AN/DISCLAIMER: Oh, well, as most of you should know already, everything except the idea of this fic does belong to J. K. Rowling / Warner Bros. / Scholastic / whatever else. Not to me (except the idea)! And I doubt they would even want this one. Dedicated to Hydrana Evila and PikaCheeka. I still have much to learn from you! I wrote this mainly because I always wanted to write something like this and because I wanted to prove myself that I can write nearly anything if I want. And before you read, look at the rating. I don't want to lose any potential readers for my other fics by terrifying them to death.
Untitled…
by Luinthoron
We won. They're all dead. The mighty Harry Potter, the mud-blood Granger, the Weasleys, all of them. The Dark Lord is now the ultimate ruler of the wizarding world. Even Dumbledore didn't survive his attack.
I should be happy. This should be the best day since I graduated three years ago and became a Death Eater. But I'm not.
I have seen more deaths than a single person should. I have seen too much destruction, heard too many cries. I'm not the same naive little boy I was anymore.
Too many people have died to forget them. Not only my enemies, but my friends too. People I knew once died before my eyes. Or fell, fighting by my side against the Aurors. And the worst part is I killed many of them myself. Not all Slytherins became Death Eaters, and some of us became even Aurors. I know that it was either they die, or I do, but still it hurts, it hurts more than anyone can handle.
And I feel the guilt. I killed them by becoming a Death Eater, even those that actually others killed. I feel sad when everyone else is celebrating. Or at least, everyone else alive is. But the dead haunt my soul. I see Weasley, Ron was his name, I believe, crying by his friends that were killed by Voldemort. And I see myself using the Killing Curse to end his tears. I see the remaining Aurors brought in front of the Dark Lord so he can torture them for his sadistic pleasure.
And I cried. For the first time since I was a baby I cried. A Malfoy doesn't cry, said my father. But I didn't care anymore. People passing by could have thought I cried tears of joy. But the truth was, there was no joy left in the world after we won. And there were no people left to pass by. I ran through the Forbidden Forest to keep myself hidden. I didn't want to see them anymore. The cold, ruthless faces of the people I belong to. People like my father and the Dark Lord.
And suddenly I came to a halt. I started to feel their pain, the feelings of all those we, I had killed. The innocent children in the Muggle schools, the young wizards at Hogwarts, the Muggle-loving wizards at the Ministry. Nobody cared, as the world, once so beautiful, was now inhabitated only by Death Eaters.
There was no place left for me in this world. For I did care. I was the only one who still did. I grasped my dagger. There was no way back. I was the only one who cared, and everything, everyone I cared for was dead. Dark blood ran down to my fingers, dark as my soul. The darkness was leaving me so I could step to the light. I don't think I did the right thing, but I couldn't live either. Not on this world full of darkness.
I died.
Untitled…
by Luinthoron
We won. They're all dead. The mighty Harry Potter, the mud-blood Granger, the Weasleys, all of them. The Dark Lord is now the ultimate ruler of the wizarding world. Even Dumbledore didn't survive his attack.
I should be happy. This should be the best day since I graduated three years ago and became a Death Eater. But I'm not.
I have seen more deaths than a single person should. I have seen too much destruction, heard too many cries. I'm not the same naive little boy I was anymore.
Too many people have died to forget them. Not only my enemies, but my friends too. People I knew once died before my eyes. Or fell, fighting by my side against the Aurors. And the worst part is I killed many of them myself. Not all Slytherins became Death Eaters, and some of us became even Aurors. I know that it was either they die, or I do, but still it hurts, it hurts more than anyone can handle.
And I feel the guilt. I killed them by becoming a Death Eater, even those that actually others killed. I feel sad when everyone else is celebrating. Or at least, everyone else alive is. But the dead haunt my soul. I see Weasley, Ron was his name, I believe, crying by his friends that were killed by Voldemort. And I see myself using the Killing Curse to end his tears. I see the remaining Aurors brought in front of the Dark Lord so he can torture them for his sadistic pleasure.
And I cried. For the first time since I was a baby I cried. A Malfoy doesn't cry, said my father. But I didn't care anymore. People passing by could have thought I cried tears of joy. But the truth was, there was no joy left in the world after we won. And there were no people left to pass by. I ran through the Forbidden Forest to keep myself hidden. I didn't want to see them anymore. The cold, ruthless faces of the people I belong to. People like my father and the Dark Lord.
And suddenly I came to a halt. I started to feel their pain, the feelings of all those we, I had killed. The innocent children in the Muggle schools, the young wizards at Hogwarts, the Muggle-loving wizards at the Ministry. Nobody cared, as the world, once so beautiful, was now inhabitated only by Death Eaters.
There was no place left for me in this world. For I did care. I was the only one who still did. I grasped my dagger. There was no way back. I was the only one who cared, and everything, everyone I cared for was dead. Dark blood ran down to my fingers, dark as my soul. The darkness was leaving me so I could step to the light. I don't think I did the right thing, but I couldn't live either. Not on this world full of darkness.
I died.