The Will to Live
Author's note: I'm finally back, after a long time of relaxation! My exams are now, but I divided out a bit of time to write this. This is a person a few of you wouldn't actually regard of thinking about him. Here is my point of view for his behavior, but don't blame me for supporting 'the wrong kind'.
All characters belong to J. K. Rowling.
How did I get here? I know full well.
I'm going to die soon, but I know that I will be remembered as a coward on one side, and a traitor on the other.
I sit in this small cell in Azkaban, ready to die. I'm afraid of death, you know. I'm afraid of suffering, of torture, of pain.....but aren't you too?
Many of my people take death as a noble act, but I'm too afraid to commit it. When I was small, I was brought up in such a way which was full of order. I've seen members of my family die when I was small, and that frightened me. I didn't want to die, I had a will to live.
I was educated in Durmstrang, a place which I always called home. Other great schools, Western schools, frowned upon us like we were the outcasts of Europe, but we kept our pride. We didn't mix with mudbloods anyway. I grew up among my own kind, and you may be surprised how we stick together, united in one common goal, with clever minds and ambitions which only Slytherins, besides us, possess.
When I finished my education, I met a man who had the same ideas that Durmstrang took pride of. The man was the Heir of Slytherin, under the name of Lord Voldemort. What a brilliant wizard he was! He didn't shun me or the other Durmstrang residents as outcasts, but accepted us with understanding. Next to him, I felt that there was someone else in the world that wasn't poisoned against us, people of Eastern Europe.
Unfortunately, to my horror, he was using us.
We take loyalty seriously. Too seriously, in fact, that we would die for the master. I knew something was wrong, in my sober cowardice of death.
I went to the Ministry of Magic and confessed everything. They put me in prison, until I would be judged in the court.
An incident before the court happened, was when Moody visited my prison cell before the court session.
'Igor Karkaroff, eh? From Durmstrang?' Moody had drawled.
I nodded.
' Never liked your kind. Full of Dark wizards. I never understood the Slavs, Bulgars.....' Moody spat on the floor in disgust.
I felt my fists clench in anger,' Are you here to discuss my sentence or just to enjoy throwing mud at my kind?'
Moody gave a sick, toothy grin,' Maybe both.'
I was about to argue, when he lazily put up his hand for me to stop.
'I want you to give me the names of the Death Eaters working for Voldemort,' Moody growled.
'I won't,' I answered too quickly.
Moody shrugged,' Very well then. It is your choice. But do not be surprised when you find your wife-dead.......because of some, oh so unfortunate accident of being suspected for collaborating with Voldemort.'
I frowned at this. My wife was pregnant with child, and she didn't have anything to do with Voldemort- unless she was set up by the Ministry.
'How dare you!' I hissed,' This is blackmail! You are no better than Voldemort himself!'
Moody smiled easily,' It is war, you know. We must take precautions. So, will you tell us or not?'
Fuming, I gave up,' Alright, there is-'
'Say it in front of the whole court,' Moody said, his eyes shining with sadistic glee.
Reluctantly I did. When I was dragged into the court by those horrible creatures called Dementors, I confessed Severus Snape for working with Voldemort. This inflicted badly on my image, therefore, forever giving me a name of a 'traitorous coward'. Nobody even took in the account about the little chat between Moody and me.
At first, I was reluctant. But then, when they were about to take me away, I saw the malevolent glint in Moody's eyes that shone from the darkness. It was then when I blurted out,' Wait! Severus Snape!'
I felt sorry for the poor boy, for I admired his strength concealed in his youthful features. It was to my shock, that he was actually working for Dumbledore.
I was freed, and my wife and child were spared. It was not long after that I became a Dark Arts professor in Durmstrang, and in a few years, the Headmaster himself.
Now it was more of a chess game: Hogwarts against Durmstrang, white versus black, Dumbledore against me. I was a good Headmaster, trained strong, clever wizards and witches, fit for the hostility of the outside world.
The Dark Lord had fallen, because a baby boy had defeated him: Harry Potter. How the wizarding world celebrated!
