Not the Beginning of the Story but The... // Self-Para
Perhaps Pippen had grown careless, or perhaps that thought that he was invincible had manifested inside of his ego so much that night, but Pippen was in trouble. It started with a letter to his baby sister, a simple “I need to work late tonight” nothing specific, vague as he could be in order to not worry anyone. He had ignored all precautions about staying out so late on his own. He was an adult, he had thought, he didn’t need to listen to these rules meant to protect a group of children in a war. He had been walking around the castle, seeing his childhood fall apart. His pictures held such destruction, such gruesome scenes of death and pain, and it was all happening here at the birthplace of his first novel. This had been his home for so long, and before the war began it still seemed like his home in a strange obscure sense of the word. But this wasn’t his home, not anymore, his home was with his baby sister, and the stray children she took in and he couldn’t keep track of. Suddenly he heard a moan, on the ground was the fat lady, she looked to be a little shaken in front of the Gryffindor common room. Her fallen picture reminded him of when he was a boy, jumping from heights, fighting the womping willow, going on great adventures with his friend, nothing could hurt him, nothing could touch him. He lived on the edge and he loved every minute of it. Not to say things had changed though, Pippen had always been an adrenaline junky.
The hall was silent otherwise, in an eerie sort of way. In the distance spells could be heard but it was not the chaos it had been early on this week or even earlier that day, there was a serene feel of zen about this place that left Pippen feeling antsy and anxious. Pulling out his wand he was careful to be sure he was prepared, if someone attacked he wanted to be ready. In the dark he heard footsteps, the padding of feet, but when he looked there was no one there. Pippen continued to take pictures in the dark, jotting down a few notes about the setting, how the stairs had stopped moving and the whole east side of the building seemed to have collapsed, Hogwarts looked like it had been hit with a bomb, he could only hope it would be restored again. This was those kids home, and this was the story of their home, it deserved to stand and be remembered.
Pippen was taking a picture of the east wall when the trouble began, he had been trying to get a nice shot of spells flying a little farther back and the wall’s destruction. He thought it would fit nicely next to Jim’s interview, the most important of all the interviews he had done. But, through the silence came a growl. Turning the camera there quickly, snap, he took a picture three large wolves standing behind him. “Shit.” He whispered stumbling, throwing his camera to the side and grabbing his wand. He shouldn’t have been out here so late, it was a mistake on his part. “Just think about what you’re doing here, pups.” He stated holding out his wand threateningly. He was confident he would be fine, he always was. He was the invincible Pippen, brave, smart, and skilled. He wasn’t afraid of a couple of werewolves. “I just think that you won’t like your actions later in life, you’ll look back and think, I wish I hadn’t joined Rattigan’s side. Isn’t that right?” If only they were human, he would be able to understand their expressions at least. But the bared teeth and low growls told a story all their own, one he did understand. They stood at the ready, hunched down and prepared to attack. Pippen knew he had to run, but what fun was that? What kind of story would he have if he simply ran?
“Stupefy.” He casted at the first wolf as it prepared to attack, hitting square on his target, Pippen knew he could win this, he could be the next great story himself. Pippen was proud, he could easily tame them all, just watch. Deciding this was more a game than a battle he began to tease the other two wolves as they growled at him. “Watcha got pups? Bring it. You can’t touch me.” But, from behind Pip, he heard the distinct growl of another wolf. A fourth, a fifth, a sixth… Who knew how many were behind him, their eyes seemed to glow with delight. “Oh come on you guys don’t play fair,” He laughed light heartedly. “Well I guess I am the one with the wand still... “ Quickly he turned, “Petrificus Totalus!” He said to one of the wolves behind him, as he began to run back towards the castle. “Stupefy! Expulso!” He was running, jumping, leaping. Pippen had never felt younger or more alive. Adrenaline pumped through his system like a drug. No one could touch him, he was untouchable, invincible, unachievable, unimaginable and completely and utterly… Human. Pippen hadn’t thought of how fast the wolves could run or how many spells he could cast to keep off six wolves. But he was a dead man running, as they caught up, but Pip was still smiling. Throwing curses and charms, he was having the time of his life. He was blindsided, the wolf who gave him that first and inevitably fatal attack, came from behind. The wolf’s teeth latched to Pip’s neck, cutting off his air and began ripping him to shreds. The other wolves followed behind, jumping on the now limp body that lay on the floor of the great hall. No body was left when the wolves were done, all that remained were the camera and the notepad of the blood stained story he had died for.
