Irya Aillie Stark - D. M. (Harry Potter x Marvel)

MUTATION

I look all around me, but all I see is pitch black, endless darkness.

Is this the afterlife? It looks empty, but at the same time it's full of feelings, every feeling and emotion I've ever had in all my life all at the same time, it's overwhelming. There's every single feeling, but even though I feel the love and the happiness, the feeling of loneliness, sadness and fear are the most present ones.

I look at myself, my hands look sickly pale- no, deadly pale. Well I mean I am dead, right?

Right?

All I can see is myself, surrounded by the darkness. Is this where I get to spend the rest of eternity? That'd be both calming and scary, I don't think I want to spend the rest of everything alone, lost in the emptiness of whatever this place is.

The thought of it started becoming scary, utterly scary. I feel my breath getting out of control and I find myself hyperventilating, getting horribly afraid of being here alone, of not seeing anyone else ever again.

My uneven breathing gets worse the more I think about everyone in my life, every person I ever met and specially those I loved, or more like the one person I got to deeply fall in love with.

And then my mind gets invaded with those whose fault it is that I am here. Oh how I wish I could go back in time and get every single last bit of air out of their lungs, so I could make them pay for the pain I'm feeling right now, knowing I have wasted my life.

"Calm down, child." An old and familiar voice echoed all around the place. I turned around wanting to find the source of it, it can't possibly be. Only it was, he was standing right there.

He stood there, looking just like I last remembered him: elegant stance, and his long white beard that always made him have even more of a wisdom aura to him. His eyes serious, like he was scolding me, but when they found my own I could see his gaze soften a bit.

"Hyperventilating won't help you at all." He spoke calmly. I tried to calm myself, focusing on evening out my breath. "That's better."

"What- How- I-" I didn't really what I should say, what do you do after you kill him? It seems that life (or death, whatever it is) is having a lot of fun reminding me I am an assassin, a monster, that I have so much blood on my hands.

"It wasn't innocent blood, Irya, you mustn't forget that." My attention snapped back to him, what the hell?

"It still doesn't change the fact that I am a monster." My voice came out weak, shaking. A single tear ran down my cheek, and I hurried to cleaned the rest before allowing them to run free.

"You're not a monster. You're not at fault for trying to help others, to fight to try and save yourself, even if that means hurting others you're not doing it because you enjoy doing it. You are just trying to survive." Oh Dumbledore, ever so wise. I refuse to believe his words, I know what I am and I know there's nothing that can justify what I've done. Even more so when it's been useless.

"It was useless either way. I died anyway, and I can't help Potter from here, so it's not even worth it. Everything I went through was in vain, my whole life was a waste." It's true, I didn't get to be the perfect weapon Voldemort wanted me to be, I didn't get to be even remotely helpful to Potter, I didn't do anything good, all I ever did was bring chaos and destruction.

"It's not been a waste. But I do think, however, that your life was cut short long before it had to." He started to look around, trying to find something, anything, in the darkness that surrounded us.

"Well, I wasn't strong enough to get through it I suppose." I sighed. "Professor, where are we?"

"I was just about to ask you the same question, Irya. Where do you think you are?"