on a message. His blue eyes full of fright and concern—he feared the whereabouts of his son. I moved to walk by him and his hand reached out for my arm—my black eyes meeting his blue. They hadn’t changed since the first time I saw them. His concern switched to me—I merely waved him off. Walking away from him, I knew I was never going to see him again.
I arrived to my requested location and I knew before I met those red eyes what was to come. I knew I was walking to my end—one I welcomed far too easily for my own good. Then again, there was nothing good within me. I glanced up to the black eyes of the snake the Dark Lord kept at his side—she was content. I saw him hold up a wand I knew so well. I could only stare once more up to the snake as he told me the tale of how he acquired the wand.
I watched as her black eyes came to life, she was merely staring down at me—mocking me. Her eyes glanced over to her red eyed master. I could only watch in horror as I heard him speak in a language she understood. She was moving closer and closer and this time, the look in her eyes showed nothing but pure instinct. She was above me, circling around my head and shoulders and without warning, struck—a fatal bite. I heard movement and then she and the Dark Lord were gone.
My hands reached for my neck, instinct kicking in to try to save myself—it was futile. I felt a body land beside my own and I met green eyes. Green eyes that brought back so many memories, green eyes that showed fear and concern for me—green eyes that were so much like hers. I glanced above me once more, realizing the unruly mop of black hair—I knew what I could do. Take it—I let him have the memories that came flooding back.
I watched in morbid fascination as my memories were stored in a vile and placed in a pocket. I started to feel cold—I knew my end was near—before everything started to fade I told the green eyed boy above me to look at me. He did. My eyes met his vibrant green ones, his mother’s eyes, Lily’s eyes. As the green eyes before me faded from my sight, I let myself go. On the other side I was met by two vibrant green eyes—teary eyes—but this time, they belonged to her. As her arms encircled me, she muttered thank you.
I saw that head of platinum blonde hair make its way towards the train and board in another cart. If I were to be anything like the boy I had just saw, I wanted nothing to do with him. He was only as strong as he could throw himself—which wasn’t very far. His gaze calculated everything around him—too paranoid to make a mistake. There was a small silver P beneath his house emblem, he was a prefect. I couldn’t tell if he earned it or if his father paid for it.
The second time I met those eyes, they were void of any emotions—proving contradictory to his actions. Clapping and a tight lipped smile at the new members to the Slytherin house; I could only sit beside him and take his offered hand. I glanced across the hall to the red and gold, looking for those green eyes—my heart fluttered, she smiled at me. I was forgiven. I learned the Malfoy boy was named Lucius. What a poncy name, perhaps another rendition of Lucifer—his family was known for its dark nature.
He ridiculed me that first year—why would you permit yourself to associate with such filth? Lily was not filth. He wasn’t the only one to torment me, no those brazen Gryffindor prats had a go with me any chance they got. I slipped Malfoy a potion that year; he never looked me in the eye again. He danced around me, eventually ignoring my very existence. It wasn’t till my third year he looked me in the eye again—something I had wished to never have happened.
He cornered me in the common room one evening, not too long till he graduated, going on to do whatever it is the Malfoy’s did for a living. He pinned me to the wall, his blue eyes gazing into my own—I was afraid of him though I dared not to show. He told me of a Dark Lord that night. Told me how he was a man who wanted to make the world a better place for the lot of us—McNair became his predecessor. He too, tried to convince me to give in to the greatness of the Dark Lord they freely—yet silently—worshiped.
The thirty-third time I met those blue eyes of his, I was a newly branded Death Eater. I had never felt so ashamed in my life—well, up till that point. I knew those eyes, even if they were hidden beneath a mask. He could never hide that ridiculous smirk either. Lily had deserted me, given in to the whims of that Potter boy—I had nothing left if she didn’t want my heart. I gave in to the Dark Lord, following his every order, doing whatever it was he asked of me. One day changed all of that though.
I met two sets of blue eyes that day—smiles present. I was handed a small bundle in a white blanket. I stared at the small face, a face that looked so much like his father’s. As his eyes opened I was met with gray—I knew he would be different from the blue eyed man that sired him. I watched as he grew in his first year, each day growing more and more to look like his father. The things I’ve done, I only hope the boy before me will never have to experience.
Months later word reached me that Lily had a son—with Potter. She had always wanted to be a mother, healer was her close second. Weeks before those two boys’ first Halloween, I heard word of a prophecy that would bring about the destruction of the Dark Lord. I’d heard seventh month and immediately thought of Lily. The Dark Lord wanted her family annihilated. I asked the Dark Lord to spare the woman—I was permitted her so long as she did nothing rash.
