Confessions of a Death Eater

I've been thinking constantly about Draco. Dear, dear Draco. My nephew is every bit like his father: blond, pale-faced, wanting nothing more than to see the end of Muggle-born witches and wizards. As a member of the Death Eaters, he's been doing some nasty things. Lately, though, I can see a change in him. For example, this past July, I saw how much he cringed when the Dark Lord killed Charity Burbage right in front of us at our meeting table, after which the snake ate her... Draco had never done or seen anything so horrible in his seventeen years of life.

The other day at Malfoy Manor, he asked, "Aunt Bella? Can I speak to you in private?" There was a real tone of concern in his words.

"Anything you want, Draco." He led me into his bedroom and set out two chairs for us to sit on.

"You have to swear that you won't tell a soul what I'm about to say," he said cautiously. I took his hand and nodded.

"Do you ever wish that you didn't become a Death Eater? That you could just be free to decide things for yourself instead of having someone else decide it for you? 'Cause I've been feeling that way for a while. I really don't know what to do about it."

I stopped to ponder what he said. This, coming from the son of Lucius Malfoy? It couldn't possibly be! When I saw the pleading stare in Draco's eyes, I knew he wasn't kidding. Here before me was a very scared and conflicted young man. What on earth was I going to tell him?

Eventually, I said, "Draco, you should put that out of your head. If your Mum and Dad got wind of this, they would probably disown you faster than you can say 'Slytherin'! Do you want to give them a heart attack by questioning their ways?"

"No... But... surely you've given it some thought yourself? Doesn't everybody?"

"No, not everybody does that, and I've definitely done no such thing!" I protested adamantly. "Just be a good nephew and don't mention this to me again." My reply faintly echoed what my father told me when I was young.

"Thanks for listening, anyway. I like talking to you more than talking to Mum. You seem better at keeping secrets."

That comment surprised me. "I do? You're too kind. Although, I don't know if that's something to be proud of..."

He dismissed me from his room, and I went about the day like nothing happened.

Draco, you need to know this about that conversation: I lied. I've thought about my choices more than I'd care to admit. Before you talked with me, I never used to think I had a choice. Mum and Dad made sure of that, not to mention that mean Muggle woman who called me "freakish". Now, I see that I always had a choice. What would I have been like if I took Andromeda's path, away from dark magic and the prejudice we have against Muggles? I'd be unbelievably different, for certain.

You're probably wondering, does this mean you would take everything back if you could? Well, I suppose that's exactly what I'm saying. But it's going to get worse, because the Dark Lord won't let up on his orders. My niece, Nymphadora Tonks, has fought me before. Next time we duel, I have to end her life. Why? Not only is she in the Order of the Phoenix, but she married a werewolf. Werewolves are much filthier than Muggles and Mudbloods, I assure you. And they're expecting a child which is due later this month!

I don't know who's going to read this, but it's worth writing all of it down on paper. Andromeda, I hope somehow you can forgive me for everything. You were shunned by your family, your husband was killed recently, and soon, I'll take your daughter away from you. Will you try to remember me as the kind girl I once was? And while I'm at it, Neville Longbottom, will you accept my deepest apologies? I wish I could undo the damage I did to your parents. It must be terrible to have parents who don't know who you are. You don't need to forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me.

Listen to me, Draco. I ran away from doing the right thing because I was scared out of it. That's precisely what Lucius and Narcissa are doing to you. It's far too late for me to go back, but it's not too late for you. You'll never understand how much remorse I've got locked up inside of me. This deadweight will burden me until my dying day, and it's nothing short of torture. Save yourself from this feeling. Dare to be like your aunt Andromeda. See why I couldn't let anybody find this until I was gone? Now you all know the truth. At least this made me feel somewhat less guilty.

Most insincerely,

Bellatrix Lestrange