Disclaimer: I own nothing in this except the plot, sadly. Anyways, I thought I could switch the story around a bit (I'll give you a hint, second book ;).

Author's Note: Got the idea last night. Remembered once when I wrote a story on 'the Minotaur' when I was 10 (or 11, or 9, can't remember). Anyway, the teacher told me to write from the Minotaurs point of view. (WAAAAAAAAAAAA MAJOR HINT!) Anyway, this has no official title, too much of a give away, although you can probably already guess what point of view this is of after the first few paragraphs. Um, I guess this is rated [PG], it has some suggestive violence.

O well. Enjoy ;)



I stir from my ancient shrine. A voice. Someone calls for me.

Master calls for me. My Master, whom departed so many ages ago. Once have I been called for since that time.

Master calls for me...sweetly.

I pass the dank corridors, quietly, quietly. I taste the congealed blood, long dead bones, crunching softly under. I know where Master is. I have waited for Master, Master has waited for me.

I submerge from the hole. It is open once more. The light is violent against my untrained eyes.

I face Master. Master looks different, smaller. I know it is Master. Master travels in many ways. Master is in the shape of a little creature. She looks in awe. I smell Master within her. He calls for me through the little creature. The creature knows not what she does, but a sliver of her controlled personality shows fear in her eyes. I am careful not to look straight at her.

"You are needed once more, faithful beast."

I understand.

"Anguis vestustus, ego gubernare tibi. Hurt the unworthy, non-magical fiend. The heir commands you. Go."

It was little creature whispering, but I could hear her small voice tainted with Master's command.

I crawled back into the dank hole I came from. Down, right. Up once more. I have traveled these corridors many times.

Second floor. I could smell the insolent creature. Dirty, smeared. I have longed for so long, longed for blood. Longed for blood.

Destroy the unworthy and un-noble, enemies of the heir, Master. I get the rest.

I am seen in reflection. Water. I have hurt enough for now. Vibrations on the wall. Creature is not dead.

No matter. Hurt enough for now.

I feel warm exhilaration of young creatures. Not now, not yet. Only the unworthy must be ridden of, not all creatures. I was told this many ages ago. It is written on the ancient walls of the chamber I reside in. I was placed here for that purpose. I will fulfill it!

I smell fear, taste it's bitterness. Not now, not yet. Get away.

I leave no trace but my infliction on the creature. It will do for now. Master will be satisfied...for now.

I am called again, form a slumber. Master needs me again. Time to do as Master bids.

Master commands that I kill. Kill the treacherous scum that brings dirt into the castle.

I am above such petty things such as blood and purity. These creatures are so predictable. But I must not speak ill of Master.

I am also tainted. I am that I am. I am bound to an oath of my youth. I do as Master bids, and I get the rest.

Quiet, quiet. Silent. I travel.

I murmur. I long for bloodshed, death. I long for the warmth of a pulsing heart, fiery and red. The petty creatures cannot hear me through these thick walls. The ancient tongue I speak is not spoken by anyone but Master. I follow only Master.

A ghost stands in the way of what I am bidden to do. No matter. Fear will drive the dirty creatures out, as my Master wishes.

But Master has changed. Master has less eagerness to rid these walls of the scum. Master does not wish to scour the earth of the treacherous dirt. Master wants something else. Master is waiting for someone.

I only follow Master. It is written on the walls of the chamber I dwell. I do as Master bids. I wait.

Master has strange request today. To guard the body of the creature Master spoke from. Little creature is weak, Master is stronger. Master has own body now. No matter to me. I am above such petty details. I follow Master even through another.

I reside in a special chamber, built by my Master when I was still young, so many ages ago. The ancient walls are rigid, strong, cold. I long for bloodshed, the stifling of a beating heart.

Master is waiting for someone. Master wants to put up an impression. I am above such petty things, but I do as Master bids.

I wait. I am patient. I wait.

Master calls upon me.

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four."

He speaks Masters real name. Master has unusual ways of calling me. Out I come, from the mouth of the statue, of Master. Great Master.

I taste the weakening of little creature, taste Master's strength. Another being is in the chamber. Master and other being share an essence, I can taste it in the air. Their magus is similar. I feel the radiance in my bones. Similar, but not the same.

Other being is brave, fearful, but will fight to save little creature. He is ignorant. Master has told me of this ignorant bravery, so many ages ago.

It resides in a creature as old as Master himself.

Gryffindor.

Gryffindor is a vile enemy.

Master speaks.

"Kill him."

I do as master wishes. I long for bloodshed. A beating heart. Living prey. Instinctual cold fury spurs me. The King of Serpents is alive, and demanding blood.

Gryffindor is clumsy. His eyes are closed. Clever, cunning little Gryffindor. But I allow no creature to escape!

Rex des serpens est.

He falls. Not so clever Gryffindor, not so cunning anymore, little, brave Gryffindor.

He speaks the tongue. I understand little Gryffindor.

No matter. I follow Master, not Gryffindor.

Pain!

Annoyance, blood. A creature fights me. Small, insignificant beast. But it is strong. It is brave. It sings with shattering notes, high and low. It flies around my head. It is brave. Like little Gryffindor.

I fight it, but it is swift, quick. I never underestimate my enemies. Little creature is pecking, little creature is hurting, little creature is...

Darkness! I see naught! Black resides in black. The small annoyance has blinded me! I still fight it. I wish to kill it, I wish to t...

"No! Leave the bird! Leave the bird! The boy is behind you! You can still smell him! Kill him!"

No matter. I shall kill the annoyance later. I am to do as Master wishes. What I wish is not important. Masters bidding first.

I turn to little Gryffindor; smell little Gryffindor's fear. Taste it. He is desperate.

Despair.

Despair is easy to win over.

"Kill the boy! Leave the bird! The boy is behind you! Sniff – smell him!"

I always do as Master bids.

My blood is falling. Instinct has me hurling my head around.

Masters voice brings me back. I'm in control.

I smell little Gryffindor. I lunge.

I hit the Chamber wall.

My tongue touches Gryffindor. Warm, little Gryffindor. I will kill!

I strike once more! I strike to kill! I have wounded Gryffindor! I have...

I throw back! Gryffindor has wounded me! Little Gryffindor has... Gryffindor...

Pain.

Bloodshed.

Death.

Like? Don't Like? Review plz :D. Can you guess the point of view (not very tough I don't think). I had trouble ending it. Tell me if the ending really is awful. I'm sorry, but some bits should be in italics, but the quickedit didn't work so I gave up :(

Btw- can you believe that 'Microsoft Word' doesn't recognize 'Minotaur' as a correct spelling! Miniature, Minstar, Montour, Minatare, Dinosaur are all the spelling suggestions :P