Guilty Until Proven Innocent

Guilty Until Proven Innocent
Lanni Weasley

Prologue: Pure Black

In the eyes of the rest of Hogwarts, we Slytherins may seem quite horrible when in fact only some of us are. It is a terrible shame that the most ambitious of us are the worst of us. It is people like them who have helped give Slytherin the bad label that it has today: Producer of Evil Wizards and Witches. We're not all prats. We're not all evil. Honestly, I hope some of us aren't evil. I hope I'm not evil.

We are, however, divided. And as the saying goes, "Divided we stand; divided we fall." It's no wonder that all of the other Houses of Hogwarts do so well when we are far behind. These are the years that we should stand tall together - these are the years we should fight together. But instead, we have some of the most brilliant minds of our time fighting against each other. They aren't the enemy, can't they see?

Slytherin is a producer of brilliant, ambitious people. The environment we are constantly pushed into makes it almost impossible to be otherwise. Most eleven year-olds that are sorted into this House already know how it is because most of us are purebloods. I grew up the same way as them. I have only known the way of a pureblood - a cold, calculating, sharp way. Some of us have already been pushed to the extremes of this pureblood mania. I don't think it's that good for us to be brought up this way. We need to learn to accept others, not learn to change others to fit our likings. That would be wrong, changing someone's identity - better yet, killing someone's identity.

Maybe things would be different if there wasn't such a manic obsession about pure blood. Maybe things would be for the better; I don't know. I want to know, but I can't because it is here, all around us - right in front of us. It's quite maddening, really. All I have known is that I am better than those that are not pure - those that are dirty. But what is pure and what is dirty, I ask you?

They say it's blood that matters - all that matters. That's funny. I thought it was what was on the inside that counts, but then again, blood is on the inside. I remember being told by my peers - my own family - that those who were not pure - those who were dirty - were low-life scum; I was so much better than them. But when it came down to it, I didn't feel any better than them. In fact, I think I felt worse.

People from other Houses didn't look at me and say, "Oh, look; she looks lonely. Let's go talk to her and cheer her up." No, that was simply unheard of. As a Milan and as a Slytherin, it was an unwritten law that people from other Houses could not be associated with me - could not even talk to me. They looked at me and thought, Oh, look; Milan looks lonely. Who gives a care? It hurt me, I'll tell you. It hurt me almost more than any hex. I was just eleven; I was just a little girl then. And they didn't care about me. They wouldn't have cared if I had died.

But they didn't know me. They didn't know who I really was or what I was like. All they saw was a flashing sign that constantly read: Milan, Slytherin. They didn't even know what my first name was: Layla, that's it, Layla! All they knew was what my last name meant and what they thought Slytherin meant. Well, they obviously didn't and they still don't.

The Milan Family: A powerful pureblood family that's vast power extends, not only throughout England, but to several other European countries, such as France, Germany, Switzerland, and many more. They are considered to be one of the deepest families when it comes to the Dark Arts and their reign is strong and firm. Their ancestry can be traced back as far as to possibly Rowena Ravenclaw herself. But since two hundred years, all have been in sorted into Slytherin except for two, both of whom were immediately titled as outcasts.

That's what my last name gives me. It gives me the fear of others; it gives me the hate of others; it gives me nothing but problems. I'm rich, but I'm not rich. You're only rich when you have many people that love you and would be willing to die for you. I do not have that. I'm not so sure that I ever will. No one ever gave me a chance. I wanted the chance, but no one gave it to me. No one ever gave me a simple reason of doubt. And as if that wasn't enough to doom my future, the Sorting Hat had to throw me into Slytherin, which's noble name had been distorted far too much over the years for my liking.

Slytherin: Young witches and wizards are sorted into Slytherin, one of the four Houses in Hogwarts, by their amount of ambition, not wickedness. Yes, Salazar Slytherin only wanted purebloods to be allowed in Hogwarts and yes, he did create the Chamber of Secrets (or so says the tale anyway), but it is feverish ambition that is the key ingredient for a Slytherin mind. If you have what it takes and will do anything to achieve what you want, then you are a Slytherin. This means that you will do anything.

You see, they see us and think we're just this evil, snide scum when in all actuality, we're not. We are just like them, but with more ambition than them. We will do anything to accomplish what we desire, even if it means that we must stomp over others to reach it - to reach our dream. So if that's something that should make others persecute others, then please, feel free to destroy the entire world. Everyone has a bit of ambition in them. If you didn't, you'd go nowhere and die.

Up until eleven, I hadn't known what the word "Friendship" meant. It was almost as if I hadn't been allowed to have a friend. I hadn't been around that many children my age, and the ones I was around were just the same as me - confused, hopeless, scared, obedient, and quiet. We didn't know how to talk to each other. We just stood beside our parents and imitated them. We were them, but younger. We were never ourselves; we were always told to be like them. We had no identity to ourselves so you can imagine that when we were thrown into Hogwarts, we were scared out of our wits. We could no longer imitate; we had to be ourselves. But really, who was "ourselves"? I didn't know then. And it took me years to find out.

My seven years at Hogwarts were confusing, terrifying, exciting, and enticing, all the same. That place was astounding, honestly. I wouldn't trade my memories there for the world - even the worst of them. The people I met, the things I learned, I hardships I overcame, and the people I came to love: Those were the things that helped me find who I was and helped me create who I would later become.

Yes, it is possible for a Slytherin to love. I know it seems impossible, but it is very true. If it wasn't, how could there possibly be more and more children getting sorted into Slytherin? We're even ambitious when it comes to love. Although I was quite ambitious myself, I was never that ambitious when it came to love. I was barely shown any while growing up a young child so I was foreign to such strong feelings. The first friendship I made scared me, but I kept going and soon, I had gotten a best friend out of someone that was the same as me.

