A/N: About to go into exams, but rather than go a while without a chapter I've decided to upload the next one now instead.
As always, thank you to those who review. Constructive opinions are invaluable to me.
X. Genesis Part Two: Born
"Whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad."
Harry
Avada Kedavra.
The first Death Eater died without a sound, his fall muffled by a hastily cast Silencing Charm.
I quickly rounded the corner to see two more approaching.
Pity they couldn't see me.
The first was caught in a Stupefy, and the surprise of the sudden attack had rendered his companion frozen for a few seconds.
Seconds were all I needed.
He died in another green flash of light.
I quickly levitated the bodies into an empty room, and tested each wand. The first one suited me best. I snapped the other two, and moved further into the house.
Three down.
The anger was gone now. All the hate, the rage that I had felt at the orphanage, it had all disappeared, replaced with an unnerving, icy calm.
I was at peace.
And that frightened me.
Emboldened by my early victories, I went through four more rooms in quick succession, three of which were occupied.
Avada Kedavra.
Avada Kedavra.
Avada Kedavra.
I made my way upstairs, blowing a pinpoint hole through the head of a Death Eater on the landing.
He collapsed, a trickle of blood running down his forehead.
I Vanished the body, and moved into the first bedroom.
A prone figure lay sleeping.
With a flick of my wand and a green flash, I ensured he would never wake again.
The next two rooms were empty, but the fourth one I found another person.
Except this one was chained to the bed.
In the dim light, I could see that her body was covered in lucid purple bruises, and one of her arms was bent at an unnatural angle.
I could not sense any magical power coming from her - she was a Muggle. Breaking into her mind was easy.
I flitted through her recent memories. None were pleasant.
This woman had suffered a kind of torture that had ruined her mind.
Death would be a kindness for her.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
I placed my wand on her temple.
Avada Kedavra
Grimly, I moved on.
Uric Dolohov had been a Death Eater for four years, being recruited shortly after the Dark Lord's rising at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.
His uncle Antonin had been killed by Flitwick, and if it was the last thing he'd ever do, Uric vowed to get his hands on the tiny Charms Professor.
Tonight, he was in the kitchen, cooking a makeshift meal with two other Death Eaters. Normally Uric wouldn't set foot near a kitchen, but he was forced to make an exception due to the noticeable lack of House Elves in their hideout.
"Bloody elves, never there when you need them. Vermin, the lot of them," he spat.
"Don't spit in the kitchen, Dolohov. It's disgusting," chided a female Death Eater.
"Fuck off, Morin. Since when did you care?"
"I don't want your spit on my food!"
"It's still going to taste like shit," he retorted, walking out of the kitchen. They could cook their own food.
He shoved open the door to his room, a few feet from the kitchen, and laid out on the bed. He sighed.
People were so complacent sometimes. Not like that girl at the orphanage. She'd been difficult: screamed when he'd broken her legs, but after he'd sawn out her tongue with an old knife, she hadn't made a sound…
And the look of sheer terror on her face when she finally understood what was happening to her was nothing short of beautiful.
He was broken out of his reverie when he heard a muffled thump from down the hall. Muttering darkly, he made his way back to the kitchen.
"Morin?"
Morin lay sprawled out face down on the floor, along with her companion.
Uric quickly turned her over, then froze.
Morin was dead.
Very dead.
"Fuck!"
A small noise made him look up sharply.
"Who's there?"
The reply came in the form of a Silencing Charm and a Full Body-Bind.
He toppled to the floor, his nose breaking in the impact. Groaning in silent pain, he felt his body being turned over.
For the first time in a long time, Uric Dolohov felt very afraid.
The emerald eyes that stared back at his were filled with an emotion that he did not understand.
His head jolted, and memories began to flit through his brain - the layout and occupants of the Death Eater house, his own identity, his uncle Antonin, and his own actions - his part in the threats, the attack on the orphanage, the girl…
As sudden as they had begun, the flood of memories stopped.
