Fan Fiction (Novel)

FHB: Chapter 1

FHB Chapter 1

Family, honour and blood, those were the three words in his upbringing. There was an absence of compassion, acceptance and even trust when it came to his bloodline. Maybe it was a good thing, but he wouldn’t truly know would he?

Being the only child, he felt the pressure to make his parents proud.  He had no one to compete with but no one to confide in either. Nothing else but “Yes father” and “Yes mother” escaped his lips daily, and he saw no problem with that.

Proudly, his parents would often call him an ideal child; this would send his relatives glowering in jealousy as they would whisper their wishes of having him as their own. That always made him smirk, and it kept him on his best behaviour .

When he started school, he knew he would not just be some ordinary boy. He would be well known, respected and hopefully, feared. Desire for power was somehow genetic, and he was no different than his father and those before him.

The first four years in school was perfect. He had everything he needed without having to lift a finger. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself; arrogant, yes, but brilliant too. He thought he could keep this up, and when he got his yearly Hogwarts return letter, he was certain he could.

That prefect badge that he pinned onto his robes  gave him confidence in finishing the next 3 years of school on top of his game. But he was wrong. Little did he know that on his fifth year, he would be forced to face decisions that would question his upbringing and his belief.

In that same year, the Dark Lord and his quest for purity was slowly making its way into the muggle world. There were forces on both sides, constantly battling for their own rights. One did not need to doubt where the Malfoys’ alliance laid. And though it was not questionable,  there was no proof that Abraxas, a respected man in the ministry, would side with the person most people feared. Lucius however, knew very well where his father… and mother stood.

His father was more loyal than a dog, and his mother hated it. His mother supported the cause but refused to let Lucius participate. Lucius was torn between his parents as his father justified that blood and honour was the most important value. His mother would then recite those three words and emphasize that family came first. At the end of the day, who could he side?

Yes, Lucius admired and deeply feared the Dark Lord. He wanted to be part of the cause too. But was he too young? The day before his parents accompanied him to the Hogwarts Express, his father entered his room just as he locked up his trunk.

In his father’s hand was an old envelope. Gesturing to take a sit, Lucius did not have to ask as his father went straight to the reason of his bedroom visit.

“I want to tell you something very important,” his father said, as he pulled out the contents of the envelope.

It was a stack of faded pictures of when his father was still schooling. His father handed the stack to Lucius and said, “These were taken back in the days when I first joined the Dark Lord. I have always been loyal to him. Do you know what loyalty is, son?”

Lucius nodded his head, but his father still gave him his own definition, “Loyalty is obedience without question.”

Pointing at the picture on top of the stack in Lucius’ hand, his father added, “That was taken at a Christmas ball. The Dark Lord went with… a friend. A friend whose loyalty was distorted.”

Looking down at the picture, Lucius saw a girl next to the Dark Lord, with Professor Slughorn standing across them.

“I have not seen her before,” Lucius said, as he had a pretty good memory of the visitors that came to their mansion when the Dark Lord held random meetings.

“She’s dead. Died too young as a matter of fact.”

“How?”

“Like I said, she had a distorted concept of loyalty. One that had no sense of obedience, and it cost her life.”

Lucius nodded. That was all he could do as he had no words to respond to his father.

“I want you to think about this. Think about loyalty and think about where your stand. You must know that your mother is more fearful than naive and her lack of courage is not a path you would want to follow.” Pausing, his father took the pictures from his hand. “I would suggest you make up your mind before the school term starts. Why? Because you are old enough to decide.”

When his father left his room, Lucius was more confuse than before. But he resolved in his heart to decide on his stand… before the school term starts.

To Be Continued…

(Leave a comment below or vote on whose side Lucius should take. It will determine how he lives the next few years in Hogwarts!)

Fan Fiction (Shorts)

Loser

Before his father left him and his mother, he taught him a lesson. It was a lesson he never forgot and a lesson he was sure to practice.

It all started when his father started gambling and drinking. His mother was afraid of the man she married, and he was afraid of being thrown across the room every time he did something wrong. His father never really cared if he broke a leg or bled, because to his father, a little pain was a good lesson. But that wasn’t what he learned from his father.

