------------------------ Authors Notes ------------------------
This is my first foray into the writing of fan-fiction, it is short and angsty but here it is.
Set in the seventh year, (ignoring all others) the war is not going well, the school has become the refuge of what is left of the light, and is in a constant state of siege.
------------------------ Death of Hope ------------------------
"Harry! Wait! I need to tell you something."
Harry stops walking but doesn't turn around.
"I need to tell you, I've wanted to say something for soo long now but I was so scared of what you'd say, if you would hate me, or how much things would change between us,"
At this point, harry turns to face her, his longest surviving friend since Ron was taken earlier in the year, a bad feeling welling in his heart.
"Calm down Hermione, this isn't the time."
He tries to keep walking, knowing where this was going, but desperate not to hear it.
"No, I have to tell you, I love you. I can't think anymore, I..."
...CRACK...
Harry slapped her across the face, leaving her sprawled on the floor looking up at him with tears in her big brown eyes, clutching her cheek, quietly sobbing.
"Fuck you Hermione, you had 7 years to say this shit and you choose now? I'm going to die out there! My life now is measured in minutes, not hours or days, years, MINUTES!"
A small crowd was beginning to form around the pair, what was left of the light was drawn to the pair like moths to the flame.
"Did you think knowing this would make me feel better? That it would give me the will to live? That this would be the power he knows not? I'm telling you now, there is nothing about the will to live that that monster does not know!"
Hermione shudders and tries to protest that while they live, there is still hope.
Harry doesn't even hear her.
"How the fuck can I beat that thing? I stand no chance but I'm going out there right now because it's the only thing left for me to do, we had our chance, we didn't do enough, we didn't work hard enough! We didn't start early enough! This war is his! Now all there is left for us is to die on our feet."
The crowd gasps.
Harry doesn't notice.
In a quiet tone that everyone had to strain to hear, Harry continued.
"I'm telling you now, if he fires an AK at you, don't dodge, I've seen what he does to his prisoners, believe me I am praying that death will come easily for all of us, and you should do the same, I've seen people..."
Harry said, removing the hair from his forehead, showing the scar that has plagued his life.
"...Dive in front of the killing curse; not out of loyalty, not love, not pride, but jealousy... can you fathom that, Hermione? That a beloved would steal your painless death so they wouldn't be the one to be taken?"
The silence is deafening in the great hall, to hear this, knowing that what he has said is true, not even able to imagine what he has seen, knowing that Ron was taken, not killed on the battlefield.
"Goodbye Hermione, dodge anything red, dive for anything green that is the new motto of the light. Good luck, I hope to see you all on the other side."
It was the first time he had acknowledged that he was not alone with his closest friend.
The silence consumes everything as he walks out of the great hall and towards the hordes of men in black robes, the last hope of the wizarding world walks to his death.