Years went by, and I grew older as I watched my son grow up and become educated in the school I call home. The time had come for Triwizard Tournament to take place. It took place in Hogwarts.
I was ready to defeat the old man by summoning up my best students to sign up to join. Among them was Viktor Krum, the school star and the Quidditch prodigy. He was favored in Durmstrang: Viktor was an intelligent boy, very skilled in sporting activities and a good soul at heart.
We had come at Hogwarts, and to my pride Viktor became the representative for Durmstrang. But the unfairness of it all! There were two representatives for Hogwarts: Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory. Madame Maxime and I fairly argumented that the underage one should be taken out. But the sly old wizard had other tricks up his sleeve: Moody was there.
The next time I was to meet this wizard I was to put a curse on him, but luckily I took control of myself because of the students. I watched him wheedle his way into saying that Potter shouldn't be disqualified. After that discussion, I led Viktor out of this room of filthy liars. If they were going to cheat, so would I. I showed Viktor the dragons and at the first round of the Tournament gave the Potter brat a few points because he deserved it.
Then, the unexpected happened- Viktor was attacked. He was found unconscious near the forest, where Harry Potter found him. I was furious. When Dumbledore arrived, I gave him a piece of my mind: how dare he let my students get attacked? They were surprised by my behavior- what did they expect, for me to resort this peacefully? Then I gave Dumbledore the worst and the truest insult he deserved.
'Here's what I think of you and your establishment!' I spat at his direction.
Then that giant the must have had his head filled with hair grabbed me by the throat and pressed me to the tree. It was then that I realised that Dumbledore had the same influence over his followers as the Dark Lord had over his.
Dumbledore was merciful, for he told the giant to put me down. No doubt to show good faith. I walked off in the other direction, summoning all the dignity I could muster from this humiliating experience. It was not long after this, my Dark Mark began to burn.
I was in a state of panic. I was so desperate, that I even broke into Severus' class during one of his lessons (a mistake that aroused suspicions). Severus wasn't friendly towards me; I understand- I would act the same way when somebody tried to betray me.
'Get it out of my sight,' Severus had hissed.
There was nothing I could do. I had to leave. But before I left, I went to visit Viktor in the Hogwarts Library. He was probably chasing that mudblood girl again, however I didn't interfere in this affair.
There he was, sitting down and reading a book on the table. I went, and sat next to him.
'Headmaster Karkaroff!' He had choked when he saw me.
'Viktor, my boy. How are you feeling?' I inquired.
'I'm fine. I'm getting ready for the third round.' He smiled. We were talking in Bulgarian, so no one understood us.
'I saw you when you dived into the Lake. I admire your attempt in Transfiguring into a shark, but that was rather dangerous,' I scolded,' Nevertheless, you did rather well. Get ready for this one- I do not want to suffer another defeat by these.......people.'
Viktor nodded in understanding. Now was the hardest part.
'Do not give up fighting. Always remember that these are the people that look upon us as outcasts. We have our pride,' I stared into his eyes, a coldness washing upon me.
'Headmaster?' Viktor had frowned, sensing something was wrong,' Why are you saying this?'
I hesitated,' Because......I know how it is, out there. Don't pretend that you haven't heard some of the Hogwarts students, especially the Gryffindors, are cold towards you.' When he nodded sadly, I continued,' There are many of these kind of people in the world. They will scorn and try to use or humiliate you, sometimes try to put their blame on you. Whatever happens, don't let them stop you.'
Viktor looked at me with soulful eyes,' Do you want me to promise to you?'
I gave a bitter smile,' Promising can always be broken: that's what the Westeners do. We, on the other hand, keep it as advice to ourselves. It works much better in the end.'
There was a quiet understanding between us, before I stood up and left. I thought it would be the last time I ever saw him again.
I went home, and gathered my wife and son to go into hiding. It was cowardly of me, most likely, but as I said- I have a great will to live. We ran off to Bulgaria, the only place we knew where to hide.
That is how it has been for three years. We lived in a small house in a forest, trying to survive ourselves. I educated my son in isolation from the wizarding world that was in war. When he was seventeen, he joined the war on the side of Light. A few weeks before the end and defeat of Voldemort, he was brought back dead to us.
