Coward I started with the firm conviction that when I came to the end, I wanted to be regretting the things I had done, not the things I hadn't.
Now I'm not so sure.
But I will be regretting the things I did.
My name is Karkaroff. Ivan is my first name, but nobody except my mother has ever called me by it. Nobody human except my mother.
My life hasn't exactly been the purest. It started out not too bad...but I remember the time things changed.
That one summer...the one summer where my life changed.
The summer that was so abysmally cold that we wished for a Heat Wave. We wished for a parching drought. But no Heat Wave came. The coldest time I can remember.
I'll remember it for you, and then maybe you'll understand why I turned out like I did...
~*~*~*~*~*
"Ivan! Get out of bed, stupid boy, do you want to miss your first day?" My mother yelled.
I rolled out of bed and hit the floor hard. I threw my blankets off with an effort. It was freezing. I shivered as I washed my face with cold water. I threw a disgusted look at my appearance and proceeded to put on some clothes.
Nothing I had looked good. My robe edges were all frayed. That was what came of living in a house of five boys. The constant competitions, the teasing, the bullying...
I hated it with a vengeance.
I stumbled downstairs last and quickly ate my breakfast of Sauerkraut and bread. My brothers were all talking and laughing together. I was by far the youngest of the lot. The others had one year or so separating each of them but I had three. I was eight whole years younger than Karl, the eldest.
He hardly spoke to me. He worked at Durmstrang.
My mother bustled around, adjusting a fastening here, a robe edge there. She didn't even glance my way. She patted Karl on the head.
Ivan would, of course, take care of himself. He didn't need anyone's help. That's what everyone assumed. It made me boil with rage. Why did I have to be the independent one?
"Come on, baby, we are leaving now." Karl said, sardonically, getting up from the table. "Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything?"
I didn't reply, but instead hurried to fetch my single bag and broomstick. I arrived back down as mother was pushing the last bag into the trunk of the car.
"Ivan! Why are you always the last? Can you not be more punctual? Where did I go wrong?" She started to mutter rapidly. I sighed.
I hated it when she tried to guilt-trip me. "Sorry, ma." I said, and squashed myself in. She shook her head and went back inside.
"Are you nervous, baby? Don't be, because everyone will hate you same as last year, don't worry." Karl said. He really hated me.
"Why do you hate me Karl?" I asked, surprising myself with my boldness.
The question seemed to catch him off guard. "I don't know..." He stopped and then fixed me with his eye. "For being you."
The rest of the journey passed in silence.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Hey Karkaroff, come here." A tall, muscled boy called. I trotted up obediently. He was the school bully. Kristofer, his name was.
"I don't like you."
"I'm sorry." I said, stupidly.
"You're such a teachers pet...always showing off, doing fancy stuff with that wand of yours. You think we don't notice? You're not like your brothers, you're different. Always alone...are you queer? Huh, are you?" He stopped and glared at me.
I knew what being 'queer' was. It meant not liking girls, liking boys...it also meant isolation from the Wizarding community. I had never liked a girl. Was I queer? The question had haunted me.
"Where's your wand, I want to teach you a lesson."
My hands trembled. I could feel him tug the wand out of my shaking fingers.
He held my wand right in front of my noise and smiled venomously.
"Let's see how you do fancy stuff now." With a malicious crack he broke my wand in two.
Sparks shot out of it and the air crackled. Confusion showed in Kristofer's face and he dropped the wand quickly.
I bent over and picked up my broken wand. It sparked and bits exploded. There was nothing I could do.
This was my life. Ivan Karkaroff, human doormat. Please, just walk all over me. I must have a sign saying 'victim' on my back. Why else would all this happen to me?
I scurried dejectedly into my room and sat on the edge of my bed. The mountains and the lake were beautiful but they held no interest for me. My eyes fell onto my broomstick.
I ran a hand over the Shooting Star's handle. I had never been allowed to ride it before. I felt the irresistible urge to climb on it and soar away...
Melt into the clouds where there was no Karl Karkaroff, no Kristofer...
I held onto my broom tightly and climbed out onto the ledge. I looked at the school grounds below and felt slightly nauseous. It was a long way down.
I don't know what I was thinking, but I must have been subconsciously suicidal. I squatted onto my Shooting Star, and without even one lesson, pushed off from the high ledge.
For a second I remained, suspended in mid air, caught on a crystal current.
Then in a haze, the ground whooshed upwards to greet me with alarming speed. The wind stung my face and my hair flew backwards.
I would have been afraid but it happened too quickly. Suddenly the world went black.
~*~*~*~*~
I woke to someone slapping my face hard. "Karkaroff! Karkaroff!" I heard an urgent whisper and opened my eyes slowly.
I flexed my fingers but stopped because of the pain. Every inch of my body ached dully. "Gnnnaghh!" I gasped.
"What? Karkaroff, are you all right?" A girl, a girl was standing over me and actually talking to me.
