A/N: Hello!I know I am crazy for starting a new story but this is my entry for a-trip-to-honeydukes' The Magic Number Competition on HPFC. I chose the Seven Deadly Sins.

I have to write seven chapters including a prompt. I own nothing. Chapter One is "Wrath" with the prompt "Half Decent"


Wrath - Half Decent

Wrath. Rage. Anger. Fury. Ire.

She has so many names but really she is just simply that feeling that you get and you cannot control your actions, you just see red.

She is all around us, absolutely everywhere. She diffuses through the air freely, observing the interactions between everyone and then, suddenly, she invades the bodies and minds of people and they're uncontrollable.

She's red fiery pure wrath.

Of course, some people are more susceptible to her. They react to everything with her inside them.

Take the tall boy sat under the stormy grey sky that so reflects his mood. The boy with the bright orange hair, the lively blue eyes and the usually carefree grin who has one of the purest and kindest hearts you have seen. But, sometimes he's marred with jealousy. He's the youngest boy and he's never been the cleverest, the funniest or the best, so he thinks (but, really, he is the most heroic) and his entire life he has felt half decent. He has always been susceptible to her, throughout his childhood. He would often fly off the hook for small things like jokes going too far, being chastised by his mother, things not going exactly right and especially when he was feeling inferior. His heart has always been in the right place but sometimes, he just sees red.

But, now, everything is different. He is sat on the cold forest floor, twirling that powerful stick of wood in one hand, the other arm tied up in a sling watching every move made by the black haired, green eyed boy that is being relied on by the world and the bushy haired, brown eyed girl that is perfect in every single way.

And he's hungry. He's so hungry. He's hungry for food and he's hungry for the bushy haired girl. He thinks that's she's so beautiful, how she appears golden in the afternoon sunshine and the way her brown eyes convey every emotion she's feeling, whether they're crackling with anger or lighting up with happiness. But he'll get her. He gets everything.

He's wearing that… that thing around his neck. That thing and she's got no idea what it is, just that it sucks her in. And she cannot escape its pull. That thing amplifies her beyond everything. And she's invading his mind and all he can see is red.

His wrath is unstoppable, it seems. He's angry with the green-eyed boy for his lack of direction and his lack of knowledge. He's angry with the old, white haired wizard for not leaving any real instructions. He's angry with the kind faced, plump ginger haired witch for making him feel least loved. But most of all, he's angry with the pair he is scrutinising. He wants her but the scarred boy is the "Chosen One". Who was he compared to the Boy-Who-Live? (No-one, he thinks to himself)

She flares up inside him and he imagines that with one twirl of the dangerous powerful piece of wood he grasps tightly in his clenched fists, the black haired boy could be writhing on the floor in agony.

"You know the spell. Just one simple word and he'll be out of the way and you can have her. You have to mean it."

The thing whispers to him and for one dreadful moment his hand is poised, the words are on his lips but then common sense overrules the rage. Breathing heavily, he sets the piece of wood aside and slowly, she ebbs away and seeps out of him, as he calms down.

The orange haired boy (well, really he's a man now that has been forced to grow up fast) stares up at the sky and sighs. He knows that this is all for the better in the end but no-one told him that it would ever get this tough.

Wrath retreats to her fiery lair and continues dispersing through the suddenly somewhat sombre world. But she always remains close to the orange haired boy and his companions. It's that thing that causes tension to run high and sucks her in to their tent. It's all getting a bit too much now and she knows without a doubt that one of them will crack soon. And she'll be there, causing it.

But for now, she lies dormant in the air around them waiting to engulf one of them in a haze of red unreasonableness. But, she'll be there.

Always.