Dethol had found it rather easy to find the Death Eaters. They did not go unnoticed with their black ensembles and masks, not to mention the trail of destruction they left behind them. He had half-expected it to take various months to find them. It had, just less months than he had thought. He had left in early January and had caught onto them in March.
The students will have a hard time with their exams this year... He mused, It's now April, that's four months without proper classes. I hope Bill had the sense to assign them homework even without classes. That way they can pass the theory parts rather well. And, if I find those bastards and succeed, we should have one or two months to practice the practical parts.
"Who are you?" A nearby voice demanded.
What? Oh... Damn. There aren't usually any other people in deserted mountains in the springtime are there? His tired brain thought.
"Christopher McKarn," He said in his thickest Irish accent, "Wonderful woods, aye? With the snow and terrain and all; m'da an' I used t'come up 'ere an' camp for weeks on end when I was a lad."
"You had better turn around." He heard Lucius Malfoy suggest.
"Oh, c'mon, Lucius, he's just a Muggle!" Another, Theodore Nott Senior, hissed.
"That name... It sounds familiar..." The junior murmured.
"It's a Muggle name, so who cares?" Senior snapped.
"Whasser Muggle?" Dethol demanded, every bit the cranky Irish traveller.
Nott Junior and Senior looked at Malfoy for permission. Dethol was looking them all over curiously. Draco had made a list of all his father's most commonly worn possessions. Knowing that the Malfoys were typical Slytherins, he probably would have the key in the shape of a jewel. The potion maker and spell caster got to choose what shape to have the key be in. Unfortunately, he saw nothing amiss.
"Fine, have your fun with him." Lucius sneered, taking an emerald stone out of his pocket.
Ha, there it is. Of course a Slytherin git like him would have it as a rich emerald. Pretty big, must be easy to smash. One Reductor Curse... Yes, that ought to do it. Dethol thought, not even worried about reliving what many said was the cause of his madness.
He was gripped by two living boulders – Crabbe and Goyle junior, as the seniors were in Azkaban – and dragged through the woods. "Hey! Whatter you two blokes doin', eh?" He demanded indignantly.
All the Death Eaters were in the camp, he could tell. All men, as well, Dethol smirked. No wonder they were so cranky! Sexual tension could do so to people. Hopefully they were not desperate enough to use him...
"Ooh, a toy, Lucius?" Zabini senior asked, standing and smirking.
"Crucio." Lucius said, pointing his wand at Dethol.
Pain, white hot pain, shot through Dethol. He screamed. It felt good to scream. Last time he had tried not to scream. This time he could scream all he wanted. He could scream as old bruises began to ache, mental doors were opened to what he had forced himself to forget. He screamed as he shook with sheer pain, feeling as if his entire being were going to be ripped apart.
Lucius lowered his wand and Dethol crumpled at his feet. He twitched as memories he had long tried to suppress flew back to him. Memories that were too painful... they were even worse than the Cruciatus Curse itself. He moaned and closed his eyes tightly. No, not the memories, the curse was much better than the memories.
"Imperio." Nott commanded.
If there was anything worse than pain and the memories, it was a blank mind with which to experience them.
He was fifteen and crouching in the mud. He was holding someone in his arms. The body, a mere fragile shell of what she had once been. He sobbed as he stroked her face, framed with wonderful blonde hair. She was beautiful, even in death. He clutched her to him, willing for her open blue eyes to show life again. He ran a hand over her cheek.
"Marissa," He moaned, shaking her, "Marissa, wake up! Please wake up!"
He heard laughter and realized that he was hanging from a tree in his boxers, held up by his trousers which were wrapped around his feet. He must have done all sorts of amusing things under the Imperius Curse. He tried to get his trousers back on, knowing it would amuse them. The more amusing he was, the better. He would be able to live longer.
He had learned back when he was fifteen that the Imperius Curse did not have the same effect on him as it did on others. It did not make him happy; it did not make him float in a world of bliss and obedience. It had that effect on him a grand total of once, before the killings began. Ever since then, he had only re-experienced the most awful moments of his life instead of bliss.
He managed to untangle his trousers and fell to the ground with a thud. The tree had been slightly high up. It had hurt to fall from there. He moaned aloud, hearing more laughter, before pulling them up and belting them again. He lay there, panting, as they fought for who got to torture him next.
He did not know who won, he did not care. He felt pain again. Excruciating pain coupled with Marissa's screaming voice. He whined and writhed before being wrapped in the Imperius Curse again.
"Dethol!" A pretty girl screeched, pointing her wand behind him, "Stupefy!"
The Death Eater that had been about to kill, torture or control the already weakened fifth year crumpled to the ground with a thud; Dethol looked gratefully up at her in time to see the flash of green light. "No!" He had shouted, lunging at the Death Eater.
Hearty guffaws of laughter met his return to consciousness. He did not care what he had done. He simply writhed weakly before another round of pain began.
