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Inspired by [livejournal.com profile] we_are_not_evil:

Title: Of Evil (subject to change . . . I dunno if I like it).
Author: [livejournal.com profile] tabular_rasa (aka MurasakiNeko).
Rating: R, to be safe.
Warning(s): Spoils everything and its mother . . . maybe not now, but it probably will.
Summary:
The Death Eaters explain their side of the story. They are, after all, human.
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter or any of J.K. Rowling's characters. Apparently I don't even own the philosophy. Dumbledore had it covered– and he's right, I promise you! He's right! *Censored* IS NOT EVIL!!!

Chapter:
Introduction.
Chapter Title: The Death Eaters.
Character(s): . . . the Death Eaters?

Recommended Listening: "Adagio for Strings" by William Orbit.



"Is there not in every human soul an essential spark, an element of the divine, indestructible in this world and the next, which goodness can preserve, nourish, and fan into glorious flame, and which evil can never quite extinguish?" -Victor Hugo, Les Miserables.


"They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating towards a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty." -Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

We all joined for need of something. For some of us, it was acceptance-- by family, by peers, or by society. For others, it was to fill a gaping void created by years of unfulfilling life. For a few, it was merely a means of excusing what already was. It added purpose to nihilism, goal to existence, wholeness to incompleteness, meaning to vacuum, and belonging to loneliness. Nevermind the consequences.

Judge us for what we are. We do not doubt there shall be condemnation.

Oh, we are terrible, we Death Eaters. Terrible, horrible, appalling, unspeakable, evil.

This evil– perhaps there is no denying it. It permeates our lives– the deaths we wreak, the lives we destroy, the hopes we shatter. Yet with that, do we not lose part of ourselves? The Dark Arts require destruction for creation; it is the root and source of their magic.

How is it we became this way? Were we a special race born of darkness? Is the very root of evil implanted in our souls? Does it tear the goodness from our bones, sucking like a dementor from us any hope of redemptive qualities?

You judge far too harshly. We are merely weak. We are but human.

Author's Note: I actually wrote this introduction in Sociology class while studying gang, cult, and clique behavior, last May or so, believe it or not. That I come so close to J.K. Rowling's own words almost scares me- but I'm much more optimistic (and, I swear, I'm not plagiarizing). Waves hands proudly in the air. Dumbledore is my over-trusting homeboy! Woot woot! Gets shot.

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