DISCLAIMER: The story and characters of the wizarding world of Harry Potter belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.
'The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters.' - Sirius Black
1. The Hopping Pot
The stifling layers of quilts notwithstanding, he can feel a cold trickle of fear run down his spine as he pictures the ghastly shape of an ancient cauldron gobbling down people, coughing up mangled and bloodied pieces of skin and arms that reek of a nauseous metallic tang; howling forms bearing pitchforks trot dangerously close to his tiny form and he knows it's going to be a while before he reads a bedtime story again.
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2. Prankster
There is a sudden shriek of outrage to his right and he turns, akin to everyone else in attendance, to see cousin Bella's dark hair morphed into a vivid pink with her face slowly turning the same shade in anger; he sneaks a look at his brother sniggering with their Uncle Alphard at a corner table and bites back a smile.
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3. Slytherin
There's a moderate applause as he slides down the stool and walks quietly toward the table to his left, glittering colours of silver and green hanging by way of banners above this group of students; he fights down the urge to turn and look as a familiar scoff reaches his ears from amid the sea of scarlet and gold.
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4. Marauders
A pit of empty coldness settles itself in his stomach as he watches the four boys huddled in a group across the courtyard, howling with laughter with their arms slung around each other's shoulders in an easy abandon; he refuses to acknowledge the emotion for the longing that it is.
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5. Quidditch
The winds whisper past his hair as he steers the broom above the wide expanse of the pitch toward the shiny speck of gold fluttering with something akin to mischief in his vision; succumbing to a sense of cliché, he thinks he's never felt more alive than he does in that moment when his fingers clasp the Snitch.
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6. Gone
He looks past the cracks of ice marring the window pane and down at the street as a lone figure stomps over the road, a rucksack hefted upon a shoulder; Regulus bites down a cry of protest as there is a muffled sound of Crack and the silhouetted form of his brother vanishes into the night.
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7. Initiation
His vision is swarmed with the images of mouths opened wide in silent screams and a pair of eyes the colour of blood; a storm brews past the dim confines of the room and he can feel his arm burn.
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8. Death
He swears he can feel the dungeons shake in the wake of another round of frightful screams and pleading sobs; his grip around the wooden handle of his wand wavers only a little.
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9. Night
Exhaustion burgeons into a thick cloak round his head but he refuses to relinquish himself to the dubious comfort of sleep for the fear of the terrible bloodbath mingled with a grotesque sense of reality hounding him by way of nightmares.
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10. Potion
His insides churn and there's a terrifying sense of his entrails twisting and turning in an excruciating grip; tiny hands reach up to his face and his cries of no more, Kreacher, please, no more are lost to the bleak dullness of the cave as more liquid burns down his throat.
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11. Inferi
His last thought as hundreds of slimy and bony fingers grab hold of him to pull his weakened form into the swirling depths of the murky waters is of dark eyes much like his own twinkling with a laughter he's only ever heard from afar and how he hopes he's done enough.
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End
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I read another fanfiction, though not belonging to this particular fandom, in this format and wanted to try it out for the intrigue that it left me with. Please share in the comments' section your thoughts on this piece of writing.