If you wish to know peace, you must come to know pain
- Teachings of a Ronin by Zach Hemsey
"H-how can you do this?" An old, dying man wheezed, blue eyes that once sparkled with secrets and light now dull with pain and shock. His silver beard was drenched with crimson blood, his mouth broken and split. He clutched at his belly, slippery insides peeking out through his fingers. "How can you b-betray us in this way?" His body racked with coughing, he stared down at the floor, a sense of despair engulfing his fallen form.
"Albus...Percival….Wulfric….Brian….Dumbledore…." The voice that spoke next was silvery and sweet, the barest hint of a giggle lining her words. Delicate, yet heavy, boots ghosted over the carpeted floor of his office, the rest of the room so silent you could hear a pin drop. "The greatest wizard of our age…" The voice quoted, legs clad in tight black leather, silver buckles and zippers flashing in the flickering orange light of a single candle and the light of a dying phoenix. "How the mighty have fallen!" There was manic glee in her voice and for the barest of moments, he expected her to burst into laughter.
Yet, all she did was saunter slowly around his office, idly poking here and there, picking up items and setting them down. It was with a bitter sense of defeat that he realized she was toying with him because she knew he would not live. Not in this lifetime.
"Why do all of th-this?" He choked out, following her with his eyes, dreadful tiredness weighing down his limbs. His eyes dragged but he did not give in, clinging to life with a stubborn old man's experience.
"I do this…because I can." Her voice was a low croon of darkness and delight and it struck him to his core. How could they not have seen this revealing before their very eyes? The innocent little girl that had arrived at Hogwarts seven years ago…she was not so innocent now. "I do this because you never saved me, despite all that I had gone through and continued to go through before and after you found me! Yet you still asked me to save you, all of you when I couldn't even save myself!" The playfulness had left her, leaving a broken and cruel hiss in its place.
And he could not argue because it was true. He had been so blinded from reality by his expectations…how could he not have seen the pain she was going through? How could none of them have seen what her so-called family was doing to her? What had there been to explain the flinching and the quiet, meek manner of behavior that was so unlike even the shyest of her peers?
Her booted feet appeared before his eyes and he slowly dragged his gaze upwards, past the silver buckles and zippers on the black leather pants, past the clinging top with a plunging neckline, past the throat elegantly encircled with a velvet choker, past the two deadly sword hilts peaking up over each slender shoulder, past the sharp jaw, the full red mouth, the high cheekbones and settling upon…settling upon glittering emerald eyes.
There was darkness in those eyes that did not belong…that had never belonged…not until they had pushed her too far…asked too much…and gave too little in return.
Was it a mistake, he wondered, to have trained her as best they could have? Was it a mistake, to have handed her over to Severus Snape, no questions asked? Was that their downfall? Was it something else?
"You wonder how I could have fallen so far?" She crooned softly, kneeling down in the pool of blood surrounding his frail old body. She reached out and gently cupped his chin, some tenderness long forgotten flickering in her gaze as she looked down upon him. "You want to know how the monster I am today came to be?"
In his weakness, he nodded and she flung her head back and laughed. It was a broken, harsh sound, her slender shoulders shaking with the force. He coughed, a ragged, choked sound that cut the manic laughter off so that she turned a contemplative gaze upon him.
In one quick and vicious movement, she grasped a fistful of his blood-soaked beard and began to drag him across the room. He gave a choked cry of pain, feeble hands tightening around his waist. He could not do anything, so drained of magic, was he. Hopeless, helpless tears streamed from his broken eyes and he opened his mouth to give a cry but she had crossed the room and flung the door open, leaning precariously over the edge and shouting down below.
"He wants to know the truth!" There was glee in her voice and he felt dread once more as she carelessly released his beard, allowing his head to collide roughly with the rough stone below before leaping onto the ledge and flinging herself forward, a quick flick of her wrist bringing him magically floating down with her.
The girl landed lightly upon the floor and spun on a delicate heel, long black cloak billowing impressively out behind her. She struck a striking figure with angular ears, delicate features and a hood clinging to hair of the darkest black. Surrounding her were people dressed in robes similar to the harsh, seductive military style that she wore, only they all wore masks of bone white.
As one, they swept into bows but she strode past them without a second look back, Albus floating along behind her. She set a brisk pace, nearly running through the castle corridors with a long, fluid stride that seemed unnaturally graceful. She swung around corner after corner and horror choked his throat when he realized they were headed straight for the Great Hall.
The children….What had become of the children that lived in the castle?
The attack had happened so suddenly, in the dead of the night. There were no announcements at the door, it was simply a calm, peaceful night until he had been unceremoniously dragged out of bed and dumped on the floor before being beat mercilessly. He hadn't had the time to use his magic, not until- His mind flinched away from the memory and he distracted himself from the pain by looking towards the large double doors.
