A God Among Men
A Bellatrix Lestrange story. Bella Apologizes. Dark-fic
Written for a 'Sounds' competition
I do not own. All characters belong to JK Rowling. Blah blah blah.
Voices are screaming, some at me, some shouting off spells at opponents, some crying out for a lost love.
And I am running. So fast and hard that I can't see anything around me. I pass dozens of people, but all I see is a blur of colors. I can't tell the difference between my enemies and those on my side.
Looking back, I begin to wonder how I got here. How everything got so screwed up.
If you had asked me twenty years ago where I saw myself in twenty years, this would not have been the answer.
I would have said that I didn't know. Maybe a medic. Or an Auror, but probably not. Too much fighting
But not this. Never this. Not fighting for my life against people I once upon a time agreed with.
If you had asked me if I could see myself killing someone, the answer would have been no. No hesitation, no debate. Never in a million years would I kill someone.
And here's the thing.
For the first thirty-seven years of my life, I never did. I never killed a person.
One time, I came close. I came this close to murdering Frank and Alice Longbottom.
Why? As the question I had asked myself for the longest time. Why was I going to kill them?
And then I remembered.
Because he asked me to.
The Dark Lord Voldemort. Our lord and savior.
For the longest time I believed in all he preached.
"They're ruining magic," he'd said. "You may not see it yet, but they are burrowing their way into our world, distorting our blood. In the end, magic will be destroyed, with no one left with pure magic running through their veins. No one left to carry on the legacy of our people."
At the time it had seemed to true. Every word he'd uttered made perfect sense. How could we let them destroy our world?
And so I followed him, every step of the way.
But I never killed. Not once. Because it wasn't me. It didn't matter that I followed him blindly; I would not change myself for him.
But I had come so close. Torturing the Longbottoms had been fun. That's what scared me. Hearing their screams, being the cause of it, it was a major adrenaline rush.
And just as I was about to do the deed, there was something else.
A sound I had not heard before.
Wailing.
It was not loud, but just loud enough.
I followed the crying into one of the rooms of the Longbottom home.
There, lying in his crib, was a small baby boy, barely a year old.
And that's why I didn't kill them. I could not take this boy's parents from him. I couldn't.
Of course, I was punished immensely for it. The Dark Lord tortured me for hours.
And then a few days later, Aurors captured me, sent me to Azkaban.
I fought them off, but in the end, I let them win. Because I knew, I had to pay for what I did.
But I never stopped believing. Fourteen years I spent in Azkaban and I never lost sight of what the Lord had said. I had faith that my time would come. I would be freed and I would have my chance to shine like the stars above.
And that I did.
I escaped and I rose above the rest.
I killed the dog-man and they viewed me as a queen. I had done something no other had done that day. I had killed one of Boy Wonders little friends.
But he had been my cousin. Even a friend at one point in time. A friend who had died a needless death.
But in a way, it had been the most important death of this war. To me.
His death had showed me two things that day.
That I could kill a man, someone I knew even, with little regret.
It had also shown me what this war really was.
Maybe it had been a coincidence, because it wasn't the act itself that showed me.
But as he fell into the curtain of death, the only sound that could be heard was his last laugh, his last breath; that was when I had my epiphany.
This war was not about preserving magic. It never was.
It was like Molly had told me when we were kids.
"Kill a man and you're an assassin. Kill millions of men and you're a conquer. Kill everyone and you're a God. Jean Rostand said that."
I don't remember why she'd said it, but it stuck.
That's what this war was about. That's all it was ever about. Becoming God.
But my epiphany didn't matter.
I knew the truth, but that didn't change anything.
They say you learn something new everyday.
But what I learned that day, I learned twenty years to late.
I was now an assassin.
And I was on my way to becoming a conquer.
Now here I am, running for my life, trying to find higher ground.
And all sounds disappear. All that can be heard is the sound of my shoes and hers, hitting the ground in perfect synchrony.
And then I stop. There is no use in running any further. I turn back to the woman I once called friend, and I smiled.
And for a time, colors flew through the air, back and forth between us.
Then, somehow, she gained the upper hand.
A green light hits me square in the chest and I can imagine the look on my face must be complete shock, as I fall to the ground.
It is not an instant death. No. It is agonizingly slow, my heart pumping in my ears, shoving all other sound away. And the redheaded woman is standing over me, waiting for my last breath.
I have to say something. But what?
What do you say when you've killed you're best friend's son. When you're best friend has just killed you.
"I'm sorry," I exhale.
Not because I killed her son.
Because she killed me.
She now knows the thrill of death and it will no doubt consume her.
That is a fate I never would have wished upon her.
I have to say, after all is said and done, if I was given the chance of going back and changing the last twenty years of my life…
I never would.
Not in a million years.
Because where I'm going…
I will be a God.
Reviews are wonderful.
Ella