Raised as an orphan, Nel Saintday, endured years of torture from the Slytherin House. The Dark Lord only allowed her existence for her to serve a very specific vile purpose for him. Her birthright dictates for her to choose a side in the Wizarding W...
AN: Very important note. I did not expect this story to be so dark when I first started it. So here are some warnings in case you are trigger sensitive. Skip if you don't care or want spoilers.
*TRIGGER WARNINGS*
- Depression
- Mentions of suicide
- Death
- Some Gore
- Violence
Alright, you may proceed...
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The dull oatmeal might as well have been sawmill dust. It was just one of those days that felt duller than the last. Lately for Nel it had kind of been like that. She shot a woeful look at the empty seats across from her where Tracey would usually be joking around and Daphne talking about her latest work of art. Letting out an exhausted sigh, she turned her attention to The Daily Prophet which was next to her breakfast. She didn't care much for the articles but attempted to keep her mind busy from the fact both her best friends weren't speaking to her and the horrible holiday she would have to spend with her cruel guardian, Cloelia Lestrange, and her psychotic adoptive brother.
"This has to stop," A voice interrupted. Nel looked up to see Theodore quickly sit in front of her. He looked over his shoulder making sure his girlfriend wasn't around to witness him threading with the 'enemy.' "Nel, this is absurd, just apologize for whatever you did and make up with Daphne and Trace. I can't be looking over my shoulder like this every time I talk to you."
For somebody who knew a lot about everything, Theodore didn't know much about people.
"You know Daphne is upset because of what you did and well, I think Tracey is just hurt," He expanded.
Her dark eyes fixed on him with no expression. Theo was acting worse than the girls. He was acting like a two-faced bitch. Sneaking around when interacting with the orphan girl so he wouldn't upset Daphne. Nel didn't know what was worse his cowardness or his willingness to do anything for his girlfriend. She secretly prayed never to be that pathetically whipped.
It was then that the rest of the Slytherin's arrived and Theodore scampered away to take a seat with them. To make matter's worse Pansy's loud laughter and cheerier attitude at the new company she kept was the cherry on top. Part of the reason she didn't want to speak to them was – yes, because of the whole telling Dumbledore her story, but the other half of it...
The Dark Lord wanted to kill her. He had placed a bounty on her head. The Lestranges knew it, so did Mr. Malfoy, she eyed her friends from a distance. This time her gaze shifting into a suspicious one. Just how much did they really know? How much had they overheard during dinners with their families? Eyes moving across the room she looked at the Headmaster who seemed distracted in a hearty conversation. Dumbledore's façade of being a kind, sweet, twinkly eyed, old man became more corrupt as time passed by and she saw the ugliness in him. He definitely knew. There was absolutely no way he didn't.
