I am a Hufflepuff. I am hardworking. I am loyal. I am also
awaiting trial for the murder of eight Aurors, five
students and one Albus Dumbledore.
From my holding cell, I can see the accusing glares from
the Aurors. They hate me. After all, I did kill their
compatriots. Yet they cannot stop their curiosity. I am a
novelty to them. A Hufflepuff who turned. As if a quarter
of British witches and wizards somehow had an innate
capacity for only goodness.
Every day a group of new people come and ask questions.
Sometimes they feign kindness and understanding, but
mostly they stop just short of physical torture. Mostly.
There are scars on my body. None too visible scars, but
they are still there.
They expect me to be pleased and happy that I haven't
merely been thrown into Azkaban. I am supposed to feel
grateful that I am getting the privilege of a trial. Some
privilege it's going to be with the saviour of the
wizarding world presiding. It's because of him that human
guards guard me. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The
Bright Shining Light of the Wizarding World who most
unfortunately is terrified of Dementors. It was he who
removed them from Ministry holding cells and forced them
to remain at Azkaban.
But Dementors wouldn't stare like these human guards do.
They would merely leave me to my memories. Leave me in
relative peace.
All those questions. They haunt me more than a Dementor's
coldness ever would.
Do they really want to know? Or are they merely wondering
at the novelty of a Hufflepuff in Azkaban.
It is obvious to me now that my trial will be nothing. A
show put on for the unsuspecting public. For the squeamish
of the wizarding world who can still remember the strong
cruelty of Crouch Senior. After all, with Harry Potter
supervising, what could go wrong? Merely a fair trial for
a Hufflepuff.
Do they want me to put a date on it? The precise day, hour
and second?
What should I say? The date I was born? The date I began
Hogwarts? The date I received the note? The date I joined
the Death Eaters? Or merely the date I killed.
The first date is easy. I was born on the 15 th
of March 1981. But I do not think it began there.
After all, my parents were kindly folk to the eyes of the
wizarding public. A Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw.
Funny, isn't it? That I could come from a hybrid
Gryffindor-Ravenclaw family. Has been for several hundred
years.
Until me. The sole Hufflepuff among the brave and smart.
They were so disappointed.
Mother had been coaching me from birth to be in her house.
Read, she used to urge, read and the world will be yours!
Well, I tried. I really did! I was always an obedient
child and I read everything mother put in my hands. But it
obviously wasn't enough.
Father was angry that I was a girl. He didn't think that I
could be a Gryffindor. Too shy, he used to say, too quiet.
Yet, I tried to please him also. I went out hunting for
game. I tried the curses from the books that mother gave
me on the house elves. But that obviously wasn't enough
either.
The second date is also easy. After all, that was the day
Harry Potter came to Hogwarts.
Never mind that about a hundred of us other first years
were also there because the saviour of the wizarding world
was finally among us!
I remember my first glimpse of that famous face at the
station. Funny how the mind works. I must have seen him
hundreds of times since, but my mind still flicks back to
that first instance. Those famous green eyes. Terrified.
Then somebody moved in front of me.
I didn't see him again on the train, but then I didn't
really care. I can still recall the excited chatter.
Harry Potter is on this train! Did you see him? Did you
talk to him? Wow! A real hero! I was just as excited
as the rest of them. We even forgot the customary chatter
about our families and the upcoming sorting. After all, a
hero was in our midst.
At the sorting, I saw him again. This time, properly.
Tottering towards the stool, hands shaking. I remember the
tension in the hall as he put the hat on. Everybody hoped
that he would be in their house. When the hat finally
yelled Gryffindor, it was almost a relief. The house of
his parents. Typical.
It was about then that I began to be scared. What house
would I be in? My mother was a Ravenclaw, my father a
Gryffindor. I didn't want to disappoint either.
The words the hat told me still echo in my head. Or
perhaps that's just the sound of my heart in this bare
cell.
"I remember your mother, a fine Ravenclaw. And, ah! your
father was a brave Gryffindor. I see: you do not wish to
disappoint either. I'm afraid, however, that neither
Gryffindor nor Ravenclaw is suitable for you. As for
Slytherin, they couldn't accept you, though you are pure
of blood. You are very hardworking though, and have
commendable loyalty. It will have to be HUFFLEPUFF!"