My brothers had gotten everything in the ways of looks and conversation so I had never really talked to girls too much.
"Yes, I suppose." I said, cautiously. She was probably affirming that I wasn't dead before bursting out laughing because I fell off my broomstick.
Only an utter dolt could do that.
"Thank Magic! I thought you were dead for sure! Those Shooting Stars are hard brooms to ride at the best of times, it's too windy now." As she said it I became aware of a chill wind ripping into my robes.
"What's your name?" I ventured. She was pretty, this girl. Long black hair, big brown eyes. Nice creamy chocolate skin. I drew into myself, I had always been afraid of beauty.
I had none myself and knew how terrible I should look to those who are aesthetically perfect.
"Laure, Laure Dupont. Call me Laura, nobody can speak French here." She said, flipping her hair.
"You're French?" She nodded and smiled. "So how come you don't go to Beauxbatons?" Her expression darkened.
"I want a little...extra in my education that Hogwarts and Beauxbatons will not give. Want an Every Flavour Bean?" She asked, holding out a large packet.
I took one and bit into it cautiously. "I'm lucky, it's chocolate." I said, munching happily.
She bit into one and grimaced. "Peanut butter and jelly, yeuch!" She tore a piece off the packet and spit hers into it. "I must be jinxed." She sighed and smiled at me. "Come on, it's getting late, we should get back inside. Are you sure you don't want to visit Madam Healitt?"
I nodded no quickly. The very thought of Madam Healitt's huge frame and vicious glare made me shiver. I followed her up to the front stairs.
We walked in and the Hall seemed to freeze. Ivan Karkaroff, nerd extraordinaire, was walking in with a beautiful French girl.
"Hey, Laura, is Karkaroff bothering you?" Kristofer asked, getting up.
"I'm fine, Kristofer." She said, in a clear voice. Some semblance of activity resumed.
"Let me take it from here. Get lost, Karkaroff."
I started to walk away with my head down but Laure touched my arm and stopped me. "No, it's fine, Karkaroff will walk me to my dormitory."
I looked up and Laure smiled at me.
Kristofer backed off and turned on his heel.
"You shouldn't let them push you around like that, Karkaroff." She said, seriously.
I shrugged my shoulders. "What can I do?"
"Stand up to them." We reached her dormitory. "Karkaroff, I think you're very sweet, but I cannot, will not be friends with a coward. Stand up for yourself and you'll have a friend."
~*~*~*~*~
The next time Laure and I met was at the School Quidditch Finals. The pitch was empty, but the air had a shimmering quality that meant magic was going to explode there any second.
A large, gilt-edged, jewelled carriage drew up and stopped in the middle of the field. The crowd gasped.
In a sudden flash of lightning the air exploded with red, green and white sparkles. The carriage door burst open and hundreds of the most beautiful women I have ever seen waltzed out.
Their hair spread behind them as if caught on a ghost-wind, their skin shone with iridescence...Veela!
I had never seen them in real life before...I had only seen them on Wizard Screen news. The enchanted moving pictures could not capture their effervescent beauty at all.
A beautiful, winding, penetrating music started. The Veela started to dance, slowly at first, then faster and faster and faster. They careered wildly, spun with abandon and swayed with the wind.
I couldn't think. Such a blissful, incoherent sensation. Numbness penetrated my body.
My whole being was concentrated on one single thought. Don't stop, don't stop, don't STOP!
I wanted to impress them, I looked around for something to do as I walked closer. Laure was giving me a bemused look. I was almost upon them and then the knell of doom fell.
The music and dancing stopped. I started to yell angrily along with most of the other boys. Who cared about Quidditch? I wanted to see the Veela.
In a haze of colour and extreme noise, the two best school teams came on. Seeing them zoom onto the pitch in their glittering uniforms, the Veela were pushed out of my mind. I looked at them. They seemed piqued at the loss of attention. One was standing close to me. I had so say something.
"You know, I'm the best Quidditch player Durmstrang has ever seen! It would be unfair to let me play with these amateurs." I said, quickly. The veela turned her eyes onto mine.
"Really?" Her voice was soft, melodious. I sighed with happiness.
"I've never fallen off a broom, ever!"
"Really?!" This voice was different, mocking. How harsh it sounded compared to the smooth chimes of the Veela.
I took no notice of Laure. The enchanting beauty of the Veela had penetrated my brain.
The Veela gave Laure a scornful look. I didn't blame her. Human beauty was no comparison to the Veela's godliness. "My name is Alaiyen." Her tongue rolled over the syllables, softening them into divine music.
"That is the most beautiful name I have ever heard." I said, rapturously. I was such a stupid fool.
Laure made an exasperated noise and stalked off, muttering under her breath. I couldn't care less. Suddenly, the woman who seemed head Veela made a gesture. The other Veela climbed coquettishly back into the carriage, glancing back and throwing looks at the crowd. Alaiyen started to leave.
"Oh no, Alaiyen, you can't leave!" I exclaimed.
