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- My father had told me that mudbloods are inferior, more inferior than half-bloods, and that I should be proud to be a part of the Malfoy family whose blood was purer than almost all other wizarding families, but for the first time ever, I was not proud. -

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  The necklace mentioned in my book wasn't hard to find. In fact, it was being sold at Borgin and Burkes. In my letter to Mr. Borgin about the poor performance of his vanishing cabinet, I enclosed enough galleons to purchase said necklace. One week later, my owl returned with a package.

  I kept the necklace hidden from everyone in the Room of Requirement, begging that no one would discover it. I plotted dozens of ways that I could deliver the necklace to Professor Dumbledore, but I knew that he saw right through me. He wouldn't take the necklace. I had to find someone he trusted to do it.

  And that meant... Yes, I would have to use the Imperius Curse.

  Every weekend I would sneak off to try and mend the cabinet, but it didn't seem like much progress had been made. It was nearing Christmas now and I was running short on time. Half of the school year has gone by, and I haven't even tested with any live subjects yet.

  All the apples I put in still came back missing pieces. Mr. Borgin was running out of hope as well, so I decided that it was time to test another option. The necklace. It would be risky, devastating if Potter found out, but it would be the quickest way to do it.

  The next weekend I went to mend the cabinet, I also practiced the Imperius Curse. I had only seen Professor Moody, well it was really Barty Crouch Jr, do it, but I had never cast the curse myself.

  "Imperio," I whispered, pointing my wand towards a bird. To my surprise, the bird obeyed me. Wherever I pointed my wand would be the next place that the bird flew. Caught up in my success, I lost focus and the confused bird regained control of itself.

  Frustrated, I turned my attention to the cabinet. For what felt like the millionth time, I set an apple down in the center of the cabinet, closed the door, and whispered, "Harmonia Nectere Passus." The apple was sent to Borgin and Burkes. "Harmonia Nectere Passus."

  I opened the door, fully expecting to see a damaged apple, but to my pleasant surprise, it was untouched. Smiling proudly, I decided that I didn't have a second to waste. If I had mended the cabinet even slightly, then I have a chance of succeeding. I used the Imperius Curse again on one of the birds and directed it to sit calmly in the cabinet.

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  I sent it to Borgin and Burkes, then back to Hogwarts. The bird had died. I whispered curses at myself under my breath. I was disappointing my family. I was causing my mother distress. But most frighteningly of all, I was sentencing myself to death.

  I slammed the cabinet door shut and allowed myself to cry. It was safe in the Room, no lurking eyes, no suspicious Potters. I let myself sob out everything.

  My father's harsh words replayed in my head only to be drowned out. His expectations of me shattering in disappointment.

  My hateful comments to Granger in the last six years were reawakened in me, making me feel like a monster all over again.

  "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood!" I reheard my twelve year-old self saying. Even back then I said it out of jealousy. I said it because I denied what I felt for her. I rewatched in my memories her heart breaking and Weasley stepping between us, "Eat Slugs!" I had to force myself to laugh when his spell backfired, but as Hermione gently carried him out of my sight, I saw what kind of monster I was.

  At the time, I hadn't regretted it. It made me feel like I didn't fancy her. Even then I knew that if I told Father that I fancied her, he would punish me, and severely. Even if he wasn't present at Hogwarts, his reign over me never ended. From day one, Father made sure that all of my acquaintances were the children of his friends; Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and even Zabini. I knew if one of those numskulls knew about my crush on Granger, it would get back to my father in some way or another.

  To avoid that specific confrontation, I stuffed down all my feelings for Granger. I even told Crabbe and Goyle that I hoped she would die. That wasn't out of hate or jealousy, but because I didn't want the pain of knowing how much my words hurt her.

  That all changed when she was petrified. I realized that life without Granger was a lonely life. Even if she despised me, it was better than a world where she didn't exist. She was strong, nothing that I could say damaged her confidence. She was brave, she stood up to me. She was intellegent, not every second year can take on a room full of pixies. Granger has been tugging on my heartstrings since we met on the Hogwarts Express.

  I asked Madam Pomfrey to allow me some time to see Granger without anyone else being aware, so she kindly allowed me to come in during the evenings when all of her patients were asleep. It was eerie, creeping around all the sleeping people and spooky when I passed by a petrified person, but none of that mattered when I saw her.

  Her mouth was wide open as if she had just gasped, and her eyes looked the same. Her skin was ice cold, colder than mine, and she felt like stone. I put the bouquet of flowers that I brought for her on her night table, and I hid an apology letter in the pocket of her robe.

  There, in that hospital wing, my twelve year-old self felt something that overwhelmed me, something that I couldn't understand. A choking sensation came up into my heart and I regretted all the nasty words I had said. I had placed a hand over my heart and doubled over in the pain of knowing how much I had hurt her.

  My father had told me that mudbloods are inferior, more inferior than half-bloods, and that I should be proud to be a part of the Malfoy family whose blood was purer than almost all other wizarding families, but for the first time ever, I was not proud. Hermione was better than me at every subject. She overshadowed everyone in anything she did, stealing the spotlight from me. I was jealous of her. How could a mudblood be better than a pureblood?

  In the hospital wing it hit me. Seeing her frozen face, knowing that just weeks ago I wished her to die, sparked something inside of me. It made me feel ashamed of who I was, only for a second. Then I remembered how much Father values purity of blood and it all came back to me. She may be better at casting spells or brewing potions, but she would never be superior to me.

  In the Room of Requirement I cried, now realizing how false that was. Realizing how much of a coward I was for bowing down to my anger, letting the twisted parts of me rule over my mind. It was too late for me now, I am a Death Eater. There is no going back to second year, but I can try to keep Granger and I on good terms for as long as is possible.