I have to admit my heart sank at those words. I had heard
about Hufflepuffs and indeed my mother herself had
described them as a 'house of duffers'. But there was
nothing to do, so I removed the hat and went to sit with
my new house.
The first letter from my parents was not as bad as I had
envisaged. It was actually quite kindly, though full of
the condescension one uses to a very young or very stupid
child.
Perhaps it all began there? My terrible, unforeseen
descent into darkness. I'm not sure, but I do know that it
was at that moment I began to build up my defences. My
fortress, I used to call it. It was then I put up the
first brick. The first of many.
Soon I realised that Hogwarts shared the views of my
parents. Even my own housemates could be seen to belittle
themselves, both in and out of the view of others. I was a
rarity. A Hufflepuff with house pride. A Hufflepuff who
refused to be beaten.
Of course, it was quite useless. One person cannot win the
house cup and I soon gave up trying.
At that time, I was quite alone. But I really didn't care,
for mother had cultivated in me a true love for books and
I devoured the library. The only other person in the
entire school who read as avidly as I was Hermione
Granger. A Gryffindor. In the first few months, I met her
several times in the library. Perhaps we might have become
friends had it not been for that troll incident. After
that, she seemed stuck to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
Still, I didn't really mind, though, in hindsight, it was
probably then the first layer of my fortress was finished.
Square slabs of concrete. Thick. Protective.
My first year was ultimately uneventful. Of course,
rumours abounded of the doings of the 'Trio' of
Gryffindors but their doings were none of my business. Or
so I thought in those days.
I can remember being curiously glad as I walked into the
green and silver covered Great Hall at the end of my first
year. Somehow I had gotten it in my head that if
Hufflepuff couldn't win the House Cup, then neither of my
parents' houses deserved it either. Unfortunately, that
wish was to go unfulfilled. With almost as much disgust as
the Slytherins, I watched Dumbledore replace the green and
silver with red and gold.
The glee of the Gryffindors was expected, but what I
didn't anticipate was the happiness of both Ravenclaw and
Hufflepuff. It was as if the House Cup was merely a
competition between two houses - one of which was hated
unequivocally.
I probably would have lost any respect I had for my own
housemates had I not heard a boy next to me, also a first
year, whisper something to his friend: "Why do they
deserve points for foolhardiness?"
A smile had curled my lips at these words but when I
turned to look at the speaker, he gestured for me to be
silent. I was curious, and planned to ask him about it on
the train. As it transpired, I didn't need to wait that
long. As soon as the feast was over, he came over to me
and practically dragged me out of the Great Hall.
"What was that for?" I was infuriated.
I still remember the almost amused look in his eyes as he
regarded me coolly. "You'll do."
"Do you know why we clapped?"
"Use your brain! We aren't as stupid as the other houses
think!" The rage that was emendating from him was
palpable. "Look at what happens to the Slytherins when
they cross the Gryffindors. We don't need Gryffindor House
as our enemy. There is a power in our invisibility. You
can use it."
I still recall my confusion, yet those words would echo in
my head for years to come. There is a power in our
invisibility. I became more than that Macmillan ever
imagined would transpire because of his words. The power
in his words had lost its edge to him because of the
generations of Hufflepuffs behind him. All that resulted
now for him was safety. Safety from the Gryffindors.
Safety from the Slytherins.
However, it was I who thought of using our invisibility
for Hufflepuff glory. And there is nothing in Azkaban or
the Kiss that can take that away from me.
Yet, still, in those first few years, I had still not
cultivated my current burning hatred for the Gryffindors.
That particular feeling was not evident until my fourth
year. When the saviour of the wizarding world, the
boy my parents had raised me to revere, decided to usurp
our Diggory of his rightful place as the Hogwarts
Champion! It sickened me and it was then that I sought out
the Slytherins to help me right the situation.
