Dancing

ObsidianEbony

Summary: Avada Kedavra: His favorite spell.

Created: 11/8/08

Disclaimer: I do not, have not, nor will be the creator, publisher, producer…of any Harry Potter media besides the fanfics I write.

OoOoOoOoOoO!!

When I was young, just a mere boy of fourteen, I learned of the truth of the world…from an intoxicated beggar in London's slums. "There's no such thing as good and evil, ya damn brat. There's only power and those pieces of shit that were too weak to look for it, like me." After pondering the man's words for awhile, I realized that this was true. Hadn't Lord Malfoy, father of one of my 'friends' and the most influential man on the Wizengamot, said that power to a politician was the same as blood is to a vampire?

And so I plotted, and I schemed. Countless hours of study and 'socializing' had gone to contribute to the power I have today. Back when I attended Hogwarts, I built myself a reputation as the handsomest, most brilliant student in the history of Hogwarts. I even set free the ancient basilisk that had dwelled in the Chamber of Secrets! Hagrid, the school's scapegoat, had been a necessary sacrifice. I would've killed him off anyway. Now, unknown to Dumbledore and Potter, the half-giant is under my control, sporting a small Dark Mark underneath that massive bushel of hair and taking orders under a long-lasting Imperius.

But I digress. After I graduated, I appealed to Dumbledore, who had back then been made Headmaster, for a position as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Such a career would've ensured that no one would suspect my revolution. After all, who would accuse the very teacher who taught against the Dark Arts?

But alas, Dumbledore had refused and I had been sent away, disappointed. After all, Hogwarts, with its mysterious aura and illustrious history, was the place I called home. It had been the perfect "haven", all I ever dreamed of: magic, good food, intelligent mentors…Hogwarts had had it all.

I vowed my vengeance against Dumbledore. For many years, I embedded myself in ancient, forgotten arts, learning the mystical and forbidden techniques of the wizards of old.

In the process of strengthening myself, I had mastered the "Unforgivables". 'Unforgivable' is such a crude term for the three loveliest incantations in creation.


Imperio, the ruler's curse…

Ancient kings and emperors had once used it to bind a favored slave. If one was talented and strong enough, the Imperius would last for as long as the caster wanted or even give the caster control over multiple people.

I have never been subjected to the Imperius myself. Those I had asked in my youth had said that it felt like pure ecstasy, the ultimate soother. One girl had said it had felt like the ocean waves, repetitively dragging itself forwards and back into the sea, taking you with it on its lethargic journey. It has been said that you feel no sense of responsibility at all when you are subjected to its might.

The Imperius Curse was truly a dominating spell. It demanded complete and utter obedience from the victim. The spell was a rich royal blue, the color of kings and generals.

The only known exception to its effects is Potter. How such a weakling had the willpower to defend himself escapes me entirely! The boy is a coward, always hiding behind the back of Dumbledore and using petty tricks to evade me. I, for one, hardly believe that love (such a foolish concept) can defeat me, the greatest Lord of all time!

I could never understand why the Wizarding World views it as such a horrifying spell. After all, they too once used it freely.


Crucio…the tomentor's curse…

Countless authoritarian kings had used the Cruciatus to punish disobedient slaves and servants. It gave one the feeling of ultimate pain with its astonishing ability to set nerves on liquid fire. How many minds had snapped after too much pain? How many throats had been screamed raw?

To use it, you have to "want to cause pain" as dear Bellatrix once told Potter. You have to want to crush that person's will, to make them feel as if the apocalypse has come, as if the world is melting into nothingness.

Frank Longbottom and Alice Longbottom have been the strongest so far. Even though their minds had cracked and their bodies reduced to blubbering masses, they had put up the longest fight.

It is astonishing, the intricacy and brutality of the curse. No one but I have noticed the small strands of magic that creep up a person's body and the viciousness those strands possess when spearing into the nerves of the body. If one is skilled enough, the strands can actually pierce into the skin and spill blood. Bellatrix is one of the few in this world that can accomplish this, though she has only done this once.


Avada Kedavra…my favorite spell in the world…

Originally, healers used it to put a patient too far gone out of their misery. Eventually, darker minds had given it a more meaningful purpose: to tear away all who stood in their way.

It is breathtakingly beautiful. A wave of your wand can take away a person's life. One simple incantation can drain away that spark, that energy.

When I had been but a mere boy in St. Mary's Orphanage (that dreadful Muggle place), they drilled into me this principle: life is precious and taking that away is one of the ultimate sins. Over the years, I learned that that was not true. The most precious thing in the world is that exact moment, when you learn that you had defied the very nature of society, of the world. It is exhilarating to know that you dared go against God.

Despite what Dumbledore and his Order claim, you do not have to want to kill to properly use the spell. I had first done it while carelessly reading it out loud from a book. By chance, the emerald beam of light had hit a mouse. When I had picked it up, its corpse had felt stone-cold. Anybody could do it; you just had to have some amount of intelligence and hatred within you. Even Potter, the little Brat-Who-Should've-Died, can use it. If anything, I suspect, Potter could be the one who could use it to its fullest potential. The boy has so many pent-up feelings within him.

How many have fallen to the embrace of the Unforgivable tango? How many have danced that sweet waltz with the darkness?

I have done so many times, dancing to the dark music of the Unforgivables. Every spin, every twist, and every step I have done with practice and ease. After all, who better to be the Unforgivable dancing partner than the Dark Lord Voldemort himself?


Author's Notes:

This was a completely random fic that popped into my head one day. I tried to form it into something substantial but I don't think I did too well *nervous laughter*. It's supposed to be about Voldemort's views on the Unforgivables, since he and his Death Eaters use them so often. Originally, it was written in third person, but then we learned about Points of Views in English and I decided to change it to first person. I'm not quite sure if I completely changed it.

Anyway...I won't be able to update at all during the holidays because my family's going out of the country. Sorry for those who want "Suzaki Hikari" and "Things Aren't Always What They Seem" to be updated.

In my own self-assessment: This fic was not too well-done and does not make much sense. But...that's who I am. I don't make much sense most of the time.

Can anybody tell me how to reply to a review besides typing it up for the whole world to see? I've gotten a few and haven't figured out how to do it. If you can tell me, it'll be very much appreciated.

So...If you want, you can leave a review. (This means: review or else.)

Anyway...Merry Early Christmas and Happy Thanksgiving!

Bye!

Blackie. (Isn't this nice? I came up with a weird nickname for myself.)