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Evil never Dies
Summary: 'Kill, have to kill. That's my purpose, that's my goal, my destiny, my fate. I don't want to, wish I won't, but I didn't make up the rules. I have to be the hero, even in my lowest times...' Harry Potter was supposed to save the world.
Disclaimer: Argh! Hate this thing... I don't own a thing, ok?
What am I doing here?
I sit up in my room, just thinking. I miss him a lot. And all I've got left from him was a broom and a broken mirror sitting in the bottom of my trunk.
Funny, thinking of broken mirrors. Seven years of bad luck, the Muggles believe. But I'm no Muggle. And I've seen black cats, evil wizards and witches and far worst than a broken mirror. It's just a stupid Muggle superstition.
It was my fault.
No, it wasn't.
Stop blaming yourself for it.
But I made him go there.
Kreacher. Kreacher is the one to blame. That stupid old house elf. I loath him. I wish he was dead. I will kill him the minute I see him again. Traitor. I don't care what Hermione will say and even if I am a member of spew, I don't care. He lied to me. He lied to him. He's the real reason he's dead. If he lucky, he'll die from age, and not from my tightly grip around his neck.
I still can't say his name.
What is the point of it, anyways?
He's dead, right?
Why talking about someone who passed?
My vision went blurry again. My eyes filled with tears once more. I can't help it. I can't hold them back. They just burst out.
But even if my eyes are watering now uncontrollably, that doesn't mean I'm crying. I don't cry. I hardly ever cry. I'm not familiar with this sensation. Sorrow. Sadness. Grieving. I slip my fingers under my glasses and wipe my eyes dry, though the tears are still streaming out.
What is grieving? Is someone who's grieving has to cry and mourn over his lost ones? Why can't we just sulk and be angry about it, and not say a word?
I don't want to open up.
I'm sitting in my room, locked inside. No, Uncle Vernon didn't lock me up on his own will. I did it. I wanted to be alone. Facing the Dursleys may be a bad idea for awhile. I'm not in the mood to hear their teasing calls and orders. I may burst and blow up another one.
It's been a week since I came back to Privet Drive. Haven't eaten much. Just a toast in the morning and a glass of water before bed. Those were my eating habits these past few days.
I can feel me losing weight. My skin stretched upon my bones, so now they're visible. I'm skinnier then ever. If Mrs. Weasley sees me, she will probably have a stroke. I maybe a bit pale, as I can see my hands are. I don't even know how I look like. I'm afraid to see someone else looking back in the reflection of the mirror.
Here's the mirror issue again. I don't want to think about it anymore, my head hurts. And lately, when my head hurts, my scar starts to burn.
No, it's not about Voldemort. I know how it feels like when he's angry or happy. It's a whole new different feeling. It burns because I want it to. The pain comforts me a little. And I know that he can feel it too, just like I can feel his.
Good.
Now he'll know what it feels like.
I want him to feel what I feel.
He'll know exactly what he cost me.
He and the bloody, stupid Death Eaters of his.
I want them dead.
All of them.
The prophecy has been on my mind constantly. I can't stop thinking about it. The words of Trelawney sank in and now I can't get them out. I memorized them by heart. Well, I thought that if it's my fate, than at least I won't forget it, right?
Neither can live while the other survives...
Kill, have to kill. That's my purpose, that's my goal, my destiny, my fate. I don't want to, wish I won't, but I didn't make up the rules. I have to be the hero, even in my lowest times.
I don't love to play the hero, like everyone thinks. It's not funny seeing people die or in danger. And it's an instinct for me to help someone who's asking to be rescued when there's nobody else for him. I can't help it, it's who I am. I don't like to be in the centre of attention. I don't like people taking about me behind my back and deciding how my life will be like.
That's you, Dumbledore.
Aunt Petunia is knocking on the door right now, distracting me from my thoughts. 'Would you ever come down to eat?' she says. I mimic her voice within my mind. It's such a horrible sound, her voice, I mean. She starting to sound like Mrs. Weasley every day passes. 'I swear your Headmaster will think we're starving you. If you tell him one lie about us, you're not going back here next summer!' Like I want to. And if I even make it 'till next summer. Does it look like summer, anyway? The sky struggling between shades of light grey to deep grey. Rain is pouring non-stop for days now. And thunders can be heard in the distance. It looks like someone is really upset about something up there. 'Do you even hear me?' my 'dear' Aunt persisted. I didn't answer her. Let her think I'm dead.
I better off be dead anyway. Sooner or later, Voldemort will kill me. I could I, a 16 year old, skinny boy can defeat a powerful wizard like Voldemort?
Better off be dead, I say. Nobody cares for me. Well, except couple of dear friends and maybe an Order member or two, but they care because I need to save the world. Hah. I have nothing to live for.
Damn you Voldemort! Look how much I lost just because of you. First my parents, then Cedric, and finally my only hope to have a real family... Si...Sir...
No, I can't say or even think about his name! It's like I'm not able to pronounce it. The word sits at the edge of my tongue and begging to get out, but something holds it back.
Why do I deserve it? What did I do to deserve such a horrible life? I hate my life. I hate myself for living my life.