Inside the Great Hall were children, packed tightly inside like cornered prey. His heart clenched in his chest and he tried to convey a sense of strength in himself but he was too broken, too beaten, too bloody…too close to death.
Gasps and moans of horror and despair circled the room when he was spotted but she gave no sign of hearing or caring about the chaos around her. Instead, she strode forward resolutely, strength and confidence in the strong line of her shoulders and the tilt of her elegant jaw. She strode closer until she reached the stairs and glided up them and straight towards…Voldemort.
The disgusting man was bone white, two slits in place of a nose, crimson eyes locked gleefully upon Albus's broken and bleeding body.
"I sssseeeee you had funnn, my dear." Voldemort hissed in a high, cold, cruel tone. She gave him a beatific smile that lit up her face and gave her an angelic beauty.
"Of course I did, Marvolo." She lovingly graced his name with a slight coo. Her eyes lingered proudly over his face, seeing the effect her blood had wrought upon his form. "I thank you for allowing me this opportunity, cousin. I have wanted to bash his insufferable face in since…well, I can't quite pin the time down but who cares?" There was madness in her gaze, as alien and broken as the look in her cousin's. They were a broken pair and Dumbledore couldn't help but realize that he could have prevented their pain, both of theirs if only he had looked closer.
When Tom had been a child, Dumbledore had treated him as an adult fully aware of his actions instead of as a systematically abused child that knew only violence and the effect it could have on others. With her…she had been raised in a situation that was as bad as Tom's but she had held on to her inner light and innocence for the longest time…until the day that she could hold on no longer and broke, shattered into the insanity that he could have prevented. He should have prevented.
"Of course, how could I deny your wish?" Voldemort gave a rabid grin that was more a baring of his teeth. "This monster that masquerades as a wise old man deserves everything you give him. Why are you here and not off torturing him?" The question was idle, there was no threat in his voice. He had corrupted his little cousin and she had bloomed in the darkness at his side. She was not merely a Death Eater…no, she was Death's Master.
"He wants to know the truth." There was significance in her words and he paused before turning to her. His slender white fingers lovingly caressed his wand and he narrowed his eyes.
"The truth?" Voldemort hissed and she nodded her head with a wild grin.
"Shall I give it to him? To all of them?" She swept her hand in a delicate arch around the room, manic energy in her expression as she moved from foot to foot, long black cloak swirling around her ankles. "Shall I tell them how close they came to having their Savior…and just how they lost her to the darkness?" There was a dark plead in her voice.
She wanted to show them this, to experience their pain as the full realization hit them in all the ways they had forsaken the young girl and driven her down this dark path.
"Perhapssss….yessss….this is how we destroy them once and for all. There will be no rebellion once we show them the full and unbroken truth. Luciusssss, bring me my Penssssieve." Voldemort ordered of his most loyal follower. With a bow and a swirl of expensive silk, the elegant blonde swept away to fetch his master's revenge.
Voldemort turned to his little cousin and hissed at her, a wordless sound that instantly caught her attention. She snapped her head around and fixed her glittering emerald gaze to his crimson stare, a mocking smile curling on her full mouth.
"Shall we have fun with the children?" Voldemort offered and she darted forward a tiny step, her excitement betrayed in the quivering of her body.
"May I?" She asked respectfully and with a wave of his hand, she was unleashed. She darted forward, towards the huddled children and sauntered playfully back and forth before her hand shot out, quick as a striking viper and closed around the wrist of a tall, freckled red-headed boy's arm. "Eeenie, meenie, miney, moe…I think I'll catch this Lion by his toe…" There was insanity in her high-pitched giggle and horror widened his blue eyes.
"N-no! NO! Please! We are friends-"
"We usssed to be friendssssss!" She hissed, cutting off his pleading with a clenched hand at his throat. He choked, his eyes widening with horror at the unnatural strength coursing through her. He could see the pale skin under her hood but it wasn't until she impatiently shook it back that he could see the full extent to which she had fallen.
Delicate fangs curved from her canine teeth, gently dimpling her lower lip. They were slender but wickedly sharp, as proven by the small drop of crimson blood beading up from her lower lip before tumbling down her chin and leaving a streak behind.
"You did thisss to me! And now you will pay!" She hissed in his face and with no ceremony, she yanked his head back and reared her head before burying her fangs in his throat. His body gave a sharp jerk of pain as she gulped greedily, paying no heed to his desperate gurgles, blood bubbling up at his mouth. "You were supposed to be my friend but you betrayed me when I could not make you my lover…" She whispered gently in his ear, her voice carrying through the room as if it were magnified. "I wanted to but I did not know how to give anything other than the innocent love a child to her friend…you took it the wrong way and you destroyed me. Face the truth, Ronald Weasley…You began this all…" There was a catch in her voice, one born of grief and she stared into his eyes, the glittering emerald of her own now tainted with blood red. "You were supposed to be my friend and you helped break me instead." She shoved him away with disgust and turned, scanning the crowd, something resembling grief twisting her face.
