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He could do nothing.
For the first time in a long time, his body would not or could not react to something.
And he stood there, still and frozen. As if in time itself.
It came at him. Funny how things have a way of repeating themselves.
That light, always the same green flash, had a way of upturning any one's life. But specifically- his own.
It took his parents when he was a child and left him an orphan with a scar and a famous name in a burned, hollow house. He'd watched a classmate fall victim to it. It took his mentor's life. It killed so many people.
And yet there were simple restrictions on a powerful curse such as that. You had to mean it. Simple as that. And somehow, he never could.
So now as he stood reflecting on the name and his life connected to it in general, he found that he didn't want to move. Not that he was one to want an end to his life. On the contraire, he wished his life had been longer and full of more fond memories.
He stood there and thought back to the warmth of the Gryffindor common room and the wind rushing past his face while flying on a broom or the back of a hippogriff. Holding up the winning snitch and hearing the cheers. Sparkling blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles and a strict smile of an animagus professor. Ginny's soft, red long hair and warm brown eyes. Of his two best friends- Ron playing wizarding chess; Hermione with an open tome upon her lap.
Of his Weasley family and all those he was fighting for.
But as he heard the whisper of those two words from his foe's pale lips, as he heard it sizzle in the air as it sailed towards him in all of its horrifying glory- he smiled.
Death is, after all, in some way, closure.
And closure is what everyone wants in the end, isn't it?
Avada Kedavra.
LI
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3 Lightest'Ink
