Status: Completed

Forbidden and Mistaken

Im A Monster

I stayed up all night thinking about him. Yes, it was really too much. But I think I understood why he was upset, I mean, if he had gotten to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin then I would be the same way. But I knew in my heart that the choice had been made. Finally my dreams took me over. They engulfed me in a cloud. The cloud turned grey...black now...storms...rain...

When my sister, Catherine had been made a Gryffindor, our parents were angry, but they expected it. They disowned her when she had told them that she was going to set up a joke shop with the Weasley twins, then sent her to America for the summer. Catherine didn't care though, she liked travelling, and hated our parents anyway. Dakota was different. He worked for the Ministry, but had pledged himself to the Dark Lord. But me...well, I was different. My parents were mad of course, furious even. But most of all, they were surprised. How could their sweet, innocent girl be made a Gryffindor like her disappointment of a sister?

"Gryffindor! Gryffindor? That house is full of Blood Traitors, Mudbloods, and filthy half bloods!" My father bellowed.

"We had wanted you to be in Slytherin, dear..." My mother's face fell.

"But mother, I-"

"How could you disgrace your ancestors! The houses of Allen and Black are disappointed in you! You want to end up like your failure of a sister?"

"Father! It wasn't my choice! The Sorting Hat-"

"The Sorting Hat gave me a choice, Eliza. Don't give me that rubbish."

"It insisted-"

"And do you think that I care what it insists? It was always expected of your sister, and now...she is no longer in one of us. You, have always had a bright mind, and you were always interested in the Dark Arts. We encouraged you, we helped you. We knew that you would continue the line of Slytherins in our family." My father told me.

"Look. Maybe this is a good thing...I'-I'll spy on Potter. I want to. I'll spy on him for the Dark Lord."

"This is not a good thing! You are eleven years old, Eliza." My mother insisted.

"I'm old enough to make my own choices, mother."

"The Dark Lord will make his choice on the night that you turn of age. Until then, you are of no use to him."

"I want to father. I'll make my mark in the histories of Allen and Black. I'll make the Pure-blood families proud. I won't let this opprotunity go to waste. Potter will deserve what he gets. I'll make sure of it. He'll pay for destroying the future of the Wizard world."

"Fine. You are pardoned." He dismissed me.

My mothers sobs were heard all throughout the Allen mansion.

"No! You can't let her do this for the Dark Lord, he is too dangerous! Lawrence! She's eleven!

I awoke, gasping for air. Gasping for my life. What was that? That wasn't a dream...no, it was too familiar. It was a memory. A memory that I was very familiar with. I was a traitor. I was going to have to betray my best friend. Harry Potter. Why did everyone care so much about Harry Potter? Yes, I had known about Barty Crouch Jr. impersonating Alastor Moody during the Tri-Wizard Cup. Yes, I had known that Sirius was Harry's godfather before Third Year. I had known about Tom Riddle's Diary and the Basilisk. I had known everything. And I hadn't helped Harry when he needed to know those facts. I was a monster, and that dream was haunting me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I put on my robes, and headed downstairs to eat breakfast in the Great Hall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were waiting for me, as always. It killed me to look at their faces now. Why had I agreed to lie, cheat, and deceive my friends? Because I had wanted to. At the time, I wasn't thinking. "Yes" I thought, for I was very interested in joining the Death Eaters. But I was only eleven. I didn't know any better! And my seventeenth birthday was just in February. Then...I would become, I would join the Dark Lord. But now...Now, I had learned to actually like my friends for who they are, not for what my parents wanted me to think of them. "The weasel has got no money, he's a Blood Traitor. Then there's his little girlfriend, the Mudblood. The Dark Lord needs Harry Potter, and I need you to retrieve the facts for me." My father said. Yes, Weasley was poor, but not in his heart. Hermione- she was the smartest witch I knew despite being muggle-born. And Harry was NOT like his father. He was kind, caring, and would die for any one of us.

"You don't look too well." Hermione informed me.

"I don't feel too well, Hermione." I told her.

Harry looked at me with his sparkling green eyes.

I am a monster.

"Eat some food, that always makes me feel better." Ron laughed. His cute freckles and matted, ginger hair.

Yes, I was definitely a monster.

"Here's some pumpkin juice." Harry handed me his cup.

Stop looking at me!

"Thanks." I replied.

"Well, Professor Binn's essay is due today, and...oh, look! Double D.A.D.A..." Hermione informed me while looking at our timetable.

You're my best friends. Why did I have to agree to this? In two and a half months I'll betray you. Go away! Treat me like Malfoy!

"I know. Well, I think we're doing the Cruciatus Curse today..." I said.

"Yeah, and he wants a three page essay on it..." Ron groaned.

And he was right.

"Today we will be learning about the Cruciatus Curse. The Cruciatus Curse (also known as the Torture Curse) is one of the three Unforgivable Curses of the wizarding world. It is a curse of torture, inflicting excruciating pain on a victim. This makes it popular among the Death Eaters for use on both fellow wizards and Muggles. Considering the fact that this curse doesn't physically harm the victim, it possibly stimulates pain receptors. Cursing another human with the Cruciatus Curse carries a punishment of a life sentence inAzkaban (unless there is sufficient evidence that the caster did so under the influence of the Imperius Curse or for other defensible reasons). I will expect a three page essay on it by Friday. Failure to hand it in may end in excruciating circumstances." He explained.

Excruciating circumstances? I knew Snape was harsh, but would he use the Cruciatus Curse on a student? Nahh...he was just trying to scare us, as usual. I had already had experience with this curse, because Mad-Eye Moody (Who was actually Barty Crouch Jr.) Had taught it to us in our Fourth Year to prepare Harry for the Tri-Wizard Cup. I had started to write.

The Cruciatus Curse

By Madeleine Van Alen

November 26th, 1996.

The Cruciatus Curse is one of the three Unforgivable Curses and is used to torture the victim. It causes great pain and discomfort, and can lead to insanity. It was invented during the middle ages by Dark witches who were about to be burned at the stake. They poured out their pain into creating the curse. It was not named "unforgivable" until 1717. During the First Wizarding War, when Barty Crouch Sr. was in charge of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he fought violence with violence, and legalised the three Unforgivable Curses for Aurors against theDeath Eaters in order to win the war. This was repealed once the war was over, as it was no longer necessary. However, in the 1994–1995 school year, Barty Crouch Jr. under the disguise of Alastor Moody, showed these three curses to his Fourth Year classes on spiders despite the Ministry's disapproval. To successfully perform this curse, the wizard or witch must possess a deep desire to cause the victim pain. For example, despite being furious with my cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange for her murder of his godfather in 1996, Harry Potter was only able to cause her a brief moment of pain with the Cruciatus Curse because he used it in "righteous anger."

My essay had been finished first, even before Hermione. I handed it to Snape, before feeling terrible for the mention of Harry's name. I knew for sure that my essay had deserved an 'O' or at least an 'E'. Snape's face changed from the usual expression of dismay, to a surprised face. A face of confusion.

"This is quite questioning work, Allen." He sneered.

"It's what I know about it, Sir." I smiled.

He handed it back with a giant 'A' on it. Acceptable! What?

"Sir..."

"What, Miss Allen? Your essay is based on your experience. Not the facts that I want. They're lies."

"No, they're not! You know-"

"Silence!" He shouted before my big mouth could reveal that he knew the same things that I did.