I thought I was alone (Fred Weasley love story) (Re-writing-slow updates)

Prologue

They’re dead... How can they be dead? He killed everyone I love, my mum, and my dad, even my big brother. And now here is Fudge, expecting me to believe that Sirius Black killed my family. No. No, this is just not right. Sirius was a good man and a good friend of my fathers. It was Voldemort. My family is dead because Fudge is such a coward, now people are dying because he can’t face the fact that Lord Voldemort has come back. Fudge is just as guilty for all these people’s deaths; Fudge might as well of just killed them himself. All the things he's saying about Harry and Dumbledore, that’s bullshit. Harry would never make up the rise of Voldemort, I mean, the man, is he even a man anymore? Anyway he killed his parents when he was one year old. And tried to kill Harry himself. Harry doesn’t need or want any more fame. Even I can work that out and I don’t even know him personally. As now I here listening to the reasons why Fudge strongly believes "Sirius Black" murdered my family. But I just can’t focus on a single word coming from this mans mouth. I mean he can lie to himself if he wants. If it makes him feel better to lie to himself about Voldemort’s rise then who am I go judge? Oh right yeah, his stupidity is getting people killed. Innocent people.

"I think it was because your father was friend with hi-" I'd had enough. I got up and walked out of the room. I only half heard Fudge’s questions from behind me. It was like something had blocked my ears and all I could hear were mumbles. But I didn’t answer to his pleads for me to come back. I keep walking through his attempts to tell me I am in grave danger. I don’t stop walking until I reach the place I can apperate out of. Within a second I am standing outside my childhood home. I walk through the house very careful not to look at anything but my feet. Only when I reach my room do I look up. Walking to my bed I just collapse. I lay there for god knows how long, just waiting for the tears to come. But the more I wait. The more I realise they won’t come.

My name is Micayla Hayes.

                                           And this is my story.

                                                                     Welcome to hell.

                                                                                         Well my hell anyway.