"Where are you?" She spat, snarling and pacing like a caged panther. "Where are you, little bookworm?"
"I'm here…and I'm not afraid of you." Hermione Granger's voice rung out in the silent hall and with a quick, twisting motion, she spun to face the one she had once called a sister. "I'm sorry we hurt you," Hermione's voice shook but she continued bravely speaking, staring at the now-unrecognizable girl standing in front of her. "But I never did this intentionally. I love him and I didn't know the extent of your feelings." The Gryffindor held her head up proudly despite the terrified shaking of her body.
"You think I believe that? You saw that I loved him and so you took him for yourself. You had never won anything from anyone, the poor little bookworm and I made you my friend! You saw the uncertain and fumbling love I carried for him and you wanted it so you took advantage of him and you stole him away. I couldn't understand the pain that tore through my body, wrecked my soul when I found out you two were dating because I had never experienced true betrayal. Sure, my family beat me on a daily basis but that was all I had ever known from them so it was no true betrayal, merely abuse. But from you…I had known kindness and friendship and sisterly love…until you took all of that away from me. That friendship and sense of family were my armor against the cold and the dark and you stripped me bare and threw me to the wolves." Her voice shook with darkness and pain and anger and Hermione flinched. "You were supposed to support me and help me…not drive me further into the arms of the searching darkness."
The silence stretched in the great hall, tense and fraught with horror, surprise, and terror.
"I never meant to hurt you." The truth rang in Hermione's whisper but it only served to enrage her as she flew forward.
"You lie!" She shrieked and grasped a fistful of bushy brown hair, dragging the other girl over to the fallen body of Ronald Weasley. "Now I will kill you together." With a cold gaze, she placed her foot on his neck and crushed his windpipe, watching with a dispassionate gaze as he choked and the life fled his blue eyes.
"No!" Hermione shrieked, struggling to get free but ultimately helpless. "You monster!" She sobbed and cold lips touched her ear.
"I am the monster of your creation! All of you from this group of so-called Light! You were supposed to shelter and protect me because I was a child but instead…you exploited me and abused me far worse than anything the Dursley's ever could! You showed me kindness and peace and then you tore it all away and for that! That I can never forgive." She spun Hermione around and placed her hands around the other girl's throat, baring her teeth in a wicked grin, fangs glistening with blood. "Say hello to Ronald for me." And with a quick wrench of her wrists, the life fled from yet another body.
"My lord, I have the Pensieve." Lucius Malfoy proclaimed, brandishing the silver bowl and carrying it to Voldemort.
"Marvolo! Allow me?" She spun on a heel and presented him with large, pleading eyes. He graced her with a fond grin, all the more twisted because of his reptilian features.
"Of course, little cousin." She gave a delighted squeal and danced up the steps, pausing briefly by Voldemort's side before scooping the Pensieve from the blonde's arms and setting it gently down upon a pedestal created with an effortless wave of her hand. She tapped a symbol on the side that represented Widespread Knowledge, creating a rippling screen of smoke that solidified into a black screen that awaited memories in the Pensieve.
"Students of Hogwarts!" She spun and presented them with a wide, demented grin and open arms. "I present you with the truth of how this day came to be. Listen closely, one and all because this is how I, Honora "Honey" Lily Potter, came to be the one known as Death's Master." With another flourish of her hand, she drew her silver memories out of her head and deposited them into a bowl, the screen clouding over before clearing into a memory of a quiet kitchen but that wasn't to last for very long.
Honey Potter crossed the color to Dumbledore's side and bent down, whispering low in his ear, "Watch closely, old man, for you are about to see what started it all….." And with horror, he saw.
"You disgust me!" The large, heavy-set blonde man with hardly any neck spat out. His blue eyes glared with hate as he wrinkled his mustached mouth with a snarl. It was…sickening, to say the least. Especially since the hateful expression…was directed at a child.
…How was she supposed to know the reasons behind his hate? She was barely eight, how could she be anything other than terrified and confused?
It was disgusting to see him treat a child in such a way but it only got worse. He raised a thick, meaty fist and brought it across Honey Potter's face in a quick, vicious motion. With a low cry similar to that of a wounded animal, she collapsed at his feet, emerald eyes screwed shut in pain. Her hands swung reflexively up to cup her swollen and throbbing cheek carefully, hot and salty tears spilling out with no warning.
"You! With all that freakishness you parade about! You think it is funny to make my boy break a swing set?! You think it is funny to turn his face red?! How dare you? After I took you in and tried to raise you right?" His eyes were wild as he rained blow after blow upon the child, teeth bared in a vicious snarl and blonde strands of hair flying out of the neat side part. He punctuated each sentence with another brutal blow until the little girl was curled in on herself, choking on blood and trembling with shock.
She…did not know how to handle this situation and with nothing else to turn to, her body slowly dragged her into the dark, seductive arms of sleep.
….And that was only the beginning…