Contrary to the beliefs of the Gryffindors, the Slytherins
were civil people. Well, reasonably civil people. The
first time I spoke to Draco Malfoy, he spat at my feet.
Unthinkingly, I then pulled out my wand and thrust it into
the curve of his throat.
Funnily enough, something close to admiration filled his
eyes then. It took a few more tries, but finally I had the
grudging respect of Malfoy. Then it was just a small step
until we, together, created badges proclaiming the
truth of the Hogwarts Champion.
Nobody in Hufflepuff really knew of my association with
Malfoy and they probably wouldn't have understood anyway.
We weren't the group of idiots most seemed to think we
were, but there was a certain listlessness in some parts
of Hufflepuff. Not with Macmillan or his group, they were
from Hufflepuff families and wanted to uphold the last
vestiges of house honour, but rather from some of the
newer Hufflepuffs. The ones who had come from Gryffindor
and Ravenclaw families. Much like my own. They sided with
the Gryffindors in everything. You could have probably
called them honorary Gryffindors. It disgusted me, but
there was nothing I could have done just then.
I learned much by being with the Slytherins. Their respect
wasn't easily won, especially since I was an outsider,
however, with difficulty, I earned it. Bit by bit. I
realised their admiration of intelligence and slowly they
came to realise that I had it. Black and white coalesced
for me in that year and they have never separated since.
My vaulting ambition surprised them and slowly led to
mutual trust.
Still, it came as a surprise when at the end of my sixth
year I received a message from what I immediately realised
as Malfoy's eagle owl. I knew, of course, to open it in
the Great Hall would be tantamount to a death sentence for
myself so I schooled myself in patience and opened it in
the privacy of my dormitory.
The message changed my life.
I say this quite unabashedly. It gave me a purpose where
previously there was none. My mother was still encouraging
me to be as Ravenclaw as possible, hence, she expected me
to top all the classes and my father, well, he didn't
write much. I wasn't a boy, so wanting me to become an
Auror would have strained his belief system too much and
there was nothing else he held as a noteworthy profession.
Of course, there was always the Gryffindor female
'profession' of being a housewife. A skill perfected by
the Weasley women.
A shudder still runs through me as I imagine what my life
would have been like if the message hadn't been sent. I
would probably have spent my seventh year worrying about
my NEWTs. I might have done well, but there is always the
element of chance. Who knows? And what would have been the
point of doing well when my life would have had no
direction?
Anyway, I wasn't that good a Hufflepuff. I wouldn't
have worked nearly hard enough.
I still puzzle over the Sorting Hat's words though. Always
I was a better Slytherin than Hufflepuff and both houses
accepted me equally. But perhaps I wouldn't have received
that letter had I been a Slytherin. It had only selective
recipients.
The glow that enveloped me as I read the message will stay
with me always. Always. For the first time in my life, I
felt needed. I felt that it didn't matter that I didn't
get the top grades, or that I wasn't born a boy, because
there was someone out there willing to accept me for who I
was. For myself.
That feeling itself was enough for me to sacrifice myself
for. The cause was secondary to me in the beginning;
Don't get me wrong. I was, and will be until the day I
die, a devoted supporter, but it was the purpose in my
life, the feeling I belonged, the need for me being there
- it was those feelings that pushed me to join. He was
patient with me and slowly through His teachings I learned
to believe in the cause.
The day I received my mark was the day of my graduation.
I remember my mother running up to me and grabbing my hand
in a parody of a happy relationship. Her smile was
distant. I hadn't done as well as she had hoped and
expected. I hadn't done the family proud. But of course, I
couldn't be blamed. After all, it was obviously not my
fault that I was both a Hufflepuff and a girl.
It was then I almost gave myself away. I almost wrenched
my arm away from hers. The words were on my lips. Don't
take the hand of a Death Eater lightly, Mother! Yet, I
controlled myself.
With a smile that would have done Him proud, I greeted my
family. Yes, I loved them for their support over the
years. I was really sorry that I had been so distant, but
the NEWTs were on my mind. And I was disappointed over my
scores, but, of course, I didn't blame them! After all, I
should have studied harder.
They were completely and utterly fooled.
