Our Corrupted Souls

Part I: The Soul of Death's Master.

"Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."

~ Oscar Wilde

There is a difference between a chosen hero, and one that rises above all- a chosen hero has no choice. It is their duty to save the world, whether they want to or not. Give up your destiny, and you are forever marked a coward. Fulfill it, and everyone will praise and adore you.

When Harry Potter discovered he was the so-called, 'Chosen One,' and 'The Boy Who Lived,' he thought his life would be glamorous; that the fame would make his abuse as a child worth it. But things were not as he planned; each year in his school of witchcraft and wizardry came with a different threat on his life. At first he could take it. Severus Snape's sneering, Draco Malfoy's bullying, Headmaster Dumbledore's riddles, Voldemort's attempts to kill him, but things became too real when the first person he cared about died.

In all reality, Harry was beginning to think this war was a sort of game. After all, everytime he encountered Voldemort, all he did was gain more knowledge with the hefty price of hearing a huge speech about how he would die at the man's will. In the end, of course, this never happened. Year after year, Voldemort proved himself far too incompetent to kill a child- which is why Harry never feared him. Part of the boy looked up to their yearly battles, thinking Voldemort would just throw a tantrum and vanish, but reality hit in his fourth year at Hogwarts.

And it hit him hard.

Reinstating the Twizarding Tournament was already a terrible idea, but no one would have thought history would repeat itself- that another death would take place. After Cedric Diggory's death, Harry realized that Voldemort was not one to play games. This was life and death, and one of them would have to die. After Diggory, only more casualties followed:

His godfather, Sirius Black, died at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

His 3rd year Defense Against Dark Arts professor and one of his father's friends, Remus Lupin, died along with his wife, Nymphadora Tonks.

Fred Weasley, his best friend's brother, died defending Hogwarts alongside his identical brother, George Weasley.

Lily and James Potter, Harry's parents, died defending him. Their death's were the ones that impacted the young boy the most, since they marked him as the Chosen One.

Part of Harry had always resented his parents for this, for giving their lives so easily for him. He knew it was irrational, but these were his thoughts and feelings. This was how he felt about his parents.

Now the war is over. He'd won. Harry indeed defeated the most powerful dark wizard of all times. Before Harry knew it, the wand which had cost the lives of his headmaster and Severus Snape, was in his hands and Voldemort was on the ground- dead. The Dark Lord's followers dumbfoundedly stared at their leader, seeing how the man had been defeated by a child yet again. There was silence around the crumbling Great Hall, until the Malfoys ran away. Soon the Great Hall was filled with the sound of apparition; the brief tunnel of wind that was their form of transportation created that left a lingering swishing sound.

Those fighting against the dark cheered on. Ginevra Weasley ran to Harry, engulfing him in a tight hug, as if she were afraid that if she let go, her beloved would be forced into hiding once more. Harry's eyes stayed glued on Voldemort's remains. Both, the elder wand and the wand he'd snatched from a death eater, slipped from his fingers.

This is it, he thought. You're dead.

Some students spat at Voldemort's remains, expressing their hatred to the man, yet Harry felt anything but. Voldemort was dead. The man responsible for his parents' death was gone, so why was that anger lingering on. No relief was provided to Harry from looking at the Dark Lord. There was no countenance, no equanimity, no felicity- nothing. Instead, a tear rolled down his cheek that damped Ginny's radiant red hair.