How I had suffered when I had to hold the dead body of my only child in my arms! My wife, Tatiana, had wept terribly but the tears couldn't bring him back to life, nor wash away his wounds. It was then, when I saw his lifeless eyes, my will to live had disappeared too.
He was buried in my family grave back in Russia, with only a slab of marble that bore his name among the many others that withered like roses there.
A few hours after the defeat of Voldemort, my wife and I were captured by the Ministry of Magic because of 'Not joining in to fight against a common enemy- defined as cowardice and treachery'. They were probably right, but wasn't the body of my son enough?
I was judged in the court, led by the English, without the grace of being judged by my own people. This time, I didn't bother nor have the will to defend myself. Everyone had voted for guilty- the punishment was death.
So now I'm in Azkaban, waiting to be executed by a random Dementor that will consume my soul. Somewhere deep inside me, I'm afraid to die.
They are opening my cell, and in comes Minister Fudge flaked by his sidekick Percy Weasley and a Dementor.
'Igor Karkaroff,' Weasley begins in an official tone,' you are guilty of cowardice and treachery in the war.'
Where did I betray them? A Dementor swoops over me.
'You are now official accepting the punishment according to the law: death,' Weasley finishes.
The clammy hand clasps over my mouth and brings it closer to perform the Dementor's Kiss. In the background, I hear Fudge.
'As a Headmaster you should have sacrificed your life,' the hypocrite speaks, ' Dumbledore did- therefore he's more worthy than you.'
Curse Dumbledore! Curse worthiness and honor! My soul was already damned- for being born as one of the outcasts.
THE END
Author's Note: Yes, I know, it was Igor Karkaroff, a wizard most of you despise. This was an attempt to show him in a different light, as a person that most of us are like. Do not deny it- we are afraid of death and pain, so it is not fair to accuse others of cowardice if they show it. There are many things told in this story, so I hope you notice them. You may flame me, but I would like any kind of review of what do you think. Thank you for sparing some time to read this!
Author's note: I'm finally back, after a long time of relaxation! My exams are now, but I divided out a bit of time to write this. This is a person a few of you wouldn't actually regard of thinking about him. Here is my point of view for his behavior, but don't blame me for supporting 'the wrong kind'.
All characters belong to J. K. Rowling.
How did I get here? I know full well.
I'm going to die soon, but I know that I will be remembered as a coward on one side, and a traitor on the other.
I sit in this small cell in Azkaban, ready to die. I'm afraid of death, you know. I'm afraid of suffering, of torture, of pain.....but aren't you too?
Many of my people take death as a noble act, but I'm too afraid to commit it. When I was small, I was brought up in such a way which was full of order. I've seen members of my family die when I was small, and that frightened me. I didn't want to die, I had a will to live.
I was educated in Durmstrang, a place which I always called home. Other great schools, Western schools, frowned upon us like we were the outcasts of Europe, but we kept our pride. We didn't mix with mudbloods anyway. I grew up among my own kind, and you may be surprised how we stick together, united in one common goal, with clever minds and ambitions which only Slytherins, besides us, possess.
When I finished my education, I met a man who had the same ideas that Durmstrang took pride of. The man was the Heir of Slytherin, under the name of Lord Voldemort. What a brilliant wizard he was! He didn't shun me or the other Durmstrang residents as outcasts, but accepted us with understanding. Next to him, I felt that there was someone else in the world that wasn't poisoned against us, people of Eastern Europe.
Unfortunately, to my horror, he was using us.
We take loyalty seriously. Too seriously, in fact, that we would die for the master. I knew something was wrong, in my sober cowardice of death.
I went to the Ministry of Magic and confessed everything. They put me in prison, until I would be judged in the court.
An incident before the court happened, was when Moody visited my prison cell before the court session.
'Igor Karkaroff, eh? From Durmstrang?' Moody had drawled.
I nodded.
' Never liked your kind. Full of Dark wizards. I never understood the Slavs, Bulgars.....' Moody spat on the floor in disgust.