And in that moment, Uric Dolohov knew he was going to die.
With a wand flick, the throbbing of his broken nose was replaced by a new agony.
Uric realised with horror that his crotch was on fire.
Every nerve in his body screamed with the urge to move, but he could not. The pain was unbearable, and already, it was too late. The fire had spread to his legs and chest, and Uric knew that this was no mere flame, no, this fire was fuelled by an insatiable, livid rage that hungered for his very soul.
The heat had reached his neck, and he couldn't feel a thing below his waistline. The fire was burning inside his body, devouring not just skin, but organs, tissue, and bone.
Uric Dolohov's dying thought was another memory, a remark he'd made only a few short weeks ago.
Harry Potter won't attack us. He is too afraid to kill.
Harry
I'd made a mistake.
A quick Killing Curse would've sufficed.
I let my emotions get the better of me.
I checked my watch. Killing the Death Eater in the kitchen had taken too long.
I stashed another wand into my belt, dragged the bodies out of sight, and moved onwards.
I entered an empty room with crude diagrams scrawled across the walls and ceiling. They were the same as the ones at the orphanage.
More of the arcane. It wasn't a priority, so I left.
I wasn't here to study Dark Magic.
I was here to end it.
The next two rooms were also empty, yet the information I'd gotten from using Legilimency on Dolohov said there were many more Death Eaters inside the house.
A quick detection spell revealed four more in this part of the house, and all in the same room.
Quickly walking towards it, I weighed up my options. No matter how I saw it, subtlety would no longer help me.
It was time to make some noise.
I stashed my cloak away, and drew one of the wands I'd taken from my foes.
Carefully, using my wand, I fished out a small pouch filled with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.
All that stood between me and using it was a sturdy oak door. I aimed my own wand at the door, and levitated the Darkness Powder with the other stolen wand.
Confringo!
No more door.
The Blasting Curse exploded the door inwards, and swinging the other wand around, I flung the powder into the room.
Darkness was, as expected, immediate.
Muffled cries of shock came from within, and I strode into the blackness firing a barrage of green light from both wands.
When the Powder cleared, three wizards lay dead upon the floor.
But there was a fourth missing.
I swore as I noticed another door in the room. It was open. Number four had escaped.
And he'd gone to warn his friends.
Well, at least it'd make this evening interesting.
Foregoing all attempts at discretion, I strode out of the room.
They could not Apparate.
They could not Floo.
And they could not hide.
There would be no escape.
I rounded another corner and came face to face with a Death Eater. Not slowing down, I disarmed him with a flick of one wand, and took his life with the other.
Breaking into a run, I headed for the other side of the house. Another detection spell told me there were eighteen more Death Eaters in the house.
Most would call those odds suicide.
I just kept running.
A green jet of light shot past my ear, and I dived to ground, twisting my body and aiming both wands in the direction of the curse.
Nothing.
This one was considerably more skilled than the others.
I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye, and rolled left.
The action saved my life as a second green jet flew past.
It was kill or be killed.
Incendio Maxima!
With both wands I conjured a torrent of livid blue fire that roared down the corridor, engulfing everything in it's path.
I got to my feet as my opponent's screams faded away.
Up ahead I could hear muffled shouts.
"Stick together! He can't take on all of us!"
Well, that's exactly what I planned to do.
I came to another larger door. It was warded.
I began to murmur the incantation to break the ward, and after a few short moments, the ward dissipated in an orange haze.
This was it.
Enter Harry Potter.
I blasted my way into the room, firing off spells before the last splinters had fallen to the floor.
Expelliarmus. Defodio. Confringo. Protego. Expulso. Avada Kedavra.
I duelled with a deadly rhythm, simultaneously shielding and cursing, ducking and weaving through the room.
With a vicious slashing motion of my wand, one Death Eater collapsed to his knees mid-spell, his throat slit open, spurting blood.
I turned, and gouged a fist-sized chunk of flesh from a second Death Eater.