"Going to kill me, boy?" The Death Eater demanded.
He faced him, reddish blond hair dangling in front of his eyes. Marissa had liked his long hair. He pointed his wand at the man's chest. The idiot was laughing. He would be forever guilty and regretful.
"Avada Kedavra!" The boy cried.
He was too weak to hear, too weak to care.
"I can't believe you killed Rodolphus Lestrange..." Athen whispered to him over a cup of tea.
He stared blearily at his friend, "Marissa..." He moaned.
"I understand your pain, Dethol, but you need to pull yourself together! Life goes on!" The man snarled over his cup.
"Not for me." He muttered.
"Then live on for Zephari. You're Lily's best friend so, as her daughter, she will always look to you for guidance."
Dethol's eyes snapped open despite the pain. Zephari. He was here to save Zephari. His eyes fixed on Lucius, who was stroking the emerald and staying out of the fun. He was obsessed, mad. The ex-Ravenclaw reached for his wand while pretending to twitch in the after-effects of his newest round of torture. He touched it and slowly slid it out of his sleeve.
"We could keep him around for a few days, Lucius," Nott Senior was offering, "Have a little fun with him, you know."
"Do whatever you wish." The Malfoy said dismissively.
"I want to have a go!" Crabbe exclaimed suddenly.
"You? You'll probably kill him by accident!" Zabini Senior snapped.
He counted the Death Eaters. Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Nott, Zabini and Malfoy; there were six. If he had not allowed himself to be so tortured, he probably could have beaten them. As it was, he had only one shot. They were distracted, so now was his chance.
He whipped out his wand, took aim and muttered, "Reducto!"
The emerald blasted out of Lucius's hands and shattered.
"What the?" The others demanded.
Dethol tucked his wand back in his sleeve while they stared in the direction of the shattered emerald.
"A wizard?" Zabini demanded.
"Of course! You remember Christopher McKarn, he killed Rodolphus!" Nott Junior exclaimed.
Senior's voice indicated thought, "Isn't he in St. Mungo's?"
"Obviously not," Dethol snapped, struggling to his feet, "But he's a nutter, alright. How could he not? He killed someone when he was fifteen. Actually, he killed a few. Rodolphus Lestrange, Blaise Zabini, Narcissa Malfoy, Mrs. Nott, Graham Pritchard..."
"You can't be him, you don't look at all like him!" Goyle snapped.
"Good to know." Dethol growled, clenching his fists, "But you can't control Hogwarts anymore."
"We'll just do that again." Lucius sneered.
Dethol gripped his wand near the end, happy he had thought to wear such long sleeves.
"Yeah, how are you going to do to stop us?" Nott Junior sneered.
"He's obviously not McKarn, if he were we'd all be dead." Senior growled.
Dethol lifted his arm and pointed at Zabini. "Avada Kedavra." He snarled.
The indicated target dropped dead.
"You've done it now, you're as good as sent to Azkaban!" Crabbe said gleefully.
"So're you." Dethol replied, "I've killed in self defence, you haven't."
He blanched. "We should leave, Lucius." He said suddenly.
"Aww, is little Vincent scared that the mean Mudblood's going to kill him?" Dethol sneered.
"Yes, we should." Lucius replied and with five cracks they vanished.
Dethol fell back and leaned against a tree. He cast a Disillusionment Spell on himself and wrapped his cloak around him. He brought his knees up to his chest, resting his head on them.
"Dethol!" A pretty girl – his pretty girlfriend – screeched and pointed at the Death Eater approaching him from behind, "Stupefy!"
He looked up, still shaking from the latest Cruciatus Curse. The Death Eater keeled over and fell stiff to the ground. Dethol looked back at her only to see a flash of green light and her crumpling to the ground. "NO!" He screamed, lunging at the Death Eater.
The man laughed cruelly. "Going to kill me... boy?" The man scoffed.
He faced the man, his eyes flashing dangerously. His hair hung in front of his eyes, but he did not really need to aim. He would kill everyone around him if he got just that one Death Eater; the one bastard that had taken his Marissa. Screw the fact that he would earn a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Screw the fact that he would be doomed to misery for the rest of his days; that was already ensured.
"Avada Kedavra!" He cried.
The flash of green light that sprung from the end of his wand went straight for the man. bHe fell back and his mask fell off. Rodolphus Lestrange. He had killed one of Athen's distant relatives. Another Death Eater realized what had happened. He approached, wand in front of him.
"How dare you, you filthy Mudblood!" He had yelled at the boy.
But the boy simply smirked smugly at him, "I dare." He said simply, levelling his wand at him, "He killed my Marissa."
That was the end of Graham Pritchard.
From then, he had gone on a rampage. He killed anyone wearing a Death Eater mask, or that he knew to be associated with a Death Eater. Narcissa Malfoy had come at him with a stunner, which had missed, and had died for it. Mrs. Nott had tried to kill him, but he got to her first. Blaise Zabini had tried to stun him, but his green curse of death had hit him first.