I felt my fists clench in anger,' Are you here to discuss my sentence or just to enjoy throwing mud at my kind?'
Moody gave a sick, toothy grin,' Maybe both.'
I was about to argue, when he lazily put up his hand for me to stop.
'I want you to give me the names of the Death Eaters working for Voldemort,' Moody growled.
'I won't,' I answered too quickly.
Moody shrugged,' Very well then. It is your choice. But do not be surprised when you find your wife-dead.......because of some, oh so unfortunate accident of being suspected for collaborating with Voldemort.'
I frowned at this. My wife was pregnant with child, and she didn't have anything to do with Voldemort- unless she was set up by the Ministry.
'How dare you!' I hissed,' This is blackmail! You are no better than Voldemort himself!'
Moody smiled easily,' It is war, you know. We must take precautions. So, will you tell us or not?'
Fuming, I gave up,' Alright, there is-'
'Say it in front of the whole court,' Moody said, his eyes shining with sadistic glee.
Reluctantly I did. When I was dragged into the court by those horrible creatures called Dementors, I confessed Severus Snape for working with Voldemort. This inflicted badly on my image, therefore, forever giving me a name of a 'traitorous coward'. Nobody even took in the account about the little chat between Moody and me.
At first, I was reluctant. But then, when they were about to take me away, I saw the malevolent glint in Moody's eyes that shone from the darkness. It was then when I blurted out,' Wait! Severus Snape!'
I felt sorry for the poor boy, for I admired his strength concealed in his youthful features. It was to my shock, that he was actually working for Dumbledore.
I was freed, and my wife and child were spared. It was not long after that I became a Dark Arts professor in Durmstrang, and in a few years, the Headmaster himself.
Now it was more of a chess game: Hogwarts against Durmstrang, white versus black, Dumbledore against me. I was a good Headmaster, trained strong, clever wizards and witches, fit for the hostility of the outside world.
The Dark Lord had fallen, because a baby boy had defeated him: Harry Potter. How the wizarding world celebrated!
Years went by, and I grew older as I watched my son grow up and become educated in the school I call home. The time had come for Triwizard Tournament to take place. It took place in Hogwarts.
I was ready to defeat the old man by summoning up my best students to sign up to join. Among them was Viktor Krum, the school star and the Quidditch prodigy. He was favored in Durmstrang: Viktor was an intelligent boy, very skilled in sporting activities and a good soul at heart.
We had come at Hogwarts, and to my pride Viktor became the representative for Durmstrang. But the unfairness of it all! There were two representatives for Hogwarts: Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory. Madame Maxime and I fairly argumented that the underage one should be taken out. But the sly old wizard had other tricks up his sleeve: Moody was there.
The next time I was to meet this wizard I was to put a curse on him, but luckily I took control of myself because of the students. I watched him wheedle his way into saying that Potter shouldn't be disqualified. After that discussion, I led Viktor out of this room of filthy liars. If they were going to cheat, so would I. I showed Viktor the dragons and at the first round of the Tournament gave the Potter brat a few points because he deserved it.
Then, the unexpected happened- Viktor was attacked. He was found unconscious near the forest, where Harry Potter found him. I was furious. When Dumbledore arrived, I gave him a piece of my mind: how dare he let my students get attacked? They were surprised by my behavior- what did they expect, for me to resort this peacefully? Then I gave Dumbledore the worst and the truest insult he deserved.
'Here's what I think of you and your establishment!' I spat at his direction.
Then that giant the must have had his head filled with hair grabbed me by the throat and pressed me to the tree. It was then that I realised that Dumbledore had the same influence over his followers as the Dark Lord had over his.
Dumbledore was merciful, for he told the giant to put me down. No doubt to show good faith. I walked off in the other direction, summoning all the dignity I could muster from this humiliating experience. It was not long after this, my Dark Mark began to burn.
I was in a state of panic. I was so desperate, that I even broke into Severus' class during one of his lessons (a mistake that aroused suspicions). Severus wasn't friendly towards me; I understand- I would act the same way when somebody tried to betray me.
'Get it out of my sight,' Severus had hissed.
