Damned by Deceit

It was all falling a part. Right in front of her, in her shaky hands. Her eyes held no emotion, masking her true horror. Her arm was branded, no longer pure and unscathed. She was now going to be looked at like everyone else in the room: evil. A murderer. Swallowing nothing but an imaginary lump, her tongue completely dry, she finally looked away from the black mark on her forearm. Brown eyes met red, her mind was invaded for the fourth time that night -she could feel the tug. He leered, revealing yellow, uncared for teeth. If she had anything else to throw up, she would have felt her stomach turn at the sight of it. She was his now. Unable to take her eyes off of him, she could instead feel the many eyes on her, including her father's. His gaze was the most burning. He was nothing to her now. He had fed her up as if she were nothing. Her whole childhood, turning out to be a complete lie. He didn't love her, and neither had her mother. She had just sat back and watched as her husband raised their one and only daughter as a pig for slaughter -making her think she was everything. Raising her up till this very moment.

At the age of 16, fresh out of her 6th year at Hogwarts, Pureblood, a beautiful face: long dark brown hair cascading around her shoulders. Skinny -too skinny, results of malnourishment. Pale, clammy skin. Powerful with a wand. Knowing far too many spells -dark ones included. She was any desperate man's dream witch. Yet, she was nothing inside. Her heart was no longer but a beat inside of a body and her mind was nothing but an open book for the most evil man alive. Anything and everything she had ever amounted to had been ripped out from under her as if it didn't matter. What would her friends think? What would her teachers think? Or her Headmaster?

As she was finally ushered out of the room, brought through the gates of Malfoy Manor, she was seeing nothing but blur. The burning image of the Dark Mark still invading her mind and her skin was numb, but she knew her hand was being held by her father's. Vaguely, she pulled her attention to the sky -seeing the sun poking up from the far away mountains and forests- before she was apparated to a dark alley way. Finally coming to, she felt her father turn to her -speaking to her as he dropped her hand. But she didn't hear him. Her ears were deaf. He slapped her, hard across the cheek and she looked back at him with unfeeling eyes. He was handing her something, a trunk? Oh yeah, Hogwarts. Right. He turned her around, making her look down the alley way to see her mother standing in the light on the street. He had her go to her, making her follow.

The people of Kings Cross Station was full of normal muggles, all with their own -not dangerous agendas. But she barely saw them, her eyes focused in front of her as if she was on a hallucinogen. Pulled swiftly through a barrier -a brick wall- she quickly was pushed onto the train, the trunk still firmly in her hand. She felt her feet walk through the corridors and find a seat at the far end, an empty one, and locked the door and pulled down the shades. Pulling out the light, she then-and only then, busted into tears.