Bridget sat back onto the couch, holding a pillow to her chest. For a moment, I wonder if I've frightened her. [i]""Alex...I want revenge too. Trust me, I do. But I don't want it like that, to just 'end' the pain and suffering by getting rid of the source. Then I'd feel worse. What I want to do, why I study and connive, it's for a purpose. Someday, I want that jerk - no, that BASTARD - to suffer. I want him to look back and to KNOW where he went wrong. Even if he doesn't regret everything, at least he will know that someone knew about his secrets and mistakes, know that he screwed his own life over."[/i]

I can't help but think she has a point. It would be all to easy for people like her father. Death. It can be such a sweet, easy way out. Death, really, can be an end to suffering. Wasn't there a time that I wanted death? Because, in the end, I knew death would be release. And now? Now what. I'm torn. Because, if people are executed, they cannot come back to hurt people again...however. If you break them...break their spirit, break who they are...

I nod, moving to the chair and plopping down beside her. [b]"You're right,"[/b] I say thoughtfully. [b]"Some do deserve to suffer. And I'll help you, Bridget. I'll help the world. Because I'm going to do my best to become a great wizard. And I'll do my best to make it to where people [i]never[/i] want to bring harm to others. The...consequences will be so great, they will fear it more than a lifetime in AZKABAN!"[/b] I take in a deep breath, eyes flashing darkly. I will make the world a better place. And maybe, just maybe, I'll have someone to help me along, because my road will be a lonely one.

I look over at her, as she takes 3 items from her vault. A quick engorgio spell and I see the pictures. I look at each one as she explains when they were taken. The story behind them. I stare into the eyes of the man, assuredly a dark wizard if I'd ever seen one. Yes, he looked happy, right along with his wife, as they dance. But there was something in those green eyes. A malice. A cold, calculating glint that is unmistakable. The second picture, I see a woman who is weary, already breaking, already torn. The last is heartbreaking. Broken. Given up. On life, on humanity, on everything. I glare with a malice of my own, my hand gripping my wand so tightly, part of me was afraid it might shatter.

[b]"A lifetime in Azkaban would not be punishment enough."[/b] I mutter, my voice low and dark. [i]But a lifetime of slavery, torture, pain beyond his wildest dreams...that would be.[/i] I think to myself. [i]Daily Cruciatus curses. Beating, healings, rebeatings. Bloodlettings, bringing him to the brink of death until he begged for the last drops to be spilled just so he could be released from his misery. THAT would be a more befitting punishment.[/i]

[i]"As for you, you should do the same thing. Study, look for clues, and someday, when you know who did these atrocious things, you make them PAY for it. They can't pay if they're dead."[/i] I look over, drawn from my dark thoughts, as she places the book in my lap. I nod, then as she watches, slowly turn the pages, ready to take in whatever happens to be etched in these pages. 

[i]"They can't pay if they're dead."[/i] Those words will stay with me. I'll look back on this day, in the future. This is where it starts. How do you combat people like He Who Must Not Be Named? Make examples. Show the world that people like that will not be tolerated. Make them beg for death, then continue to make them suffer. THAT is how you combat people like the Dark Lord. And that, is just what I intend to do.