Magic isn't destructive. Not like fire. Or even guns. Or bombs. Or words. Magic is a healing power. It soothes the soul and mends the mind. It caresses the body, wrapping it in a warmth like none other.
Magic is not evil. No. Never.
He clutches the sobbing child in his arms, running his hands through the curly red locks, trying to sooth away his fears.
"H-Harry, you l-look so STUPID." He laughs, earning a glare from the emerald eyed boy. "Seriously mate. My uniform is like 5 sizes too large. It makes you look like a toddler."
He remembers the fear, and the pain. Oh so much pain. Cutting Curse. Decorating his face, like it was a game to him.
"C'mon, it's just one? Didn't you ever drink?" He tossed the boy an ice cold bottle. "Just open and chug. If you do it, you'll officially be a man, like me."
"Don't touch him." He snarls. "Just get lost." He almost snorts. He was standing face to face with the 'Dark Lord'. Really, the Dark Lord? Who came up with this crap? He was just a boy. No. Now he was a man.
"…One day, when we're grown up and out of this place. We'll live together, okay? Just us. No girls. No parents. Just two best friends, okay?"
Long jet black locks swirls around in the wind, making him look inhumane. Jades eyes and a scarred face. His sneer looks oh so out of place. Oh so much power.
'Hey, Harry, you're my best friend right? Nothing will ever come between us? Promise me this, kay?"
"You knew this day would come." His voice is hollow.
'You're dead to me."
A child's scream fills the air. And then, nothing.
He was swayed by his charm, and he couldn't free himself."