Centaur: Write about someone who is of two minds (indecisive).
(dialogue) "If you're the smartest person in the room, get out of there."
(weather) rainy
(action) getting down on one's knee/s
I sat in my study. Alone. Just thinking. Who am I? Am I a killer or a boy lost to the world? A violent psychopath or a lonely orphan? I used to hate all things Muggle because it was a reminder of what I had lost. My childhood, my love, my mother.
"Enter," I barked. Bellatrix Lestrange entered the room with a smile on her face.
"My lord," she said bowing. I frowned. Why must she act like this? She was obsessed, like she had nothing else in her life. What would happen to Bellatrix if I disbanded the Death Eaters? Too many of my followers would get sent to Azkaban. People who trusted me would hate me. I would be the reason that they were sent to prison.
"What do you want?" I snapped. Her blank face changed into a frown, just for a second.
"I bring good news," she said in her singsong voice.
"What? I don't have all day."
"Severus told me that he has something for you. Something big. He is coming after classes let out for the day," she cackled gleefully. I waved my hand dismissively and she left the room, still cackling.
What new information could Severus have? Could it end this war? Would it end this war? How would it end? With me winning? Or losing? I kinda want to lose. I don't believe in this cause anymore. But I just can't bring myself to end this. To stop the Death Eaters. My Death Eaters would be devastated. I just don't know if I can end it. Rebeca, my only love, would have told me to never have started it in the first place.
Rain poured down from the clouds, thundering against the ground. A loud knock sounded against my door. I looked up from my book. Carefully I set my book down, marking the page with a bookmark. I walked over to the door. Slowly, I opened the door to see a soaked Severus. I led Severus into my study where we could have our discussion.
"I have heard of a prophecy. It was told to Dumbledore by the divination professor. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies… The Order is abuzz with the prophecy, and two families have already been notified. The Longbottom's and Potter's," Severus said.
"Thank you, Severus. Don't tell anyone about this," I said. Severus left the room. I sat down in my favourite armchair. I closed my eyes and started to think.
How would I mark the child? A spell or a curse? Most likely a spell. What power could he have that I know not? An old family ability. This last part is clear, I will die or he will die. I don't know if I can kill a child. Adults are different, there are reasons to kill them. A child? An innocent child, that has yet to choose a side in this war. This is a war of adults, not children.
Looking around I saw many faces. Some of which I recognized. Many I didn't. One face, in particular, stood out. Her name was Rebeca Daniels. She was Muggle-born. She was beautiful in subtle ways. Her eyes always sparkled, her hair straight and long. She loved to read and play Quidditch. She was in Hufflepuff. I was her study partner in potions. She was pretty bad at potions. Every night we would sit together in the library working on our potion lessons. Over time she got better, but she would never have become a potions mistress.
I awoke with a start. It was a dream. My mind wandered back to Rebeca. She used to tell me, if you're the smartest person in the room, get out of there. I think she told me as a joke but, I never asked her why. I used to respond with, "Well if you are in the room then I never have to worry about it, unless its potions." It was our little thing. In my third year, we started dating. We were in our seventh year when she was diagnosed with Muggle cancer.
(Flashback)
I was in the library sitting beside Rebeca. It was perfect, she was reading Quidditch Through the Ages for the hundredth time. She was softly smiling. Rain pitter pattered outside. Slowly I put my book down, being careful not to make a sound. I sank down on one knee.
"Rebeca Daniels, you are my one and only one, my perfect match. You are the peanut butter to my jelly. Will you marry me?" I whispered. She started to cry. Did I do something wrong? Gently I wrapped her in my arms. With her still wrapped in my arms, we left the library. I half carried her to our little alcove.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"It's just that I can't. I want to, but I can't. I have something I need to tell you. I couldn't find a time to tell you. I have cancer," Rebeca said with a cry. Her crying got louder. I sat on the floor in our alcove waiting for her to calm down. I slowly ran my fingers through her hair to calm her.
"Rebeca, I still want to marry you," I said.
"Why? I am broken," She cried.
"No, you are strong and beautiful," I said.
(End Flashback)
Cancer was a curse to whoever was diagnosed with it. To which neither the muggle nor wizarding world could cure. You could undergo a series of Muggle and magical treatments, but they caused as much pain as they helped. Rebeca made the decision not to take treatment and live what time she had left of her life to the fullest. Six months later she died. From my devastated heart, a wicked me emerged. I hated the Muggle world for killing the girl I loved. Over the years I started to come to the conclusion that I was wrong and it wasn't anyone's fault. I had thought many times in the past about ending the Death Eaters. Ending all the death. I knew that Rebeca would be disappointed in me, in the path I took after her death. I am not satisfied with the path I am taking with my life. I wanted to make a difference. Help people, not kill them. No longer did I want to ruin the lives of innocents. It was something I had thought about for years and years. Every time I thought about Rebeca. Just the thought of her being disappointed made me want to stop. I just never had the courage to make the decision. My followers will never stop.
I have to stop them!