A third cast black lightning at me, and in one swift motion, I redirected it at another, her screams jarring against the sounds of battle as the lightning tore her apart.
A slashing hex caught my shoulder, and I gritted my teeth in pain. Whirling around again, I faced my attacker:
Reducto Mortata!
I replied with a curse that exploded his head from his body. A fountain of blood gushed from his neck.
Suddenly I felt myself lifted off my feet in the blast of an explosion. Fire billowed throughout the room, and I fell to the floor dazed.
Sharp pain blossomed in me as I got to my feet. One broken ankle. Smoke and haze filled the room as I tried to get my bearings.
Two shots of bright light shot from the darkness and slammed me into the wall. Each felt like I'd taken a shotgun to the chest at point-blank range.
That was a rib gone. Not broken, gone. Looked like I was due for another date with Skele-Grow.
Each gasp I took for air sent stabbing pain through my lungs. Figures in black began to materialise before me, even though my vision was blurred.
I couldn't do it. This was it. I was going to die.
Any second now, they'd appear, and raise their wands…
For an instant, time stood still for me.
And in that instant, I remembered why I was here. I remembered the horrors I'd witnessed at the orphanage.
And I remembered my vow to kill each and every single person responsible.
Finding strength through pure desperation, I half-stood, slumped against the wall, and raised my arms.
By some miracle I still had two wands.
Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!
Like how machine guns would rain bullets in the films Dudley watched, I shot a continuous stream of green light into the space before me.
The hate, the pain, the cold deathly rage that charged through my body fuelled me to go further. I fired Killing Curse after Killing Curse at them, wishing them to die.
They started this war.
Tom Riddle had started it on that fateful Halloween night.
It is a war I've fought all my life.
And only then, when I poured brilliant green death into a human wall, did I feel something like peace.
Ginny
The night was cold.
Clad in an oversized jersey, I stepped onto the balcony, and gazed at the soft snowflakes tumbling down in the breeze. I took another step and leaned on the railing in silent contemplation.
Inside, Gryffindors were getting back from dinner, settling down into armchairs and couches to read and write, to play, to gossip, to smile…
My mind wandered to Harry.
What was he doing tonight? What was he thinking? Where was he? Was he happy? Hurt? And for the countless time, I wondered why he'd left me.
The night sky didn't answer.
Typical.
I hugged my arms around my waist.
The night was cold.
A solitary tear ran down my cheek.
Did he still love me? Could he still feel love?
Was he still the Harry Potter I wanted back in my arms?
I didn't know, and that hurt as much as knowing that he was gone.
The night was cold.
Harry
The haze had cleared, and dead bodies were littered about on the floor. I slowly made my way out, past the puddle of blood, and the corpses, and all the death that I had caused. On all sides I was surrounded by a bleak, burning ruin.
I didn't know what keeping me standing. I had a dozen cuts and bruises, was bleeding in no less than four...make that five places, and my head was raging with the pain of concussion.
The enormity of what I'd done struck as the exhaustion finally claimed its toll on me, and I passed out amongst the rubble, in what had been an hour ago, home to thirty-four Death Eaters.
"Kingsley?"
The Minister for Magic looked up from his report to see two Aurors standing in front of him.
"Falkner, O'Reilly. What are you after?"
"There's been a couple of reports sir - a lot of magical activity in a small space," said the first.
"Where?"
"An old muggle manor house in the West Country," the other replied.
"Definitely magical?"
"Unless Muggles have figured out how to use the Killing Curse-"
"What?" Kingsley interjected.
"Reported were numerous green flashes…the house is on a big hill, and there's a small village at the bottom. A few wizards live in the village, and you can see the manor from there."
"How long ago?"
"An hour."
"Right, put a team together. You'll head out in twenty minutes."
They left.
Quickly conjuring a Patronus, Kingsley sent a message down to the Department of Mysteries.
Harry
I regained consciousness, groaning as the pain of the battle hit me again. My entire body shook in agony. It was an effort to curl my fingers around my wand and conjure a crutch for my broken ankle.
