His life was torture; he was no stranger to absolute hell. He was convinced he had no chance salvation from his sins and murders; yet, here they were, telling him what he was. It made sense, though, and as they lifted the binding spell his father had placed on him years before, he felt a surge of power, abruptly accompanied with a searing pain between his shoulders.

He fell to the floor in agony, writhing in pain. It was unbearable, and was ten times worse than the Cruciatus curse. His screaming was high-pitched and unearthly.

How can I decide what's right, 
When you're clouding up my mind,
I can't win your losing fight...~Paramore

 And then honey-brown became mahogany, and those beautiful brown eyes he loved so much became a sinful sea-green and he drowned in them, falling faster and faster into their depths, so much so that he couldn’t breathe.