Harry Potter: Shape of Destiny

"Eighty eight, eighty nine..." A slow deep pant counted slowly in between huffs. "Ninety, ninety one..." The slow counting continued even has a low light broke into the dark room. The dawn's light slowly revealing a untidy room of a fifteen year old boy, papers and books scattered across the floor from a week of being pent up. "Ninety two, Ninety three." The light beamed in more slowly lightening up the slow counter in midst of his excersises. The boy's hair falling loosely around his head has he forced himself up from the ground again with a low grunt. "Ninety four." His muscles screamed for release from the endless workout feeling strained to the very limits of what it could do and he went down again, forcing himself up again with another low grunt. "Ninety five..." The boy muttered again, his emerald eyes locked on the wood floor underneath him has he pushed up again.

Dark rings visable under them from a week deprived of sleep, there was no such thing has rest for this boy. "Ninety six" He counted again his voice mustered again feeling that soon he would need to count in his head afraid of wasting his energy in counting. "Ninety seven..." He barely whispered has he shoved himself up again blinking the sweat from his face has he lowered himself again pushing up agian with his enegries almost spent. "Ninety eight." He counted again feeling his stomach and arms reeling agian from the effort it took for him to uphold his body in this condition.

His vision blurred abit has he pushed himself up again. 'Ninety nine." He said with an whiserped regret, he would stop working out soon.. and then the feeling would come back again. That endless sorrow that drove him to nearly break his body everyday. That same sorrow that forced him to wear himself out past the point of dreams... where the laugh was waiting for him.

That high pitched cold laugh, that brought both uncontrollable rage and sorrow in the same instant. The same voice that belonged to the man that he knew he must kill or be killed by. "Two hundred." The boy muttered feeling himself crumble has he lay there in a pool of his own sweat, that slowly began to get mixed in with tears. Tears for all those that had fallen for him when he deserved it not. Those that he killed.

He knew everyone kept saying it wasn't his fault but deep down he didn't believe it... he couldn't it just wasn't in his soul to dismiss the fact that his actions and his birth caused the life of the people he cared the most about. He could feel the sorrow crawling into his stomach chilling him down to his very core, clouding the way his body aching and complained. Covering him in an eternal darkness that seemed to loom over him since he had returned from the ministry that night the night he caused another man to die.

He sighed deeply pushing himself to his knees panting with the effort of it, his emerald eyes wandering over towards his clock that sat a few feet from him. The scarlet numbers reading it was alittle after six, which meant his aunt and uncle would be up soon. He moaned abit again has he lifted himself up to his feet blinking around the room slowly trying to stop his head from spinning from the blood rush. He staggered abit falling onto his bed hard removing his glasses from his wearly eyes he smiled to himself has sleep over came him again.