Standing up nearly killed me, but I willed myself onwards.
I knew that the Aurors would arrive soon, and when they did, I couldn't be here.
One tentative step at a time, I limped out of the ruined building.
"Look, he left a pin," said Y, pointing to the map on the wall. "It's new. He's got to be there."
Roused awake by Kingsley's Patronus, the two Unspeakables had quickly dressed and met in the makeshift command room that made up Operation headquarters.
"Merlin. If the intelligence is right, there are at least twenty Death Eaters there."
"We've got to get there, now. If the battle is over and the Aurors find him first…"
X nodded, and grabbed an empty coffee mug.
"Portus."
With a lurch, both disappeared.
Several Aurors arrived at the manor, and were combing the scene.
"Merlin and Agrippa…" Falkner exclaimed.
"I reckon this lot were mown down by the Killing Curse - look at the way they've fallen."
"O'Reilly, have you seen this? Three dead in the kitchen...at least I think it's three, there are two bodies and a mound of ashes."
"And in the drawing room, another three," added a third.
"Send Kingsley a Patronus. Tell him what happened, and for the love of Merlin, make sure the press is kept on a tight leash!" O'Reilly ordered.
"Too right, the Prophet would have a bloody field day if they saw this," said another.
"I think we have a bigger problem. Who the hell could've done this?" O'Reilly replied.
"I don't know...it's strange - the lot on the other side of the house are all neat kills. Avada Kedavra, no fuss about it. But on this side, it looks like a bloody battleground!"
"I think it was Potter. Amy was right," said O'Reilly.
"You've got to fucking me. No way could he do something like this, he's just a kid!"
"A kid who killed You-Know-Who."
"Yeah, but whoever did this must've been fucking berserk!" Falkner swore.
"Potter had motive - we all saw the orphanage, he probably managed to get a look in too."
"Sure, but why would Potter go...oh shit…" his voice trailed away.
"Did you forget that Potter's a war orphan too?" O'Reilly said, his voice somber.
Ginny
I watched the moon sink behind the clouds, casting the sky into total darkness.
The steady chatter of the Gryffindor Common Room had long subsided to a whisper as I went back inside and took my customary seat by the fire.
I sat in silence. Something had happened tonight, deep down I could feel it.
Something wonderful, and terrible, and great.
But what it was, I did not know.
Harry
I headed down a small path that had fallen into disuse to get to the main road. I still didn't have the strength to Apparate.
Turning a corner, I came across a figure blocking my way.
"Not another step!"
It was Delaney, the Auror who had waylaid me at Godric's Hollow. Looked like he'd finally caught up.
"Fuck…it really is you!" He seemed to be surprised as I was.
I took a step.
"Don't you move! Don't!"
I took another step.
"What the hell did you do in there, Potter?" he gestured towards the ruined building.
"You won't curse me. I'm a war hero, remember?" The words were bitter on my tongue.
I took two more steps.
"Are you out of your mind? I...I will stun you, Potter! I am too far gone to care - you don't believe me? Believe I won't? Come on!"
His wand was an inch from my forehead.
I looked up at him.
"Do you really want to be me?" I asked, my voice dangerous.
He faltered, and lowered his wand.
I gazed into his face. It was not the face of a killer.
It was not a face like my own.
"I killed them. All of them. Now go home."
He paused.
"What? Who...who are you to decide? Why do you do this?!"
"Because I must. Go. Forget that you were ever apart of this."
"What if I go to the Daily Prophet, tell them that you were behind this?"
"I have some powerful friends. They wouldn't take too kindly to it," I said impassively.
Delaney stood there, silently, staring at me for only a moment.
Then he turned and walked away, back in the direction of the ruined manor house.
The moonlight had given away to a chill black.
Despite being close to exhaustion, I knew I had to get further away.
I walked on, into the shadows, not looking back.
Never looking back.
I walked on, through the long, cold, dark night that had become my life.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!