We were the beginning—we seven. We existed since the beginning of time. For years we ruled, for years chaos was our reign. It was decided that we had tipped the scales, that we were unworthy to exercise our balance. There must be as much good in the world as evil, and our existence caused the scales to be tipped in our favor.
Together we were invincible—Death Eaters. Born of darkness and decay, shunning our brethren of the light. But alone, we were fragile and weak.. Alone they took us. We were imprisoned quickly in the depths of a lake in the cave. Our bodies could not break the surface, and so we waited for thousands of years—for aeons—for eternity.
Then HE came. The Dark Lord had heard of us as a child. He neither feared us or hated us. He understood us completely, and it was his desire to channel our power into something that he could use. After so long imprisonment, we consented.
At first we were infused in his spell, the whisper of a word would send out green jets of light that resembled the decay of our skin. “AVADA KEDAVRA!” It became a word feared by all. We were feared again.
He named his people after us, Death Eaters. Somehow, we lived again though still our bodies were sentenced beneath the surface. But he visited us, six more times. Each time, he brought a trinket and asked for our dark power to instill a part of his fractured existence into it. He wanted to live forever.
Then for years, he forsook us. There were whispers he had died, but we knew…he could not die. We knew he would return to us, his only friends. And he did.
But little by little, we were destroyed. One by one we perished as his horcrux’s were destroyed. We saw the long-beareded white one come—the one HE feared. We shrank in horror beneath the surface—those of us who were left and the minions we had acquired. But we felt him, there in the boy. The boy was the last horcrux of our Dark Lord.
We felt our doom coming. One by one my brethren faded in screams of agony, until I alone was left. But I could not die, the boy would not die to kill him. But with a fierce, blinding pain—I discovered I was wrong.
The last vestige of us left in a spell that cannot be destroyed, because death cannot die.
Avada Kedavra!
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