In fact, neither of the two had any inkling of my true
calling until it was too late. Far too late.
I suppose I can't blame them for not knowing. I had been a
far too open child. My face used to be a book, able to be
read at an instant. But years of indifference had allowed
me to secure my fortress. Yet, it wasn't a cold fortress.
That would have been far too obvious. I still confided in
my parents, knowing that they told their friends
everything, and also knowing that all confidences were
false. They never suspected a thing.
Their deaths were on my specific orders. They knew too
much about me, about my childhood, about my weaknesses.
And Lucius Malfoy was happy to acquiesce to my wishes. He
was always a sadistic bastard. Always will be one. He's
too slippery and too careful to be caught.
Suddenly I notice that there is somebody else sitting next
to me in the cell. It's funny how I don't know when or how
she got there. A woman. Frizzy brown hair. Big brown eyes.
Obviously a reporter. Her quill is poised.
I look at her incredulously. Curiously enough, she looks
quite familiar. I dig in my memory and come up with a
name. Hermione Granger. The one girl at Hogwarts I could
have become friends with.
"I could have become friends with you. Did you know that?"
The words are out before I can stop them.
She looks surprised. "But I'm muggle-born!"
"Could have. Past tense." But I am already distracted.
"Why do they let you in here? Aren't they afraid I might
kill you?"
"That's the least of their worries," said Granger shortly.
"We still remember what you did to Albus."
So do I. It was one of the most pleasurable days of
my life. To watch the warm trail of blood run down his
face as I bled him. The coppery smell of his blood is
still with me. The feel of it through my fingers, pulsing,
live.
"Is that why you," she pauses, "killed him? Because he
'deserved it'?"
"Then why did you kill him? And the others."
With some effort, I focus my eyes on her. She is perched
on the edge of the stool, eager face, and bright eyes. I
sneer. "Which answer do you want?"
She is confused. "The truth."
"That's all you Gryffindors want, isn't it? The truth.
Well, guess what, my dear, there is no truth! You think
that I am a fanatic. The Hufflepuff who turned. The
Hufflepuff who wanted to be a Slytherin. The evil
Hufflepuff."
I laugh and am gratified to see a flitting look of fear.
"I believed in the cause, yes. And I still do."
"So that is why you killed them? For the cause?"
"My, my, my dear, you want it to be all black and white,
don't you? Simple. Clear-cut."
She decides to change tact. "When exactly did you decide
to turn against our side?"
"Exactly?" I mock. "You want an exact day, hour and
second?"
"Not exactly," she hedges.
"There's that word again. Exactly. You want to put me into
a little box. Well, welcome to the real world, Granger!
I'm a real person. You can't classify me like you classify
your books."
"Just answer my question."
"I am under no obligation to answer your questions, but I
will provide you with a quote. 'The road to darkness is a
journey, not a light switch.' I believe it was a product
of Muggle authors."
"You know about Muggle things?"
"I like being knowledgeable."
I can see that she is frustrated. My answers do not
satisfy her. I am glad. I do not wish to be classified
by Hermione Granger. I have seen her publications in
well-known wizarding journals. Her innate desire to
understand things shines through. Unfortunately for her, I
am human, not a thing and therefore, cannot be understood.
Perhaps she will simply (like so many others) come to the
conclusion that I am insane.
When I look up again, I notice that she has gone. It does
not affect me in the least. I am quite comfortable in this
cell. There is no longer any real desire to escape. I have
served my Master well and know that I will be remembered
as such.
But what He does not know is why I did all this. He thinks
that it is for the cause and partly, he would be correct.
But mostly, I have suffered trials and tribulations for
the glory of my house. For Hufflepuff house.
After all, I am the Hufflepuff who turned. It is my title
and I am proud of it. Some call this twisted loyalty and
perhaps they are right.
But what I know is that at last I have brought glory to
Hufflepuff.
Author Notes: As you can see, I have taken a novel
interpretation of Hufflepuff House. This fic was really
inspired by Ennia who forever champions the cause of
Hufflepuffs. It was she who first put the idea of a
Hufflepuff Death Eater in my mind.
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