–––
So, they kept their promise. They came to take me the following morning. Uncle Vernon roared with anger, or was it dread? I didn't catch the note, but I could see him staying as far as he could from Mad-Eye, who rolled his magical eye obviously on purpose, just to frighten my Uncle.
The first smile I made in weeks crept over my lips. The sight of Uncle Vernon leaning against a wall, like someone aimed a gun at him, was priceless and indescribable. It may was a faint smile, but the edges of my lips still went up slightly.
Aunt Petunia seemed calmer, for some strange reason I didn't want to question about. So I shrugged it off.
I gave Tonks my trunk and Hedwig's cage as she took them to the Ministry car, which was waiting outside.
But I must admit that I felt uncomfortable under Moody's gaze when he looked down at me, checking me with his regular eye, while, his magical one swirled around to the inside of his head and looked at my Uncle. "What did they do?" he asked me suspiciously.
I caught my Aunt's eyes and then I looked back at him. "Nothing," I said. "They treated me nice and fairly." I heard Aunt Petunia exhale audibly with relief, but she stopped the breath in the middle of its blow the minute Moody turned his head to look at her warningly. Her eyes widened and her jaw fell with fear. Moody nodded once to her, and led me out toward the car.
Gratefully, they took me to the Burrow. I didn't know what I would have done if we were heading to Grimmauld Place. I finally got to see Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, and like I've expected, Mrs. Weasley went nutters about my look and my weight. I assured her I'm fine. Honestly, she just saw me last week!
I can tell you that since that night, I ate. I ate a lot. Being under Mrs. Weasley watch wasn't easy, even when she knew how lousy I felt at the moment, she avoided talking about the issue that bothered me, but persisted to shoving food until I got my normal weight back and didn't look like a skeleton anymore.
When Hermione came over two weeks later to spend the rest of the summer with us, I finally got the courage to tell her and Ron about the Prophecy. I felt relieved that they finally knew and I didn't need to hide it with me anymore. They were very supportive, like always, which eased things. I couldn't be more grateful to have friends like them.
–––
And my sixth year at Hogwarts began easily. Passed Potions, Merlin knows how, but I was happy about it because I still could be a Auror some day. And besides, when Snape saw me sitting in the back, next to Hermione, I swear I saw his jaw fall with shock, and his white skin paled even more, if it was possible.
I asked Dumbledore to do me a favor and teach me Occlumency properly (of course after I apologized for destroying his office and possessions). I didn't have another dream about Voldemort in a log time, but I thought that it was worth the shot. Thankfully, Dumbledore agreed and the lessons were easier with him, then they were with Snape.
As time went by, Dumbledore saw I did it well and when I didn't have trouble blocking my mind anymore, he suggested on teaching me how to defense myself against the Unforgivable Curses.
If truth be told, I was terrified. Dumbledore assured me that I will be fine with it. It wasn't an easy task. Performing the Unforgivables was hard and I needed to concentrate and use a lot of power and energy.
I succeeded. I succeeded with putting the Imperius Curse on a spider. A large spider, mind you. It was tough, but I did it.
We moved to Cruciatus and then to the Killing Curse. I succeeded performing them all. On spiders, of course, but Dumbledore told me that my mind concentrating on Voldemort, and even if I would have cast it on a human being, I will defiantly kill him.
–––
A ring of a large and heavy bell went dong, dong, dong. It was Hogwarts' bell. And I knew what it meant.
My body started to shake, and I said my last goodbyes to my friends before I went with the members of the Order to fight with them.
Aurors were all around, shooting curses at Death Easters, casting Patronuses at Dementors and slowly, so was I.
I stepped over dead bodies, of Aurors and Death Eaters all the same. The sight was horrible; the temperature was nearly around the zero, due to the hundreds of Dementors hovering around. I kept walking, where his voice told me within my mind, 'Keep walking, Potter, to the Forbidden Forest, you will find me there,' his cool voice said. I didn't bother do Occlumency now, since I needed to find him. I needed to end it once and for all. I took a deep breath and walked in the directions he gave me.
I found him, but he wasn't alone. His most faithful servants stood next to him. They didn't wear their white masks. And I guessed it was because they wanted to show me who will be responsible for my death.
I gulped hard. I was still shaking like mad, and the trembling interrupted me with holding tightly on my wand.
I didn't manage to do it. I wasn't strong enough. I tried my best, but it wasn't enough.
Don't you know that evil never dies? You can see it in movies, where the psychopath murderer gets shot about five times in the heart, and a minute later he jumps up fully alive, until he gets shot in the head, and a year later there's a sequel.
Well, in my case, it was something like that. After taking down all of his Death Eaters (with a little outside help, of course), he and I were alone. The Killing Curse I performed wasn't strong enough, but I did hurt him, quite badly, I'd say.
And he was gone with a faint pop, but not before he swore to me that we will meet again and that it wasn't over.
–––
Went back to the castle with a few injuries.
–––
Managed to stay alive for now.
–––
But still...
–––
It wasn't over.
–––
Maybe not now.
Not today.
And maybe not next month.
But eventually I will have my sequel.
–––
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