She laughed mockingly. "Humans are so stupid!" She exclaimed, in those mellifluous tones and undulated away.
I came back to my senses. Stupid idiot! You'd better hope Laure will forgive you! I berated myself.
I searched for Laure in the milling crowds and finally found her sitting on a high stand.
"Laura!" I said, sitting next to her self-consciously.
"Oh, got over your Veela, then?" She said, in a hurt tone.
"Aw, Laura, please, I'm so sorry. They're not human, and I think Laure is a prettier name than Alaiyen. And this is my normal, sane self speaking, not a Veela-enchanted one." I drew in a deep breath, surprised at myself.
Laure looked at me, gratified. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever-..."
"Laura!" Kristofer's voice sounded from behind me. "Get lost, Karkaroff, this is my place." He glared at me.
Laura opened her mouth to say something but closed it again. She indicated for me to say something.
"Didn't you hear me, teachers' pet? I said move!" He grabbed my shoulder.
I knew that he would hit me. And I knew that it would hurt. I also knew that I couldn't take the pain. Not for me, not for Laure, not for anybody.
I was a coward. I couldn't stand up for myself. It was just so hard. I loathed myself deeply at that moment.
Without a sound, I got up and started to walk away. I glanced back once and saw Kristofer sitting down. I saw the expression of hurt on Laure's face and wished I was dead.
I had to find some way to stand up for myself.
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Wake up, wake up, Ivan!" A voice hissed in my ear. I awoke, but it was deathly quiet in the dormitory. The night air was frosty. "Come outside, Ivan...come outside."
The voice was inescapable. Almost as involuntarily as I had gone to the Veela I followed it's instructions. The air prickled but I calmly walked outside, into the silvery moonshine.
In the middle of the porch stood a black robed man with his hood up. I advanced closer. He slowly drew his hood down.
His eyes were pulled sideways and were a deep, hate-filled red. His nose was flat and his nostrils slit-like. His mouth was curved into a triumphant smile.
"It's- it's you!" I exclaimed, unable to say his name.
"Can you say my name Ivan? Voldemort." He hissed. "You can't...you're a coward...nobody likes a coward."
I hung my head and gritted my teeth to stop myself from crying out with fear. The Dark Lord. I was conversing with the Dark Lord himself.
"You know, Ivan...I can make you brave...make you powerful...I can help you teach those bullies a lesson...you just have to help me..."
His words echoed in my head. They would fear me...they would respect me...
Laure would like me.
"That's right Ivan, Laure would like you, you'd be brave...she likes bravery. You can show them Ivan..."
I hesitated.
"They will never respect you ever Ivan! They will despise you and look down on you. Coward." He hissed softly. "Coward, is that what you want to be called all your life? Coward!"
A great choking sob threatened to rise in my throat.
"You would be a coward if you did not take his opportunity..."
Laure hated cowards. I couldn't be a coward. I couldn't be a coward. I wouldn't be a coward.
"How can I repay you, my Lord?" I asked, without a doubt.
~*~*~*~*~*~
I lost Laure, if that's what you want to know.
I could have kept her if I wanted, but I had bigger plans for myself. Plans that didn't involve Laure. I didn't really love her after all...we had nothing in common.
She was just the only person to treat me like a human being.
So I got rid of her. She didn't understand that I needed people to respect me, to fear me.
She didn't understand.
It wasn't my fault, my conscience is clear. It wasn't my fault!
I don't know what happened to her, I let my master deal with it. He always knows what is best.
It was just a silly crush! I don't care what happened to her. She's probably not dead anyway, probably married to someone.
I don't know. I don't care!
People have hated me for my cowardice, but I never really had a choice. Now I do, and I choose power. I choose control.
There is nothing to be gained by refusing the Dark Lord.
Why should I care what happens to other people? They've never cared what happened to me.
I'm finally Ivan. Not Karkaroff or 'boy' or 'coward'. Ivan.
~*~*~*~*~*
The door broke with a crash.
"What! What are you doing?" I drew out my wand quick as a flash. "Crucio!"
I shouted curses, pointing at the crowd of people who were all most definitely Aurors.
What was happening? The Aurors couldn't be here...they held no power comparable to the Dark Lord. Unless...unless the Dark Lord was weakened.
So many of my fellow Death Eaters had been captured.
An Auror with half his nose cut off bound me and took away my wand. Moody, Alastor Moody.
"You won't be needing this where you're going...we have a nice, cold cell and Dementors just for you in Azkaban." His voice was filled with loathing.
My insides froze when he said Azkaban.
Not Azkaban! I can't go to Azkaban. My hands trembled and I let out an anguished cry.
Master, help me! I cried silently, pressing on my wrist-brand of the Dark Mark. I can't go to Azkaban! Anything not to go to Azkaban!
"Come on, Karkaroff, move!" This was Durmstrang and Moody was Kristofer.
And I? I was not Ivan.
No, not Ivan, just Karkaroff.