The Dark Arts

font-family:\"Lucida Console\"\'>Chapter One:
We are normal

Disclaimer: I
own everything!!!! Including the rights to Tom Felton’s underwear door.
Jealous??? (Just kidding, but you can sue me anyway. I don’t have any money so
you’d waste more money on legal fees!!!)

Please read
and review!!

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Now
I know that you have heard many horrible things about the dark arts. I myself
have heard them. Some rumors are true others are not. You see we, the followers
of this fine way of life, were not always frowned upon. There was a time before
I was even born, that my parent’s, lord Voldemort and his successors were
celebrated. A time of witch burning and what not. You remember. We all do. They
teach us about it in school. About how muggles were afraid of us. They are the
ones who started it. Not us. I have decided to write a journal because as you
will see, Slytherins come to school with a bad rep. No need to earn it. You
see, Salazar Slytherin was a normal person back then, but when you mix him with
Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw what do you expect?style=\"mso-spacerun: yes\"> Helga
was a muggle born witch and therefore had dirty blood. Excuse me if Salazar was
the only one to see her for what she truly was, a dirty mudblood. Rowena was a
halfblood witch would have
been tolerable, if she was not always sticking up for the rights of mudblood
and muggles. And Godric, who was Mr. pure and holy, had to stick up for them
and everything they stood for. All and all, Salazar was the only wizard, which
founded the school, with a head on his shoulders. He would have never allowed a
muggle loving fool like Dumbledore to run the school!! Never.

So
it all starts in my sixth year. The battles have started. More murders every
day. My father was released out of Azkaban, on account of all the stuff he’s
done for the ministry. I am happy; he asks me if I want to get my dark mark
yet. He says I should do it soon, so the dark lord knows my loyalty. And I am
unsure.

Today
is September first, the train leaves in four hours and I am happy. It is my
escape. From my father, and all his talk of the dark mark. The morning dawns
bright, unusually so for September. I meet Crabbe and Goyle at kings cross
station. They were different. Instead of being sluggish, they were almost
jumpy. I guess they too were having a hard time at home concerning the dark
mark. Don’t get me wrong. I am all for getting a mark and joining the death
eaters and my father. I just want to take some time to enjoy tormenting
mudbloods at school and not having the thought of Azkaban running through my
mind every time I pound some third grader.

We
boarded the train at about fifteen to and much to my surprise there was already
more than half the school mingling around the train. We could only find one
compartment available. And much to my annoyance there was already some one in
there. Well actually they weren’t exactly in the compartment their stuff was.
It was a Slytherins trunk so we decided that if the fifth year, it says on the
side so the house elves know where to put it, I could always tell them to
leave.

It
was about five thirty when she entered. It was not at all whom I expected. I
had expected maybe one of the girls who had idolized pansy and her group of
seventh grade evil. It was, however quite the opposite. It was none other than
Ginnysleysley. The youngest Weasley. The one who idolized Potter and the dream
team more than life itself. At first I thought it was a mistake. A very
terrifying reality set in then, some how, for some horrible reason, Ginny
Weasley had been put into Slytherin. We always knew Dumbledore was an idiot,
but this time he had gone too far. He had actually allowed a freckle-faced,
mudblood loving git, into Slytherin.

She
walked in and looked at us and kinda stood there dumbstruck.