The Raven's Anger

Chapter Twelve

Slytherin Dorms. Near Midnight

Blaise carefully exited the common room, intent on heading to the kitchen for the fifth night in a row. Blaise shook his head, trying to forget the nightmare that woke him up. He nearly vomited as he looked down at his hands and saw, for a split second, bright red blood flowing through his fingertips. He knelt on the ground, lightheaded and dry heaved. Nothing but spittle came out thankfully. Blaise quickly stood back on his feet and made his way down to the kitchens. He faced a portrait of a fruit bowl and tickled the pear. The pear giggled and turned into a green handle. Blaise yanked it open and entered the kitchen. Blaise stumbled and made his way to a small kitchen table. Even this late, there were House-Elves cleaning and preparing for breakfast. Several saw Blaise and one made its way by Blaise.

"Does young Master need anything?"

"Just give me a bottle of Firewhiskey please," Blaise whispered.

The House Elf frowned but quickly retrieved the drink with two empty glasses. Blaise opened the bottle and poured himself a generous amount. The fiery liquor burned his throat but Blaise welcomed the pain. It made his mind forget the haunting stare of Crabbe and Goyle before he shot them. How two small twitches of his fingers ripped the life out of two of his schoolmates that he had known for five years. The sheer callousness and numbness of emotion needed to simply execute them. In that moment that he had Crabbe and Goyle kneeling in front of him, staring up at him and hoping for a chance at mercy, Blaise simply pulled the trigger.

Blaise knocked down another generous amount of whiskey, smiling dimly as he felt the alcohol cloud his thoughts. He poured another glass but stopped when he heard another voice.

"Again here Blaise?"

Blaise turned to see Corvo watching him. Blaise stumbled to his feet and stood at attention.

"Sir!"

"Easy there Blaise. Take a seat and pour me one as well," Corvo said. Blaise nodded and poured two glasses of whiskey. Corvo swallowed a generous amount but eyed Blaise as he knocked the large amount of whiskey down his throat.

"You feel guilty right? And you're having nightmares huh?"

Blaise nodded. Corvo sighed.

"I had that problem too. My first kill was when I was thirteen and I was a mess. Yet I manage."

"How?"

"The thing with the Unforgivables is that you need real intent to use them. Crabbe and Goyle were dumb as a bag of hammers. However they were able to use the curse meaning that they truly enjoyed causing pain. Idiotic bullies now but they can grow into idiotic monsters whose only desires are pain."

Blaise nodded. Tipsy he may be, Corvo's words seemed to clear the miserable cloud that fogged Blaise's mind.

"You know it was right to kill them, yet you cannot see the reason. Let me give you a reason. You saved my girlfriend from more pain. Furthermore you saved Tracey. From what Daphne told me, Tracey would have become seriously injured if you had not intervened. Because of you, Tracey is not a catatonic or moody person. She won't forget the pain and fear. But hopefully after some time passes, she'll become the same girl that loves to annoy us."

Corvo filled Blaise's glass.

"For such monsters like Crabbe and Goyle, a quick death is the best mercy. The other fate for such monsters is to go mad under the dementors. So pick up you glass for the saved future innocents and go to bed," Corvo said. "We have school tomorrow."