Write a ficlet about betrayal
If you want to know about betrayal, you needn't look any further than my family. You can't imagine what growing up in that family was like for me. If you're interested in anything other than Quidditch or idiotic pranks, or fawning over Harry bloody Potter, you might as well be a Death Eater so far as my family is concerned. God forbid that you actually believe that studying hard in order to get top grades is more important than playing Quidditch. God forbid that you should believe that working hard in order to get a good job is more important than hanging about the house whining about your secondhand clothes and books, like my siblings did all of time.
My brothers teased me mercilessly my whole life, and I had to listen to Ron whine constantly about being poor, and I even had to deal with my baby sister tattling on my romance with Penny Clearwater. Fine. All families have faults. I loved them all, even though they all drove me mad most of the time. But what I cannot forgive is how betrayed I felt when my own father looked me in the eye and said that I didn't deserve my promotion to be the Jr. Assistant to the Minister for Magic. I had spent nearly a year running one of the most important departments in the entire Ministry virtually alone because Mr. Crouch was ill. Mind you, my father was considered to be a bit of a joke at the Ministry, if you must know. It embarrasses me to admit that, but it's true. They all thought he was a bit soft in the head about Muggles, and he was off in that dead-end little office with his Muggle trinkets doing meaningless, nothing tasks-when he wasn't covering up law breaking by the likes of Bagman or Moody. In the meantime, right after graduating from school, I was running the entire Department of International Magical Cooperation. The Minister himself hand-picked me to be his special assistant because he recognized my hard work.
To hear my father tell it, it was all fake, and I was just a dupe and a spy. A spy! He accused me of being willing to spy on the family! Can you possibly imagine what it would feel like to have your own father look you in the eye and tell you that he thinks that you would sell out your own family for ambition? I knew that my family didn't like me, but I had no idea just how much they all despised me until that moment. He might as well have just killed me. Bastard. I love my family, all of them, even the god-damned twins who spent their entire lives tormenting me. I loved them all and yet this is what they thought of me. I had never once complained. I had done everything right. I had even followed in my father's own footsteps and gone to work at the Ministry just like him. Just like him! Christ, it makes me sick now to even think about them.
I've tried my best to stay away from them ever since. If that's what they all think of me, then to hell with them. I wrote to Ron once to tell him that I still loved him and the family and he never wrote me back, so to hell with Ron, especially. The new Minister - who has kept him on as his assistant I'm sure I don't need to remind anyone - forced me to take him over to the Burrow one afternoon because he wanted to talk to Harry Potter. My family, my oh so perfect, loving family threw food at me. Yes, Merry fucking Christmas, Weasleys. You want me to hate you as much as you hate me? Fine, I will.
My brothers teased me mercilessly my whole life, and I had to listen to Ron whine constantly about being poor, and I even had to deal with my baby sister tattling on my romance with Penny Clearwater. Fine. All families have faults. I loved them all, even though they all drove me mad most of the time. But what I cannot forgive is how betrayed I felt when my own father looked me in the eye and said that I didn't deserve my promotion to be the Jr. Assistant to the Minister for Magic. I had spent nearly a year running one of the most important departments in the entire Ministry virtually alone because Mr. Crouch was ill. Mind you, my father was considered to be a bit of a joke at the Ministry, if you must know. It embarrasses me to admit that, but it's true. They all thought he was a bit soft in the head about Muggles, and he was off in that dead-end little office with his Muggle trinkets doing meaningless, nothing tasks-when he wasn't covering up law breaking by the likes of Bagman or Moody. In the meantime, right after graduating from school, I was running the entire Department of International Magical Cooperation. The Minister himself hand-picked me to be his special assistant because he recognized my hard work.
To hear my father tell it, it was all fake, and I was just a dupe and a spy. A spy! He accused me of being willing to spy on the family! Can you possibly imagine what it would feel like to have your own father look you in the eye and tell you that he thinks that you would sell out your own family for ambition? I knew that my family didn't like me, but I had no idea just how much they all despised me until that moment. He might as well have just killed me. Bastard. I love my family, all of them, even the god-damned twins who spent their entire lives tormenting me. I loved them all and yet this is what they thought of me. I had never once complained. I had done everything right. I had even followed in my father's own footsteps and gone to work at the Ministry just like him. Just like him! Christ, it makes me sick now to even think about them.
I've tried my best to stay away from them ever since. If that's what they all think of me, then to hell with them. I wrote to Ron once to tell him that I still loved him and the family and he never wrote me back, so to hell with Ron, especially. The new Minister - who has kept him on as his assistant I'm sure I don't need to remind anyone - forced me to take him over to the Burrow one afternoon because he wanted to talk to Harry Potter. My family, my oh so perfect, loving family threw food at me. Yes, Merry fucking Christmas, Weasleys. You want me to hate you as much as you hate me? Fine, I will.