He could feel himself rotting away on the inside; everything that was him - that defined him - twisting into something unrecognisable, and as far from the person that he wanted to be as possible. And there was nothing he could do to change it.

He hated this feeling - this helplessness - that was brought with it. Or maybe, that was the cause of it. He couldn't tell any more.

Either way, it was tearing him apart. Eating him away from the inside out, and he was no longer in control. Everything was falling away from him, everything he had worked so hard to achieve was disappearing, and that was such an entirely new sensation to him that he almost didn't know what to do with it.

But he knew - he knew - that the only way to end it - to stop feeling like this - was to make a change. To become more like his brother, the brave and courageous Gryffindor. To stand up for what he believes in.

He just wasn't sure what that was anymore.