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Prologue:

“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” ~ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

It was their fifth year at Hogwarts, and yet another battle seemed imminent.

Once again the death eaters had risen to power, lead by a new dark lord, who wanted to avenge his master by wiping out all of those who had wished to see the destruction of the once-great dark establishment.

It was not uncommon for Patrick to hear of another Hufflepuff leaving the school, or for one of the students to receive a letter telling them that 'unfortunately... your family have been killed in a tragic accident...'

Accident...? If each of these casualties was in fact an accident then there had been a rapid increase in people 'accidentally' killing themselves.

In these dark times there were no accidents, only missing people and murders that the ministry could not explain, or rather did not want to explain.

One couldn't use a killing curse on themselves by accident... it was merely the fact that none of the magical community were willing to face up to the fact that there might be a dark movement in the wizarding world...

Too much hope had been pinned on the fact that the noble Harry Potter had destroyed the original dark lord... why did everyone expect evil just to decide to pack its bags and leave whenever one of the bigger sources had been wiped out?

Patrick often thought to evil as being 'a bit like a starfish', if you cut off one of its arms, a whole other starfish will grow back.

If you were to destroy one part of evil, just another bitter person would come along and try to resurrect it....

Surely people weren't naive enough to believe everything was going to be okay...?

Patrick didn't think that people should just sit back and let bad things happen because everyone was scared to admit that bad things were happening...

...and yet people still were.


*writers comments:
this is a fall out boy fan fiction set at Hogwarts...
lots of the story is based around the Harry Potter novels, so it would be good to get a bit of background before reading ^^
comments are love- and i'm not sure about continuing, so some feedback on that would be nice too :) 
hope you enjoy!
Top_hat Xx*

 

Tales of The Bitter and Twisted

sometimes it feels like it's only me, who can curl up in such pain, it makes me want to scream, or cry.

anything to release all of the hurt which seems to scratch me from the inside out.

I have never been one to cry; some call me hardened by the world, and others just call me plain bitter, and hell, it's not their life, it has always been just my life.

sometimes life gets hard, and it can just isolate you from the rest of the world.

that's how I feel anyway... isolated, as if it is only me who hurts, or bleeds, or cries.

I have never been one for listening to little-miss-sob-story.

quite frankly, I don't have the patience, nor the nerve to listen to it.

I try not to get too attached to people, because letting people in will only hurt me, and I think that every person who cries to me over their broken heart, should remember; it was their own damn fault for letting someone get close enough to touch them, or kiss them, or pretend that they love them.

that is how I feel, or rather, how I used to feel.

I remember a time, when I used to feel immortal; a fifteen year old girl, with long black hair, baggy clothes, and dark brown-grey eyes, which stood out against my pale skin, like dark light trapped in the eyes of a statue carved in ice.

my sweeping fringe would hang over my face, hiding it from the world.

it's not like the world ever wanted to actually see my face.

the world that I know would only highlight all the tiny imperfections, and compare me to some washed up pop singer, who it worships, just because their photos are splashed across the pages of every teen magazine on the shelves of every chain store.

I don't want every celebrity obsessed teenage commodity in my year to stare at me as I walk by in the corridors.

to be quite honest, I loathe people like that, and I am sure they loathe me right back.

I'd rather just let them guess about me, as they watch me become the Mona-Lisa-type enigma that I so long to be.

there was a time when I was forgiving, and not quite so bitter.

a time when I let someone into my head and my heart.

and for once, I feel that I am to become little-miss-sob-story, just to tell you how I became what I am now, and how I lost that little part of me that a few people loved along a blemish, much like a smudge of ink on a piece of white paper, in my life.

one thing's for sure.

the day that everything happened, was the day my tears dried up, for such a long time, it almost felt like an eternity.

an eternity in which I became the only person who could ever tell you of a tale entitled: Tales of The Bitter and Twisted.

in which I am the main character.

being shaken from my own private world of dreams, by the loud ringing of the downstairs doorbell is not what I would call 'the ideal awakening'.

I shifted slightly, my eyes still closed tight, a slight line appearing between my eyebrows, as I screwed up my face against the morning light, which was attempting to pry them open.

much like the typical teenage misfit that I was back then, I grunted, pulling the covers over my head.

my long black hair, had began to curl again, since I had showered before I went to bed, and as I heard my mother say,

“go right up, James.”

my eyes snapped open from beneath the covers.

I heard footsteps on the creaky wooden stairs of my 1970s style house, and someone enter my room.

their breathing was light, and I could tell he would have his familiar smirk all over his face.

I lay there silently, the covers of my bed still folded tightly over my head, trying hard not to let the smirk which had curled my lips, transform into a laugh.

I heard his footsteps creaking over the carpeted floor of my bedroom, and I then felt his weight upon the end of my bed, as he sat next to me.

he pulled the covers down from my face, which revealed my dark eyes, which scanned his black fringe that covered one of his iron grey eyes.

he smiled down at me.

“hiding under the covers from me, are you?” he said jokily.

I rolled over and pretended I wasn't bothered by his arrival, hiding my face as I was smirking.

“oh, I thought it was someone important...” I said, my voice full of a mockingly sarcastic sneer.