Good or Evil, Which One Should I Fight For? (A Harry Potter Fanfic)

Sorry I Tortured You, It Was a Mistake

--GENEVIEVE'S POV--

I turned around and headed into my room, locking the door and sliding down to the floor. I wouldn't be able to sleep that night, I think Professor Snape knew that too. I heard him sigh and walk away from my door after a couple minutes. I sobbed for a while, tried to get all my tears out of my system, and then I just pondered about the dream, about Dumbledore and Snape's reactions. And I thought about the man, or "The Dark Lord." Sounds creepy, and scary. Powerful. 

I sighed, and checked the time. 4 AM. Greaattt. I spent about five hours sobbing and thinking. 

I unlocked my door, and slowly opened it. Not a sound came from the rusty door hinges. Good.

I tiptoed out of my room, and saw Snape lying on the couch sleeping. He cared, I thought with a smile. 

I walked out of the dwelling, careful not to make noise. I started to walk through the hallways, looking around. It occurred to me that I liked the castle at night, when it was kind of dark. It was pretty, and the aura was abstruse and just... undescribably mysterious. Gah, I was using that word too much. I hate repitition. Or anything that takes too long, really. I guess my personality is just that way. I like speed, agility, things going my way. I liked to be in control, also, which was the only reason why I hated books. For instance, the author is leading you on the journey of this awesome couple, and them BAM! the woman cheats on the guy, it's just stupid.

I wandered down the corridor and came along a huge trophy case. Quidditch trophies, steal plates congratulating or agknowledging someone, random stones placed for decoration, and pictures. One picture in particular caught my eye. The guy looked awfully familiar. Black hair, hazel eyes, broomstick in hand.

Holy crap!

I took off the heart shaped locket that was on my neck and opened it. There was the man from the picture in my locket, only aged a bit. Could he be my father? He was standing next to my mom in my locket. Yeah, he probably was. And with that, I just kept staring at him, grinning. There was a girl next to him in the Quidditch picture that looked exactly like me. She would have have been mistaken for my twin. It was odd... Ah, she could probably just my mom. Best explanation for that.

Hmmm, it said he was a chaser for his team. Sounds cool.. but seeker sounded better. I'd ask Snape about it tomorrow, or today actually. I decided to go back, in case he woke up. As I opened the door and turned to slowly close it, I heard a cough come from behind. I screamed and turned around, a hand on my heart. Snape was standing there, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

"Where were you?" He asked harshly, in a hiss. Ever since I saw the dream his voice had maintained a certain edge to it.  

"Just looking around the place, Professor. No big deal..." I said as I sat on the chair he pointed to. He was mad...

"No big deal? Who are you fooling, you insolent child!" He uttered at me. I scrunched my eyebrows together in confusion. Tears threatened to spill, but I blinked them back.

"Listen, Professor, if I did anything to offend you or something I am terribly sorry, but just because I had a bad dream doesn't mean I'm an 'insolent child!' " I exclaimed.

 "Be quiet!" He glared and bellowed. My mouth hung wide open. The hell?! I started to get angry.

"Yes, become angry. Hurt him, Genevieve. Do it." The voice that I heard a month ago hissed at me.

I reluctantly listened to it, then glared at Snape.

"NO. Why do I have to be? I don't get what was so bad about what I saw or did!" I stood and looked up at him. It didn't help that he was six feet tall and I was only five-eight. The four inches made a difference.