Harry Potter Requiem

I feel like crying. Bitter regret is seeping into me. Hate flushing through my veins. Red hot rage, blinding my vision. A deep sense of loss, chilling an icy path through my heart. A chaotic collection of emotions, no doubt about it.

I can't seem to think why I want to cry, but deep down, I know why. I just can't think of the reason. Fear engulfs me, hiding my body from any saviour that can happen upon me. I don't know what to do. I'm slowly dwindling away inside my very own mind.

I want it to stop, all this pain. I can't seem to think who could be inflicting it on me, this utter agony, but I do know deep inside. It is just lost within me. I'm screaming now, but still, the tears I so desperately yearn for won't come forth. Who are you, I scream.

There is no reply. I hear a beautiful melody lilting in the air, the dancing notes of a pianist's fingers. But.. where? There was no piano here. But oh, it is so beautiful. I can feel this heartfelt requiem unleashing the tears I'm begging for.

Who is playing that, I ask, and my voice is lowered to but a hoarse whisper. The stabbing pain is forgotten, but it is still there, I know, because I can feel a numbing sensation spreading throughout my body, starting from my legs. It crawls upwards slowly as this beautiful requiem pounds all it's own agony in loud notes. I'm wondering now, why I can't feel my legs.

I can hear Frank beside me. Frank, who is playing that beautiful music? He doesn't answer, but just breathes raggedly. Frank! Frank! Still no answer. My weeping drowns out the now-soft playing of the piano. My weeping is accompanied by harsh laughter, and quite suddenly, I remember.

Stop it! My screaming is futile though, and the pain throughout me stabs even harder. Oh please, stop, I sob. I feel sick to my stomach, and still lying on the cold, hard ground, the contents of all I have eaten recently come spilling forth. The laughing grows even harsher, more wicked and insane as I puke my guts out.

They will get you, I scream to the Death Eater. I can't think of who he is, because a black veil rests over my vision. But I know that his heart is the blackest of blacks, and I curse him terribly. Moaning, I turn on my back, my body shuddering and shivering from both the unspoken cold and the endless pain. The rancid stench of the wondrous dinner I had stung at my nose. My throat burned from the acids of my stomach.

By now I can not feel my arms. They will not move, no matter how hard I try. Was I in a body bind? Was it paralysis? I could not know. I would not know.

The requiem is loud again, and I think that it is reaching its climax. This is the end. I will have died as one of the Ministry's best aurors. Oh, but what of my son? Of Frank? The sobs rip free from my throat, and I cry out for them. Oh my son, where are you? Neville! Frank!

My voice is falling into a hoarse croak. I can't leave, I will not die, I will not give up like this. My eyes stinging with tears, the black veil of lost hope seems to flutter away. I'm blinking at my blurry surroundings, and slowly, the blurred side effect subside. I see not one, but a group of Death Eaters. They are laughing horribly. One has a strong jaw, and long black hair. She was not beautiful, not glamorous. I recognize her as Bellatrix Lestrange, and a snarl finds its way on my face. You, I cry, and Bellatrix cackles maliciously.

The little wench seems to be made of more, she says cruelly. A twisted smirk lies upon her face. I can see that she is holding her wand, and it is pointed at Frank. Frank is writhing, shivering, and I try to reach out towards him, but something halts me. Fear wraps her chilling embrace around me. Shadows hang like cruel monsters on the wall, and I can see them smiling evilly at me. Go away! I scream at them.

Bellatrix is grinning even more widely now. The old hag's losing her mind, she shrieks, glee ringing in the tones of her disgusting voice. The others laugh and I suddenly feel fiery heat battling against the cold. Warmth spreads through my legs, accompanied by a wetness. Look at that! She's wet herself! More of their cruel laughter echoes around. Tears spill freely once more.

Please, just go away, I whimper, and I try to curl myself into a ball, but my body won't let me. They jeer at me, they make a mockery of me, they do crude things to me while I slowly drift my way through the threshold of insanity. One man even smears hot waste of some animal across my face as they torture me incessantly. I curse them for their 'fun'.

I glare at that one man through my hazy sheet of ongoing tears. With a jolt, I recognize him also, but... it's.. suddenly getting.. hard to remember. I struggle to think now, and I realize. It is Bartemius Crouch Jr! A gasp escapes me as they ridicule me, and I stare at him in disbelief. There is no way -- but I suddenly seem to see the wand grasped tautly in his hand.

The steady requiem of the piano jolts through me. The pain of the Cruciatus Curse finally seems to catch up to me. I scream wildly in pain, I scream with such agony, I scream prayers for mercy. But no mercy comes. The pain was not enough to kill me.

The faces in the dark shadows grow brighter, their blood red eyes smiling wickedly at me. Come play with us, they cackle in their high-pitched voices. I shake my head no. It is too hard to speak now. I feel like my body is being dipped into molten lava, and that knives are carving some haunting piece of art into my skin. My head was throbbing, and throughout it all, the creepy requiem continued its woeful song.

We are not indoors anymore, and there are no longer any Death Eaters around me. I find myself lying, unable to move, upon gray grass. The blades pierce into my skin, and I let out a shriek. The sky is a deep purple, and the trees seemed to grow sweets and chocolates. But black creatures of such frightening evil guard them. Strange creatures are crawling around. Stars are twinkling in the sky despite the sun being out, and it is also raining, even though it is terribly hot. I can see a shining, black piano some ways off, and playing it, I see a young boy of eleven. He looks much like me, with soft, dark brown hair and a delicately plump body. Sorrow is written over his face as he plays this requiem for me. Oh my son, I weep, and suddenly, my arms can move despite that unearthly pain. My arms reach out to him, and beneath the red hot glow of the sun, he falls into my embrace. But the second he touches me, his entire being shatters into a million pieces of glimmering dust. The red sun continues to burn down upon me. Sweat drips from my body, and I can feel it becoming thicker and thicker. Looking down at my arm, I see that the sweat has turned into blood, and I let out a long scream and stand. I begin to run, I run far far away, away from the magical Wizarding World, yet I can still reach out and touch it. But I don't stop to touch it. I run and run, through a door that stands in the middle of no where. And then, as I run through the door, I feel myself falling, and realize it was perched just at the edge of a cliff.

As I fall, the years go by, and I can see the dull, gray waves of the ocean eroding away at a silver, jagged rock. My body falls on it with a sickening crunch, and all goes black. The beautiful requiem slowly ends, and I feel like crying again, but now I don't know why at all.

**-**

**Author's Note;**If you didn't know, this is about Alice Longbottom. It's written strangely, I know, and don't ask why I didn't use quotations when everyone spoke. I just felt it went, as it's all from her point of view and she's telling the story, up to the point where she loses all sanity. I had intended this to be something from Hermione's view at the beginning, then I realized it wasn't going anywhere, and_then_ I realized it would be great if it was a one-shot about Alice being tortured into insanity. Anyway.. I hope it's not too confusing and messed up.


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Harry Potter, Angst, Tragedy