Pain. White, searing pain bathed me like a soothing bath, only instead of water I felt as if I were in a tub of boiling lava.
As I soaked in the beautiful pain soft, loving hands gently ripped me apart.
Carefully they broke my fingers one by one, they gently peeled the skin off of my body and stuck needles in my eyes, then they reached in my open mouth, down my screaming throat, and rubbed it raw with sandpaper.
'I have to stay sane' I think to myself.
Desperately I think of something to cling to, something to think of to keep my mind going.
What could I think of?
This is the very essence of pain, boiled down into a single word.
'Crucio' -that's the word.
Am I insane? Probably.
How can one little word cause such pain?
Magic! That's it!
But that's crazy, magic cannot exist.
It's alright though, I'm crazy too, right?
After a few moments contemplation I decide that magic is real.
After all, the evidence is currently peeling off my skin and sanding down my throat.
I would rather have a frontal lobotomy than a bottle in front of me. Or was that the other way 'round?
And where was I anyhow?
Ah, yes, magic.
Interesting stuff, magic.
It is all around us, inside everyone and everything, it is the force that makes the universe work, and everyone has it, but only some can use it.
You can use it to balance a melon on your head while playing hopscotch and juggling flaming knives.
That sounds fun, I'll have to try it sometime.
How did I get here?
Magic, that's what I am thinking about, it is my life raft out at sea, amidst this hurricane of pain.
Such pain, as if I had just slid down a 40 foot razor into a vat of alcohol.
So much pain.. NO, think of magic.
Fascinating stuff, this magic.
It follows commands, but you have to be careful what commands you give it.
Why is that? I ponder it for a moment.
I like Fudge, at least some kinds of fudge.
The gooey kind that you eat is nice, but the short, fat kind that walks around in a hat more than makes up for it.
What was I thinking of?
Magic!
You have to be careful what you tell magic to do, because it will do exactly what you tell it to, that's why most magic uses a wand.
Roses are red, violets are blue, I am cracked, and so am I.
Where was I?
Wands!
Little pointy things made of wood that are used for spells.
Spells are why you use a wand to do magic, right?
A spell is a broad command given to magic, and a wand gives it a direction to go.
I would really like to have a wand right now, but I can't reach mine.
Too bad.
Where was I?
Magic! Yes, magic! Maybe I can use magic to get my wand.
On the lawn of no. 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, England lay two pieces of wood, they used to be a single piece of wood, holly to be exact, with a phoenix feather.
But this was no ordinary piece of wood with a feather, this was a wand, specifically Harry Potter's.
Anyone passing by would probably not have noticed such a small stick normally, and they definitely would not have noticed now, since it was dark outside.
The owner of said wand writhing in agony on the ground would have drawn the attention of any onlookers away from it anyhow, assuming they could see either the boy or the broken wand.
Catching sight of Harry Potter at that moment would have been the last thing on the mind of any observers, since his screams combined with the ghostly visages of the ten figures surrounding him would have frightened all but the bravest away.
Each of the ten figures surrounding him wore a long black cloak and hood, and all but one of them wore a skull-like white mask.
The last thing -for it was clearly not human- wore no mask, but it's skin was so pale you would normally not notice.
You would, however, notice it's eyes, for they glowed as red as the firelight glinting off of them.
Lord Voldemort looked up at the burning house that used to be number 4, and then to his right at three dark mounds on the ground outside the circle.
Upon closer inspection you would notice that the mounds were three human corpses.
One thin woman and two heavyset men lay dead on the lawn, looks of horror etched forever on their dead faces.
As the monster with glowing eyes took in the scene he laughed.
In his hand he held a wand, which he pointed at the boy on the ground and a beam of red light went from the tip of his wand to the boy.
He listened to the boy scream and watched him writhe on the ground in agony, and he laughed harder.
As he laughed the light grew brighter and the screams increased.
Soon this scrawny, black haired, green eyed whelp would be out of the way, and no one would dare challenge Lord Voldemort!!
Suddenly the screams turned to a strangled gurgle and the boy said a single word. "Come."
As soon as the word was uttered Voldemort's wand sprang from his hand of it's own accord, and flew to the hand of the boy, where it emitted a shower of gold and white sparks, and, for a moment, silence reigned the night.
The silence only lasted for a moment.
Voldemort snatched a wand from the grasp of the robed figure on his right.
He leveled it at the me and screamed "Avada Kedavra!"
I chuckled to myself. 'the supposedly unstoppable killing curse actually has nothing to do with killing.' I thought to myself.
The instructions he just gave to magic literally translate 'let this thing be destroyed'
he didn't even specify me. he just gave the magic a direction to travel until it finds something to destroy.
Where was I? Oh yes, there is a green ball of light flying towards me.
Here is the dangerous thing about fighting with magic: you have two people giving magical commands at each other - not a big deal normally - but if two commands cross paths they have to fulfill each other, or someone gets a nasty backlash.
The reason that most wizards think the so-called 'killing curse' is unblockable is that they have simply not tried a command that gives it magical neutrality.
In more scientific terms if A(s) + D(s) 0 than nothing happens.
Usually what happens when someone casts an AK is something like this.
A(ak) + D(something stupid) D-1
What happened last time was this.
A(ak) + D(sheer luck) V-1
Oh dear, I have begun rambling to myself again, where was I?
Ah, yes! I was just about to short circuit Voldemort's panic button.
"Avis" I croaked out, waving the wand formerly known as Voldemort's.
Basically I just told magic 'Hey, create a flock of birds here'
Fortunately for me it worked.
I know now what people's faces looked like when Christopher Columbus suggested that the world is round.
The same mixture of stupidity, incomprehension, and disbelief is on Voldemort's face right now.
If he forgets to breathe for much longer he will faint, and I don't want that, this is just getting fun!
"Aguamenti"
I croaked out again, making a jet of water squirt out of my new wand, After spraying Voldemort in the face , I soaked all of the death eaters too.
If Voldemort was about to faint so were they, right?
"Crucio!" Voldemort shrieked
I yawned.
Here I was, thinking that I was insane.
I was wrong, I'm only slightly mad.
Attempting the same thing twice and expecting different results is insanity, and Voldemort is as crazy as a march hare.
Ah well, if he wants different results I should probably arrange that.
"Serpentsoia" I croaked, and a cobra sprang from my wand, right into the jet of light speeding towards me.
There is a lesson to be learned here, I ponder it for a moment over Voldemort's screams.
Having a cobra repeatedly bite you in the groin is painful?
Catchy, but no.
Beware the backlash if you don't balance spells with your opponent?
I'm sure it is true, and it may be part of the lesson, but for some reason I think there is more to it than that.
Little monsters who play with snakes get bitten?
I like it, it is profound, and to the point, yet it is somehow incomplete.
Never stand in front of an angry cobra!
That's it!
Perhaps not?
I don't know, but it is close enough for me!
My, my! Is he still screaming?
That is tiresome.
One would think that a big, strong Dark Lord like Voldemort would get over having his family jewels perforated faster than this.
Is he trying to prove that he can make more noise than anyone else?
I know how to make noise!
"Flugaritis!"
I incant, pointing my wand at the offending noisemaker.
Looking down at the ten smoking bodies I ponder the situation.
There is another lesson to be learned here, but what is it?
Never annoy a guy who just set his own house on fire with a lightning bolt while you are standing in a puddle of water?
Nah! That's too long...
The end?
That's it!!
or is it?
I don't know.
do you know?
who knows?