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

Secrets, Scares and Surprises

October 31st, Halloween

GENEVIEVE'S POV

I woke up particularly early today, around six in the morning. My nightmares about Voldemort and James kidnapping me had unfortunately gotten more vivid and worse after a record of twenty-seven days without them being so bad. I yawned and cleared the sleep out of my eyes while groggily getting up and grabbing my robes. I went in and shut the bathroom door; I looked like a mess. Dark purple circles were practically ingrained under my eyes from lack of sleep. My outrageously pale skin didn't help with it. Oh, and the Voice, it had also gotten worse. It would talk to me at least once an hour, every hour, checking up on my feelings and telling me to go torture someone. I didn't quite know if Voldemort was said voice, but I had my suspicions. 

I tied my hair and splashed ice cold water on my face. It was obvious that the teachers weren't noticing how odd I've gotten merely because I was doing fantastic in my studies. I wasn't answering as many questions, I wasn't so enthusiastic. However, my tests and papers exceeded everyone's expectations of a Fourth Year. Dumbledore was usually set off by a drop in grades, like if one student who usually does exceedingly well has their grades drop. Whatever, I thought. These problems had to go away some time, right? 

I put on my uniform and tidied my hair, letting it fall to my elbows. I grinned, decided I looked well and grabbed my wand and walked out. Maybe there was some food in the Great Hall at this time. The Professors usually start to go down to eat or grade papers or something. 

As I entered the Great Hall, I noticed no one was there. Not one Professor, although there was some food, as I correctly predicted. I grabbed a seat at the Slytherin table and put some eggs on my plate. I began to play with it, separating the whites from the yolk, while thinking about Voldemort. He knows I'm alive, it's only a matter of time until he catches me. He's already given me a hit list of people I should kill as practice, which is a very long one if I do say so myself. And if I don't comply with his orders, he'd kill me. And I don't want to be dead. It's said that people would rather die than give public speeches. I'd give a million just so I could escape Voldemort.

I let my head rest in my hands, my palms covering up my face. I allowed one single tear to escape my eyes. This was the only time I would be allowed to show my true emotions through out the day, because I was alone. No one would ask questions, I wouldn't be made to reveal my identity. Sweet bliss at last.

"Tears are produced by the weak!" The Voice hissed. I sniffled and looked down.

"Can you please let me have a moment to myself? No one is watching." I thought quietly.

At this the Voice didn't respond- It usually did, after my incident with Lucius.  

"Oh, I'm going to become a monster. Stupid father with his stupid hit list with all these stupid innocent people on it..." I whined in a whisper.

"Hit list?" A hushed voice came from behind me. I turned around with wide eyes, already making up excuses, when I saw Snape. He looked, well, like his usual self. Uncaring glare, a neutral expression all over. Although I did sense fear and... repentance, in his voice? Did he feel sorry for me? I guess most people would, if they realized what I was doing and what my true intentions were.

I slowly nodded, quickly wiping another tear.

"Yes, a hit list... It's practice, really. He wants me to build up my hatred for everything muggle and non-pureblood. And you know what happens if I choose to object." I said sadly. At this point he did show concern on his face. He sat down next to me.

"What else has he told you through your thoughts?" He asked, staring at me.

"Wow, you figured out that one quickly. Well, just Death Eater things, I guess. Killing, killing, and how to become an emotionally detached robot slave... that kills. He also wants me to, you guessed it, kill the Potter kid. Voldemort is giving me headaches, Professor, headaches! Nightmares, wishes, demands, the lot. I mean, haven't you noticed I'm not as into Potions like before? The same has been happening in every class, just because of him. "Oh, do not show weakness, Genevieve," "Hey, how 'bout you kill that sixth year, my daughter?" It's just... sometimes I do want to kill 'em, just so he can shut the hell up!" I finished, exclaiming. He said nothing, he looked like he was deep in thought.