There was nothing I could do. I had to leave. But before I left, I went to visit Viktor in the Hogwarts Library. He was probably chasing that mudblood girl again, however I didn't interfere in this affair.
There he was, sitting down and reading a book on the table. I went, and sat next to him.
'Headmaster Karkaroff!' He had choked when he saw me.
'Viktor, my boy. How are you feeling?' I inquired.
'I'm fine. I'm getting ready for the third round.' He smiled. We were talking in Bulgarian, so no one understood us.
'I saw you when you dived into the Lake. I admire your attempt in Transfiguring into a shark, but that was rather dangerous,' I scolded,' Nevertheless, you did rather well. Get ready for this one- I do not want to suffer another defeat by these.......people.'
Viktor nodded in understanding. Now was the hardest part.
'Do not give up fighting. Always remember that these are the people that look upon us as outcasts. We have our pride,' I stared into his eyes, a coldness washing upon me.
'Headmaster?' Viktor had frowned, sensing something was wrong,' Why are you saying this?'
I hesitated,' Because......I know how it is, out there. Don't pretend that you haven't heard some of the Hogwarts students, especially the Gryffindors, are cold towards you.' When he nodded sadly, I continued,' There are many of these kind of people in the world. They will scorn and try to use or humiliate you, sometimes try to put their blame on you. Whatever happens, don't let them stop you.'
Viktor looked at me with soulful eyes,' Do you want me to promise to you?'
I gave a bitter smile,' Promising can always be broken: that's what the Westeners do. We, on the other hand, keep it as advice to ourselves. It works much better in the end.'
There was a quiet understanding between us, before I stood up and left. I thought it would be the last time I ever saw him again.
I went home, and gathered my wife and son to go into hiding. It was cowardly of me, most likely, but as I said- I have a great will to live. We ran off to Bulgaria, the only place we knew where to hide.
That is how it has been for three years. We lived in a small house in a forest, trying to survive ourselves. I educated my son in isolation from the wizarding world that was in war. When he was seventeen, he joined the war on the side of Light. A few weeks before the end and defeat of Voldemort, he was brought back dead to us.
How I had suffered when I had to hold the dead body of my only child in my arms! My wife, Tatiana, had wept terribly but the tears couldn't bring him back to life, nor wash away his wounds. It was then, when I saw his lifeless eyes, my will to live had disappeared too.
He was buried in my family grave back in Russia, with only a slab of marble that bore his name among the many others that withered like roses there.
A few hours after the defeat of Voldemort, my wife and I were captured by the Ministry of Magic because of 'Not joining in to fight against a common enemy- defined as cowardice and treachery'. They were probably right, but wasn't the body of my son enough?
I was judged in the court, led by the English, without the grace of being judged by my own people. This time, I didn't bother nor have the will to defend myself. Everyone had voted for guilty- the punishment was death.
So now I'm in Azkaban, waiting to be executed by a random Dementor that will consume my soul. Somewhere deep inside me, I'm afraid to die.
They are opening my cell, and in comes Minister Fudge flaked by his sidekick Percy Weasley and a Dementor.
'Igor Karkaroff,' Weasley begins in an official tone,' you are guilty of cowardice and treachery in the war.'
Where did I betray them? A Dementor swoops over me.
'You are now official accepting the punishment according to the law: death,' Weasley finishes.
The clammy hand clasps over my mouth and brings it closer to perform the Dementor's Kiss. In the background, I hear Fudge.
'As a Headmaster you should have sacrificed your life,' the hypocrite speaks, ' Dumbledore did- therefore he's more worthy than you.'
Curse Dumbledore! Curse worthiness and honor! My soul was already damned- for being born as one of the outcasts.
THE END
Author's Note: Yes, I know, it was Igor Karkaroff, a wizard most of you despise. This was an attempt to show him in a different light, as a person that most of us are like. Do not deny it- we are afraid of death and pain, so it is not fair to accuse others of cowardice if they show it. There are many things told in this story, so I hope you notice them. You may flame me, but I would like any kind of review of what do you think. Thank you for sparing some time to read this!
