A/N: Considering I've only written a single one-shot in this world, I find myself thinking about it rather a lot. Maybe I'll get around to writing something more substantial about it in the future, but for now this is just what started out as a drabble and evolved into a... something.
Please review, I love to hear what you like about my writing along with any criticisms/ things you think I could do to improve my writing.
(one)
Hermione Granger.
Hermione Granger is a bookworm, a stickler for rules and morals and ethics and doing what is right over what is easy. Hermione Granger is muggleborn and proud of it, not because she likes to rebel against the blood purists, but because she has the intelligence to see how the knowledge of two worlds could only help her in the long run. Hermione Granger is in love with her best friend- not because it is expected of her, or because she is naive enough to think he is perfect, but because she sees the good in him that greatly outweighs the bad; she sees him struggle and she sees him fall sometimes but he always gets back up and carries on fighting.
Hermione Granger is standing at the head of the Great Hall, her brown curls falling in a tangled mass down her back and her golden robe hanging from her skinny frame in tatters. Hermione Granger is no longer hidden behind the white mask that she had worn at the beginning of the battle, and right now she cannot decide if this is a good thing or not- to stay cowering behind a disguise or to let herself be seen. Hermione Granger is undecided about too many things these days, which is strange because she always was the one who knew all the answers.
Hermione Granger could never see how the answer was this, and she wonders now if perhaps she should have said something back then, back when it mattered.
(two)
Ronald Weasley.
Ronald Weasley never before had any form of delusions of grandeur. Ronald Weasley was overshadowed, yes, by a great many people but as he grew up a bit he realised that he didn't mind it quite as much as he had always thought he was supposed to. But Ronald Weasley has always known who and what and how he was and he had never before had any problems with any of it. Ronald Weasley has never cared how the universe was made or how magic worked or why his best friend could suddenly turn from plain to beautiful in the blink of an eye. Ronald Weasley is one of those rare people who accept that life is as it is and proceed to live it, leaving the questions for those with more chance of answering them.
Ronald Weasley is lying underneath his dead brother and he is covered in blood and tears and ash. Ronald Weasley's golden robe has long since been stained red as his hair and though he still clutches a dagger in his left hand he never once used it. Ronald Weasley could not bear to raise that dagger and that is why his brother is dead and for the first time in his life Ronald Weasley is questioning why. Why is there so much death and hate and blood and blood and why is there so much fucking blood?
Ronald Weasley is generally anything but practical and he is slightly fascinated to realise that his irrationality has not abandoned him today as he lies huddled (safe, protected) underneath the heavy corpse of his sibling.
(three)
Harry Potter.
Harry Potter is a hero, an icon and a saviour and a scared little boy huddling in the dark of his cupboard. Harry Potter stands up for those who cannot stand up for themselves and he saves those who cannot save themselves and he does it all with a song in his heart and a skip in his step. Harry Potter is a Slytherin in Gryffindor clothing but his disguise is so good that even he cannot see through it these days, so shhh, don't tell. Harry Potter is a Gryffindor through and through. Harry Potter is in love with his best friend's younger sister not because it is easy (it is anything but easy) but because it is expected of him. Harry Potter will always do what is expected of him.
Harry Potter is on his knees with his avada eyes wide open and tears are running down his cheeks leaving streaks of white skin amidst the dirt that covers his face. Harry Potter's thick black hair is clinging to his forehead, soaked through with sweat and blood and the body of Tom Riddle lies in front of him, more beautiful in death than it ever was in life. Harry Potter is alive but he shouldn't be because he should have died everyone expected him to die.
Harry Potter had always assumed that he had no future and, all appearances to the contrary aside, perhaps he was right all along.
