Disclaimer: Harry Potter obviously does not belong to me but this plot does. I am just a lowly writer using the characters created by JK Rowling to tell this story.
THE BATTLE
Fear was a relative concept. It was a contradiction in itself. How is fearing life different than fearing death? How does a fear of happiness differ from the fear of loneliness?
I smirked, spitting out the blood lining my mouth, its residue splattering art across the tiles below my feet. What was fear but not a challenge? One to overcome and conquer?
I leaned against the graffiti adorned wall, drinking in the polluted air as sustenance. At least I could still breathe. The full moon did nothing to hide me yet I was invisible. My name held no value in this field. Here I was just another battered body. My blood soaked trench coat fluttered in an imitation of a flag signaling a warning to those who weren't prudent enough to become blind. The blackened eyes gracing my face denied attempts to open. I sucked in the frosty air through my mouth, tainting it with the sweet taste of blood. I smirked. At least I could still breath.
Clenching my hands painfully, I became aware of the slow creeping of frost into my wounds, the holes in my clothing doing nothing to prevent its progress. Oh well, I sighed. I knew I was alive as long as the pain could be felt.
I pried my numb fingers from the throat of my victim, my comrades following my direction. Rising to my feet I examined the battlefield. My swaying body inadequate to determine the outcome of the bloodshed below.
Our first step onto the battlefield re-wrote our destiny. We became one entity, an entity that feared. Feared life. Feared death. Feared the joy of taking blood. And feared the tears shed while taking it. Heart, courage, nobility; Gryffindor emotions, had no place in such a place.
They turn to face me, my comrade in arms, hoping that I will relieve them of their guilt. My mouth once again formed the parody of a smile. You can cage your guilt and feed it until it grows into the monster that will ravage your soul. I don't give a damn.
At least I know that I've become a heartless bastard. That in itself will ensure my survival.
