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Chapter 1 : Ordinary
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 3|
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A man stands in front of his house, he fishes for his keys in his pocket, he is not old. Finally, he finds them and opens the door with a relieved sigh. His house is nice and messy, toys and newspapers scattered over the floor and the furniture.
The trample of little feet running down the stairs resonates through the house. Soon enough, two little children fall into his arms with cries of ‘Daddy! Daddy!’, they chatter away about cakes and fairies, he laughs and hugs them closer to his body.
He has to kneel down to be on the same level as them.
Alerted by the noise, his wife joins them from the kitchen, carrying their little baby child in her arms.
Kissing both of them on their cheeks, the man greets them with a smile on his lips. He is happy to be home. Together they wander into the dining room where dinner awaits them.
‘How was your day?’ the man asks his family, eager to hear their stories.
The children start talking at the same time, their sweet voices loud and excited. He and his wife share a smile, they love their children.
‘Have you been fighting again today? Giving mummy a hard time?’ he asks, pretending to be stern.
They shake their heads with wide eyes, willing to please their father while his wife just rolls her eyes and gives him a secret nod.
After their messy dinner, the children go playing in their room, their parents remain in the kitchen.
Tiredly, the man lights a cigar, his wife waves her wand to make the dishes wash themselves. The baby giggles in its highchair.
‘Did you have a good day at work?’ she asks him with a hint of concern in her voice.
Business hasn’t been going well recently.
Resignedly, he shrugs and takes a drag from his cigar and exhales a puff of smoke.
‘Could’ve been worse. I managed to get a lot done, I’ll be free tomorrow.’
A smile spreads over his wife’s face, they never could spend nearly as much time together as they would like.
He continues: ‘I’m on duty tonight, though. I’ll be home late.’
Her smile falters but she nods understandingly.
‘Of course, it has to be done.’ she says. ‘Do what you have to do.’
‘For the children.’ he says with emphasis.
‘For the children.’ his wife repeats with conviction.
Later that night, the same ordinary man, father, leaves his house.
He is still thinking of his little children, of the innocent look on their sleeping faces after he had read stories to them until their eyes would flutter shut.
But he has to go tonight, he has to fight for what is right.
He closes his eyes like his children upstairs and vanishes with a soft ‘pop’.
The other men are like him. They sit around a table in the dark house, talking.
‘How’s your wife doing? The baby?’ one of his companions asks him. Their wives are friends.
‘Good, jolly good. How are you coming along with your garden?’
The others join in, exchanging stories, complaining about the economy.
The old clock in the corner chimes and the men stand up together. They all wear black.
One after another puts on his silver mask but they are not ashamed.
The men know what they have to do. In groups they disappear to fulfil their deeds.
He arrives in front of a house, the windows are sleeping.
He and his friends stride towards the door, the lock is not a hindrance. He catches a glimpse of a name on the letter box, McK...
He looks away, it doesn’t matter.
For they are beasts and beasts don’t deserve names.
The men search each room, they know where to find them.
In beds they sleep, wands under their pillows.
But they are of no use, the men are prepared.
Laughter fills the house. It’s not happy.
The men stand in a circle around the assembled family on knees.
There are tears in their eyes.
There are children too, but the man doesn’t see his own in them.
He is the first to raise his wand on them, there is joy in his eyes.
When the men leave the house, shards of glass are littering the floor and the bodies.
With wide eyes the family stare at each other but they can’t see.
The snake above them flicks its tongue.
With weary hands the man opens the door to his home.
It is nice and messy and dark.
He trudges upstairs on silent feet, he doesn’t want to wake up his children.
Before going to bed, he gives each of them a gentle kiss and smiles down on them.
He is happy.
Author's note: Thank you for reading my story.
I never really liked the image of the Death Eaters in Harry Potter, or other bad guys in history, as some kind of heartless, diabolical villains, so I thought I could write a story, which shows that everyone can commit crimes they would usually consider abominable, given they are subject to favourable conditions.
However, I wouldn't mind a review or two if you liked it or not.
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