Distorted Mirrors

Distorted Mirrors

Only two of the old crowd still haunt you.

Simon Wilkes, who lent you his handkerchief once after James Potter's gang roughed you up. Everybody liked Wilkes and he wanted to like everybody. He was the one who persuaded Bellatrix Black and Rodolphus Lestrange and Evan Rosier to befriend you. Wilkes could influence people - but he was too spineless to use his influence to make his friends turn away from the Dark Lord, although you're positive he wanted to at first. You remember that closed and troubled look he used to have after the secret meetings that left the rest of you flushed with excitement, but he never spoke out. And then he got caught up in the dream he shared with his friend Rosier, the dream of seeking out hidden wisdom and destroying death. He never wanted to destroy Muggles, particularly, but somehow he confused the Dark Lord's false promises with his real aim.

And Bardolph Avery. Avery the not-so-bright kid in a crowd of young geniuses. Avery the coward who still found the courage to stick by his friends. Avery the fool who believed in loyalty. Avery the clown. He always talked in clichés, and somehow managed to get most of them wrong. When you close your eyes you can still hear him clapping you on the back in the Hog's Head, after standing you many rounds of drinks, and shouting, "All for one and one for none!"

That was just before you sold him.

You hate Wilkes for being bright, but not bright enough to turn away. You hate Avery for being a fool. You hate them both for putting friendship before right and wrong. You hate them for choosing darkness where you chose light.

(You hate them for being faithful where you were false.)

You hate them for making you care for them, back when you still cared for people, and then leaving you with no choice but to betray them. You hate Wilkes for rotting away in the Hogsmeade churchyard and you hate Avery for rotting away from the inside in some Knockturn Alley pub where he is drinking himself to death, alone.

(You hate yourself for doing that to them.)

You don't hate yourself for what you did to the others. Rosier and the Lestranges were brilliant and beautiful and ruthless. They knew what they were getting into and they paid a fair price for their bargain. And most of the rest of them were stooges like Crabbe and Goyle, who followed the Dark Lord without thinking or feeling. To quote another Avery-ism, they were sheep in wolves' clothing.

(You hate Bardolph and Simon because they still have power over you. It is because of them that you avoid looking at one particular corner of the Potions classroom, even though your favorite student, Blaise Zabini, sits there.)

Blaise is the only child who has ever reminded you of yourself. Brilliant. Sent far from home by a father who was ashamed of his very existence. Excluded from the popular crowd. And shrewd and cynical enough to see through whatever lies the next Dark Lord will use to tempt the next generation.

You hate gentle, brown-haired Tracey Davis, who somehow manages to be friends with both Pansy Parkinson's clique and the outsiders, because she makes you think of Wilkes. You hate insignificant little Theodore Nott because he reminds you of Avery.

(You hate them both because they are Blaise's friends and they will break his heart.)