Blood Before Truth (EDITED)

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The next day, I decided to talk about my dream to the one person I feared that my dream was warning me of, James. I was scared that my conscious was right, that he had turned his loyalty to Voldemort, a man who had pledged to kill all Muggle Borns and Muggles alike. He didn't believe in mercy or anything to do with kindness. James was betraying us all. Against our father, our mother, what would they think?

Approaching the Gryffindor table, I noticed his back and ventured toward him cautiously, I tapped him on the shoulder and he jumped, turning, his eyes flashed red as he saw me. It scared me for a moment, but as I opened my eyes and looked into his own glassy eyes, they were his normal shade of brown, with a few green and blue flecks scattered through the retinas, as if the flashes of colour were merely in my imagination. Maybe I was wrong, all this worrying, it was messing with my mind. Shaking my head, I began to question him... Innocent until proven guilty, but I still had to be careful, I didn't know whether I could trust my James anymore.

"Would you ever join Voldemort?" I jumped right into the questioning, no niceties, no small talk, this was a matter of life and death, and I had to make sure he wasn't going to hurt anyone.

He flinched at the name, but shook his head, avoiding eye contact as he denied his affiliation with the man. That couldn't be true, James always looked me in the eyes when he was telling the truth. He was lying, I knew it.

"Why did I see you with him then?" I asked.

"When did you..." James looked confused, staring at me as if I'd gone slightly crazy.

"No," I interrupted,"why?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm my father's son, Lily. What's going on?" He insisted.

"Nothing's wrong. I just don't believe you." I snapped.

I stormed off, I was sure it wasn't my imagination, his eyes were turning red, and then I realised, his skin, it was loosing all of its usual flush and colour, he was so pale. Even more paler than if it were from stress, it was unnatural, as if he were turning into Voldemort himself. I remembered my father describing Voldemort's terrifying features, and I imagined James' face morphing into such a mask. My brother was becoming Voldemort.


I breathed a strangled sigh, I hoped she hadn't noticed. Glancing down, I nearly choked, my left sleeve was rolled up to my elbow, praying she hadn't seen the mark, a skull with a snake protruding from it's mouth, tying itself in a knot. I would rather the whole world find out, rather than Lily. She'd always looked up to me, like some kind of hero, but right now, she wasn't ready to accept that our parents chose the wrong side. Pulling down my sleeve, I glanced around, for now, no one could know.

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