It was during an evening game with his friends when he saw his father standing by a tree watching. His team wasn’t winning and he was sure his father knew that. When they took a break for water, his father called him over.

“Who is winning son?” his father asked, as the stale smell of alcohol escaped his breath.

“Harriet’s team,” he replied softly.

“Are you in Harriet’s team?”

“No,” he replied even softer than before.

“Then beg Harriet to take you,” his father ordered.

“But… I can’t leave my friends.”

“You what?” His father reached for his arm roughly and pulled him closer.

“I- I can’t leave my friends,” he repeated.

“But your friends are losing, do you want to lose?” The grip of his father’s hand tightened, and his dirty and untrimmed nails dug into his flesh.

“No sir,” he whimpered.

“Then make Harriet take you in his team!” his father shouted, shoving him backwards and causing him to fall on his back.

“It’s only a game,” he immediately replied in anger.

“It is not ONLY a game boy. Do you want to lose all your life? Do you want to be a loser? Do you like being a loser? Do you?!” His father had pulled him to his feet and slammed him against the tree.

From the corner of his eye, he saw his friends stopping to watch. They were whispering among themselves, not sure if they should help him. But what can three 10 year olds do to a grown man? He was certain he was on his own. And just when he was about to get hit in the face, he heard his mother scream.

“You stay away from him! Don’t you dare touch him!” she yelled as she tried to pull his father from him.

His father turned towards her and slapped her across the face. He was strong enough to send her flat on the ground, weeping.

“Don’t!” he yelled, struggling to free himself from his father’s grip.

“Don’t?” his father asked, and then he laughed, releasing his grip on him.

Immediately, he ran to his mother’s side, and tried to prop her up. Tears were streaming down her face as her lips bled.

“Why do you have to hurt her?!” The sudden anger made him bold.

“You wanna know why? Because losers deserve it.” His father spat on the ground and continued, “You mother is a loser, and so are you. I don’t want to be around losers.”

His father chuckled to himself and shook his head, before he left them. He hated his father even more then, but he knew he would have to face his father when he got home, so he sucked it up and tried to help his mother. By the time he had gotten his weak and weeping mother on the couch in their living room, he noticed something was different. His father’s shoes weren’t in the walkway, and when he headed up to his parent’s bedroom, he saw the wardrobe door wide open and the clothes on his father’s side were all gone.

When his mother entered the bedroom after him, she fell on her knees and wept even more. The picture of their family that once hung above the bed was also on the floor, with the frame shattered.

“He’s gone!” his mother wailed.

“It’s o.k, I’ll take care of you,” he immediately replied.

“You’re a boy. A boy who can’t even win a stupid children’s game. It is your fault he is gone!” his mother accused.

He knew she wouldn’t intend on hurting him, but those word stung. He was indeed a loser. How was a loser going to look after his mother? He was going to amount to nothing, and his father was right. That was why his father left, his father didn’t want to be around losers.

“No, I’m not a loser,” he said to himself.

“Mother, I’m not a loser. I’ll pick the winning team, and we’ll be alright.” He turned his mother to face him.

“No, Peter, you’re not a loser,” his mother replied, merely repeating his words without giving much thought.

“We’ll be alright, you’ll see,” Peter assured, as he embraced his mother, whose sobs continued.

True enough, Peter Pettigrew made sure that he was always on the winning team. He left the friends he used to play with for James Potter when he started at Hogwarts, and he left James Potter for the Dark Lord when a war was starting. And during all those times, his only motivation was to be a winner and not the loser his father said his was.

Fan Fiction (Shorts)

His Only Way Out

BAM! His room door slammed open.

“Mother is calling you down for tea,” his older brother said, chuckling at the decorations in his room.

“Come on, you can’t possibly be competing we me Reggie,” his brother continued.

“There’s no competition. If you can put up your Gryffindor banners, why can’t I put up my Slytherin ones?” Reggie said as he jumped onto his bed, ready to place a huge green and silver banner on the wall.