He had gone into a madness that no one could control. He later frightened himself as he lay awake and remembered it all. As it was, he ran around the field killing and stunning. After Blaise Zabini, he mostly switched to stunner; which was lucky for them, as he hit a few who were openly on the good side with his powerful stunning blows.
"Christopher!" Someone yelled as the battle fever was leaving him.
He whirled, pointing his wand straight at the chest of the person approaching him. All those openly against Voldemort had been wearing a bright red. This one was wearing such a bright colour. But he was not fully sane. He never would be ever again, but at the moment he still had the animal blood lust pulsing in his veins.
"Dethol, snap out of it!" The eighteen year old cried, shoving aside his wand tip to shake his shoulders.
"Athen..." He breathed. "They... They killed Marissa."
"I know, I know, Dethol." His friend replied, tears running down his dirt-marked cheeks, "They got Lily as well."
"Marissa..." He murmured, not paying attention to his friend.
He ran across the field, searching through the bodies. The ground was completely made of mud, mixed with blood. Spells had destroyed what there had been in the area to start with. One area was charred completely black. He walked up to it and stared at the perfect circle.
"Harry and Voldemort duelled there." Athen told him, having followed, "They incinerated each other in unison when their wands refused to work. Even the web of light failed as they duelled."
The boy nodded slightly and walked away from it, going to the place where Marissa had fallen. He fell to his knees beside her and pulled her into his arms. He felt tears fall down his cheeks as racking sobs shook him. His tears fell onto her face as he held her.
He stroked her face, her cheeks and her eyelids. She was so beautiful, even in death. His Marissa; they had only been together a year and he had wanted their relationship to last forever. So had she. He moaned in pain and moved her lovely blond hair from her face, not noticing the mud all over her. She looked so pretty. Her blue eyes looked like they could have sparked with life at any moment.
"Marissa," He called, shaking her, "Marissa, wake up."
He shook her again, uselessly. He knew he looked pitiful, crouched there and holding her broken shell. Her carcass, her corpse; once a vessel for such a vibrant and intelligent mind, now shattered and fallen to the ground; she was unmarred by the battle, having been a devious witch. She had been in Ravenclaw, with him, nothing but a year above.
She had told him that she wanted to be an Auror. He had asked her not to so she would not risk her life but he had respected her when she asked him not to ask her that. Everyone had said they were the cutest couple, a match made in heaven. Slightly eccentric Muggleborn Christopher McKarn with deviously bizarre Marissa Coburn; they had been destined to last.
"Marissa..." He whispered, holding her stiffening body against his. "Don't be gone..."
"She won't wake, Dethol." Athen said firmly.
The boy screeched in inarticulate rage, placing her gently on the ground and grabbing the elder by the collar, holding him so that he could not move. He shook the older boy, yelling all sorts of curses and obscenities at him. Athen had taken his wand when he had seen what kind of a state he was in, which was good as he yelled the killing curse more than once.
"She's not dead!" He howled finally, letting go of Athen and collapsing against him. "She's not! She can't be!"
His friend patted him on the back and supported him as he howled out his sorrows. People who had looked scornfully down at him and her as a doomed relationship for beginning so soon realized then just how much he had loved her. It was a rare thing to see someone so young, let alone a young man, howling out his grief as he clung to a friend's shirt for support. The friend, however, had no more tears to spill.
The next few days passed in a blur. He was sent to live with Athen as he tried to recover. He was then sent to St. Mungo's for treatment. They tried a Memory Charm on him and it was weak enough for him to be able to completely forget his social life. He changed his name then, to Dethol na N'ataya, as his friends had begun calling him in school.
Weeks later, he sat at Athen's clean kitchen table. They both had circles under their eyes from their lack of sleep. Not just because they were each mourning their counterparts, their partners and their other halves but because Athen's baby daughter often woke screaming in the night.
"I can't believe that you killed Rodolphus Lestrange..." Athen murmured, looking down at his cup of tea.
This brought on another wave of pain for him. Dethol moaned and sipped at his cup, nearly choking from the sudden deluge of hot liquid into his throat. He looked blearily at his friend, knowing that he had started crying again.
"Marissa..." He moaned, drinking again and wishing it was something he could get drunk off of.
"I understand your pain, Dethol, but you need to pull yourself together! Life goes on!" Athen snapped, obviously completely irritated with his guest.
"Not for me." The boy had growled, finishing his cup and pouring himself some more with steady hands.
"Then live on for Zephari. You're Lily's best friend so, as her daughter, she will always look to you for guidance." Athen snapped.
He had sighed, drinking what was left of his cup.
"Come on, you have your next appointment today." Athen said suddenly, standing.
"Thank Godric." He whispered, following.
A/N: This section – the flashback, mainly – was sort of inspired by the song Only One by Yellowcard, which I managed to catch the end of as I reached the end of the longer flashback.