Regulus Anthony Black was my first friend's name - my best friend's name. We were both sorted into Slytherin in the same year. I didn't get along with the girls in my year. Nina Harper was the biggest girl I knew in my life; I didn't know such girls existed. She only cared about makeup and once she hit thirteen, boys were on her list, too. Anna Key was another girl that only cared about makeup and boys. Bellatrix Black was just way too sadistic for my taste; she was warped from the very beginning. I had no hope for her - for her redemption. And then there was Regina Fox, who was just positively revolting. By Third Year, she had this huge crush on Sirius Black - yes, a Gryffindor.

Most girls were dying to go out with him. He was handsome, yes, and he was smart, of course, but I couldn't like him. Of course, he was quite cool; I'll admit that he was the height of cool, even along with James Potter - maybe even Remus Lupin (I heard that he had a good sized fan club himself). But Sirius was Regulus's older brother and that didn't set right with me - or him. I had never thought of Sirius Black as more than a very cool, older teenager. I didn't care that he was in Gryffindor, like most people (I didn't mule over that aspect of students). He was just Sirius Black.

And I think that deep down, Regulus still cared about Sirius. Our third year was the hardest on him because Sirius had run away that summer. He missed Sirius, I think, though Regulus would never in a million years have admitted it. Sirius was his brother - his blood - and whether he liked it or not, they had a bond that, no matter how hard it was to see, was there. It was in their eyes when they passed each other in the hallways; it was there when Sirius would see Regulus getting picked on; it was everywhere when they saw each other. Sometimes, it was almost unbearable for Regulus. I remember him crying on my shoulder one night our third year after he'd gotten picked on and Sirius had just watched as he passed by. And they said only Slytherins were cold-hearted. At that moment, I had thought I could hate Sirius no more.

But I look back on those years and smile with a shadow of a frown. Those years are far in the past now. I can't go back and tell Sirius that he's hurting his brother. I can't go back and make everyone see it my way - that it doesn't matter what House you're in and what your last name is as long as you stick together and laugh together. There's nothing I can do now because now, all that I accomplished, I have lost - except one thing.

Regulus was...enigmatic - more than I gave him credit for anyways. Although it was impossible to hide anything from me (it was very impossible, I assure you), I chose not to use my ways to find out. He was my friend, and I couldn't do that. If I had to use my ways to see if he was lying or not, then he couldn't be my best friend. I guess it was my stupid Code of Honour or something like that. I say it was stupid because it truly was. I probably could've stopped something had I not lived by that rule in my life. Stupid girl, I was (and still am).

I didn't want to believe it when Regulus turned out to be a Death Eater. Merlin, we'd talked about what we were going to be after we graduated Hogwarts. I had the opportunity to become an Unspeakable - I even had the opportunity to become the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. Regulus had wanted to become Assistant to the Minister of Magic and later to become the Minister of Magic, himself - or so he had said.

I had specifically made it clear to Regulus that I would never become a Death Eater and he...he had agreed with me. Had he already been branded one...? I think I know what he did to get into the inner circle, too, and why he became one. All of the pureblood mania crap had been drilled into his head so hard after Sirius left that he had no choice but to become one of them and he had to spill a secret that he promised to keep to his grave. He never did take it to his grave.

I was born with a secret - with a secret and a secret power. No one had been given such a strange gift since Rowena Ravenclaw. It was unheard of. No one knew what it was. This power exceeded the reaches of Voldemort's power even. I was four when it became apparent.

I remember this one cool evening during the late of fall when I sat in front of the fire. My mother walked up behind me quietly, and I said, "Mother, I did all my studies and I re-read the Code five times already. Oh, and Cody and Father won't be home for another two hours." She had just gaped at me, stunned. I hadn't known anything was different. I hadn't known that I had just read my mother's mind without even trying.

What they said I had they also said was physically and mentally not possible. I had the power of - what they called -Advanced Leglimency abilities, just born with them. No one else had it and I was unique. My parents forced me to sharpen my blessed gift (and my horrid curse) with training that I came up with. I didn't like for anyone to know and neither did my parents; I think they were saving it for another day. But they didn't get to use that card.

Regulus used it first. I know he told bloody Voldemort and his bloody Death Eaters that I had the power of Advanced Leglimency - I could actually read minds without a wand. That was what he used because I was forced to go into hiding after my house got run down wit h Death Eaters. If I wasn't going to be on his side, he wasn't going to let me be on any side at all.

I'd like to say that I hate Regulus for doing that, but I can't hate him because I will always love him. They say that you can "fall out of love", but I'm not so convinced. Even if it is only the love for a friend, I think that you can't do such a thing. You might never speak to this person again, but if they showed up on your doorstep one night in the soaking rain, you'd accept them in a heartbeat. I'd do that for Regulus, even if he is a supposed-to-be dead former Death Eater. That's right; he's a former Death Eater. He got killed because he tried to back out - because he tried to do the right thing. They always said redemption was hard to live through.

I miss him - Regulus - I do. I wish he wasn't dead. I wish he hadn't become a Death Eater. I wish he could be here so I wouldn't be so alone. I wish none of this would have happened. I wish a lot of things, but none have seemed to come true.

My name is Layla Milan. I'm a thirty-one, former Unspeakable, turned used-to-be informant for the Order of the Phoenix and now the personal trainer of one Ron Weasley, the second person, counting me, to have (albeit late) shown signs of Advanced Leglimency. This is my story after my forgotten past. Oh, and please, don't forget Mr. Ron Weasley. He's in here plenty.