His brother simply laughed and headed to his desk. “Don’t touch my things!” Reggie said immediately.

“Relax, I just find this scrapbook interesting.”

From the corner of his eye, Reggie watched his brother flipped the book open, and the playful smile on his face immediately disappeared.

“You can’t be serious. A scrapbook on him?!”

Reggie simply shrug as he finally got the banner to stick on the wall.

“You’re like a stalker you know that,” his brother added.

“I’m not stalking. It’s all over the newspapers. I just cut em’ out so I know where he is and what he’s doing. I even showed mother and-“

“Of course you showed mother. She’s stalking him too!” his brother interrupted. And the tone of his voice was in no joking manner.

“No she’s not. She says it’s good to know as much about him as possible, if I want to be a death eater one day.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still going about that death eater thing.” His brother shook his head.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Reggie asked.

“Because he kills people Reg. What’s wrong with you?!” His brother was angry again. He was always angry whenever they spoke of the Dark Lord.

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Reggie spat as he yanked his scrapbook from under his brother’s hand.

“I’m just trying to help you understand Reg. Stop being so stupid!”

“I’m stupid? Well, if I’m stupid, then you’re dishonorable! Not only to our parents but to our entire family! If you keep this up, father will disown you.” Reggie was furious. How dare he call him stupid.

“I don’t care if I’m disowned! I don’t care if they burn my picture on our family tree!” His brother pointed at the embroidered family tree, on the wall across his room door. “I just don’t want to see my brother get hurt!”

“Don’t worry, I know how to take care of myself.” Reggie narrowed his eyes at his brother before he headed for his room door. He had enough. He didn’t want to argue with his brother who didn’t understand.

“Fine! But remember this, once you’re in, you cant get out. He’ll kill you if you try!” his brother shouted as Reggie stormed down the stairs.

Reggie was no longer in the mood for tea, but he wasn’t going to stay in the same room as his brother. What did his brother know anyway? He was a dishonor to their family, and a stupid Gryffindor on top of that.

Reggie was about to enter the living room when he heard another voice calling to him. It was not his brother’s, but it was familiar all together. Reggie stood on the spot, trying to figure out who it was. And when he did, he saw the house elf he always called friend, standing in front of him, in a blur.

“Master! Master! You must wake up!” the house elf shouted in fear, as the heads of the flesh-less inferi could be seen bobbing in the dark waters towards them.

“Kreacher,” he croaked, trying to sit up.

“Master Regulus! Let’s go!”

“What did I tell you Kreacher?!”

“But Kreacher can’t leave. Kreacher can’t leave master!” Kreacher had tears streaming from his big tennis ball like eyes, as he clutched onto the locket tightly.

“Kreacher, you must!”

“But master-“

“NO BUTS KREACHER!” Regulus took the house elf by the shoulders and shook him.

“Mas-mas-master,” Kreacher chocked as he sobbed.

“You have been a good friend Kreacher, but now, you have to be a good servant and leave. Do not let him find you and destroy that locket!” Regulus ordered.

“You have been a good friend too Master Regulus. And Kreacher will try,” Kreacher said with a firm nod. But before he left, he wrapped his arms around Regulus, and Regulus weakly returned it.

Moments later, there was a pop and he was alone. Alone on the island where he was sure he was going to die.

As the burning sensation in his chest started to rise to his throat, Regulus forced his weak body towards the edge of the man made island.

With his hands cupped, he hoped to have a last quench at thirst, but as he dipped his hands into the icy cold water, bony fingers grabbed onto his wrists and pulled him in.

Into the dark waters, he felt them wrap their skeletal bodies around him. The inferi weren’t strong, but they were many. As his vision plummeted into darkness, the last sensation of cold water down his throat was the sign of his impending death.

In was through the relief of pain that he remembered his brother’s words. He was right all along. And he should have listened. He was indeed stupid. How he wished he could turn back time and tell his eleven year old self to take heed of Sirius’ words. Now it’s too late. He was already in, and the only way out was through death.

(On life and stuff requested a story on Regulus Black, you can request yours too in the comments below!)