Catharsis

Catharsis

by DarkSorceress226

***

"Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry

You don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you, tell you I need you

Tell you I set you apart..."

-Coldplay, "The Scientist"

***

You are afraid, and you know it.

But you don't know why.

The mahogany wand in your hand, eleven inches long, containing one dragon heartstring, is slippery and shiny from the sweat on your palms. Your cheeks burn with anxiety.

But you know you're not allowed to be scared.

The little green cottage with the sunflowers out front glows from within, and from the warm light suffusing through the bay window, you can see your targets on the loveseat in the front room. The woman's head is settled on the man's shoulder. A sparkly ring glints as his fingers weave through her hair.

"Melanie," comes a voice next to you. It's quiet, gentle and reassuring. "Let's do this." You look at him, thinking how handsome he is, what a good listener he is. You see the anticipatory grin on his features. He's ready.

You think you are.

And you think to yourself, I'm a Death Eater. Because I want to be.

Minutes and a few charms later, you're both inside the house. The couple on the loveseat never heard a thing. Even if their television hadn't been on, they were still thinking about each other. Those thoughts were loud enough to block out everything else.

You suddenly feel at home. Not like you're back at your shabby apartment, but like you're doing something right. You're confident because you're a Death Eater. People fear you now. They never used to. Now you have power. Now they know you can kill. Now they know it's your sport.

The flutter in your stomach dies away. William takes your hand. "Go for it," he says softly from beside you.

You do.

Wraithlike, you cross in front of the TV set. The Muggle woman screams. You hope she's recognizing your regalia as a mark of your purpose instead of just reacting to seeing an intruder. Even the Muggle news has been reporting about strange serial killers that are as mysterious as they are frightening. You're one of them. You hope she knows who you are.

What you are.

The man jumps up, shielding his loved one. You see the fear in his eyes. You see the willingness to defend her. He'd die for her, you know.

William steps in, then, his wand raised. You are suddenly too grateful for his presence.

"Don't move," he hisses to the Muggles. The sound sends morbidly thrilled goosebumps across your arms. The woman sobs spastically from the loveseat, and, startled but fierce, you send a Cruciatus Curse at her.

With the first howl of pain from her, your blood runs cold. Horrified at your own actions, you nearly drop your wand.

Death Eaters are never uncertain, sneers a voice in your head. What would your dear parents say? You are shocked at the shock of the conscience that you didn't know you had. You're so deep into this situation that you have to finish it, however. Heart pounding like a rabbit in a cage, you feel the Mark pulsing on your arm and push aside your childish doubts, almost ashamed. You won't prove anything by being weak.

The Muggle man gasps, "Our money is in the freezer, take all you want, just don't hurt her - "

His words are cut short as William shouts, "Crucio!"

The man collapses to the loveseat in pain and anguish. Your stomach lurches, unreasonably, and not knowing why, you move to lift the curse from the woman. A voice that doesn't taste like your own murmurs, "Got to have you sane to watch my next trick, dear," and as she watches in pure terror, you kill her husband.

The green light hits the man squarely in the chest. Moments before the life rushes from his body, he flings a hand toward his wife, still on the loveseat, who screams loud and long. He lands on the floor in front of her, and his hand slides slowly down the patterned cushion. Finally it disappears.

And that's when your own knees buckle.

William sees your trepidation and kills the woman quickly, nearly stepping on the dead man in his haste to get to you. Suddenly unable to stand the sight of the bodies you just murdered, you fall into his arms.

The guilt, adrenaline, and terrible victory you feel make your stomach heave. Your head throbs. A savage embarrassment, shame, and humiliation are trying to override these things, but they're failing spectacularly. Vaguely, you can hear a Catholic priest being interviewed on the news on the television, saying that his wife, little daughter, and son were killed by the "Masked Murderers," but for some reason he was spared.

"Where was God?" he chokes.

William pulls off his mask and peers into your face, his deep brown eyes full of worry and concern. You remember how when you met him at your first meeting together, his eyes looked right through you like you'd known him all your life. Like you'd loved him all your life.

"Melanie," he says, almost frantically, "are you okay?"

You close your eyes, but the images of the scene around you stubbornly refuse to leave your mind. The golden chain with its rose pendant made of rubies lies heavy on your collarbone. You're breathing shallowly.

"William," you whisper, feeling your energy fade as you finger the necklace he gave you. "I don't have a heart...or a soul...I have a Mark."

You pass out.

***

She lays there in your arms, unconscious.

Panicked, you carry her to the loveseat, carelessly shoving the other woman's corpse onto the floor beside her husband. An Ennervate spell makes her eyes flutter, her smoky lashes a dark smudge on her porcelain skin. She stirs. You think for a moment about what being her husband will be like, and then remember that she isn't even your fiancée yet.

You wonder why she is so fragile tonight. But the night you fell in love with her she was delicate. The thought makes you worry more.

She sees your face and seems to revive a little. You remember why you love her. She's beautiful. She's human. You sometimes wonder whether you are.

The deceased bodies pass silent judgment.

"What did we do?" she breathes.

Hesitantly, you push up the sleeve on her left arm and run a finger over her Mark. It's hot and vivid, bright black. She flinches at the touch, her eyes squeezing shut. You know, then, that she can't do it any longer. She's too lovely. She's too...alive to make others dead.

And that's when you ask her, knowing it can't wait another day, because you need her now. She needs you now. You have to be there for her in some other way than going on killing sprees with her.

"Marry me," you whisper.

Her eyes open, and go wide.

"What?"

You say it again.

Amazed, a faint smile begins to light her features.

And that's when the door bangs open.

There they are, two Muggle policemen.

One has a gun.

"Freeze," the other yells, looking shaky once he sees your cloak and discarded mask.

Hesitantly, still stunned from everything all at once, Melanie sits up, seeming just a little surprised.

"Yes," she says, staring at you.

The police officer on the left fires his gun, looking panicked at her movement.

That's when she notices him and his partner. And she notices the bullet in her body. You watch her watch the scarlet blood trickling down her torso, staining the necklace, her skin, her innocent guilt.

She blinks.

You Disapparate while you scream.

***

And you place a single long-stemmed rose on her grave, the colour of her blood. She never even got to see the ring. And they'll talk about her for years, the one who couldn't stand it, the one who never made it. But you'll defend her.

Like that man and his wife you killed.

~END