I felt so dirty—so ashamed as my eyes refused to meet the twinkling blue ones of Albus Dumbledore. I asked he do something to spare Lily—only her. Potter could do well on his own and her son—Albus was correct, I was disgusting. As I glanced up at the night sky that Halloween night, my mark simply burned and then it was numb once again. The Dark Lord had fallen by the means of a mere one year old boy. A boy I wouldn’t see till his first year of Hogwarts.
The one-hundredth time I met the blue eyes of Lucius Malfoy, it was the night before his son’s first year of Hogwarts. Those blue eyes burned with concern and the desire that I keep a watchful eye on the gray eyed boy. I nodded my consent. I had watched the boy that looks remarkably so like his father grow; he was his mother’s son—nothing like the blue eyed man before me. I could only nod my consent. He told me before I left, the Dark Lord would return.
I watched curiously—only on the inside—as the group of first years were brought forth for their sorting. I spotted the Malfoy boy with ease, as well as another red head—a Weasley. No doubt to end up in Gryffindor with the rest of his family. Draco would be a Slytherin, the boy was far too selfish to be anywhere else. I heard Potter and my attention snapped to the short boy with unruly black hair. He came forward, his eyes glancing up to the staff table—his eyes, he had his mother’s eyes.
The hall was silent as every occupant awaited the destination of the Boy-Who-Lived. Gryffindor—like his parents; my thoughts turned to his father. If I could hate him, I could forget he has Lily’s eyes. For years that boy got under my skin. He knew nothing of the world that worshiped him—something I never let him live down. I was hard on him because I could not give in to the warm feeling each time his eyes met my own—even if in extreme defense—for they were her’s.
His years proved eventful and year after year he proved to me he was his mother’s son—not so much his father’s. I learned he had to live with Lily’s horrible muggle sister—Petunia hated all things magical. I knew the boy with green eyes was loathed in his home—one of two things I’d ever have in common with the boy. The moment my mark burned his fourth year, I knew Lucius was correct—the Dark Lord had returned. I had never been more ready.
I did what was asked of me by the man whom I was loyal to. I hated—yet again—the things I had to do. I regretted everything and I believe that is the only reason my soul feels nothing other then sorrow. It isn’t torn to pieces from my heinous crimes. The first time I met those red eyes—in years—I was prepared. I was praised for my work well done, for my ability to remain so strong. I was not permitted to be weak—one flaw and I was dead.
I hated my very existence that night atop the tower. Those twinkling blue eyes showing nothing but shame to me as he spoke those two words—Severus, please. He was begging and he knew I hated it. He knew the gray eyed boy beside me was still the same selfish brat he had been on his first day, only now he was terrified. As the flash of green met his body and as he toppled over the edge, I felt my mind slip only for a second. I had a plan to fulfill—orders to obey.
I could only nod to the man who stood before me—merely passing on a message. His blue eyes full of fright and concern—he feared the whereabouts of his son. I moved to walk by him and his hand reached out for my arm—my black eyes meeting his blue. They hadn’t changed since the first time I saw them. His concern switched to me—I merely waved him off. Walking away from him, I knew I was never going to see him again.
I arrived to my requested location and I knew before I met those red eyes what was to come. I knew I was walking to my end—one I welcomed far too easily for my own good. Then again, there was nothing good within me. I glanced up to the black eyes of the snake the Dark Lord kept at his side—she was content. I saw him hold up a wand I knew so well. I could only stare once more up to the snake as he told me the tale of how he acquired the wand.
I watched as her black eyes came to life, she was merely staring down at me—mocking me. Her eyes glanced over to her red eyed master. I could only watch in horror as I heard him speak in a language she understood. She was moving closer and closer and this time, the look in her eyes showed nothing but pure instinct. She was above me, circling around my head and shoulders and without warning, struck—a fatal bite. I heard movement and then she and the Dark Lord were gone.
My hands reached for my neck, instinct kicking in to try to save myself—it was futile. I felt a body land beside my own and I met green eyes. Green eyes that brought back so many memories, green eyes that showed fear and concern for me—green eyes that were so much like hers. I glanced above me once more, realizing the unruly mop of black hair—I knew what I could do. Take it—I let him have the memories that came flooding back.
I watched in morbid fascination as my memories were stored in a vile and placed in a pocket. I started to feel cold—I knew my end was near—before everything started to fade I told the green eyed boy above me to look at me. He did. My eyes met his vibrant green ones, his mother’s eyes, Lily’s eyes. As the green eyes before me faded from my sight, I let myself go. On the other side I was met by two vibrant green eyes—teary eyes—but this time, they belonged to her. As her arms encircled me, she muttered thank you.