Disclaimer: I do not owe "the filthy Slytherin", Hermione, Weasley, Potter or Voldemort, they belong to Joanne Kathleen Rowling. They are also owed by Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Press, Sholastic, Raincoast Books, and many others. I, however, owe the plotline.
~*~
I looked down the ravine. It was most certainly steep.
"Well duh, it is a ravine, what did you expect?" an annoying voice said in the back of my head.
I hated the voice. I loathed it. But I always listened. Like now.
The newspapers are full of it. Her death. Seeing it makes me unhappy, and I break down. Sobbing like everybody else. For the memory of an Auror who died at the hands of Voldemort, eighteen years old.
A part of me wants to get revenge. A revenge that I will never have. And one part of me wants to be with her again. It wants to die too. Because I love her.
I have lost many friends in that faithful night. I lost everyone who was dear to me. Yet her death shattered me the most. I do not know why. Maybe it is because she loved me and I loved her. Or maybe it is just because she died the most horrific death of them all.
Now I can just see you thinking: 'why does a filthy Slytherin love a Gryffindor'. Because she understands me. She knows what I am feeling. She is the only one who can.
And the best of all is that she knew that she was going to die one or another way. She knew about his plans to kill her, Weasley and Potter. Those two got out alive. Damn you! If it was not for Potter she would have been alive. It is all his fault.
I wept openly besides her body. I did not care who saw me. Her parents were at her funeral. I could not face them. I am a coward.
She spoke six simple words before she died. I will never let you go.
I made my decision. I am choosing for the die part. I jumped into the ravine.
I let everything go.
I let everyone go.
But I was holding onto her.
Hermione.
~*~
Author's Note: Well, that was depressing. I think that you all could tell who the Slytherin was. Please tell me what you think! Should I continue this fiction, and tell you what exactly happened when Hermione died? Or should I just leave it here?
~*~
I looked down the ravine. It was most certainly steep.
"Well duh, it is a ravine, what did you expect?" an annoying voice said in the back of my head.
I hated the voice. I loathed it. But I always listened. Like now.
The newspapers are full of it. Her death. Seeing it makes me unhappy, and I break down. Sobbing like everybody else. For the memory of an Auror who died at the hands of Voldemort, eighteen years old.
A part of me wants to get revenge. A revenge that I will never have. And one part of me wants to be with her again. It wants to die too. Because I love her.
I have lost many friends in that faithful night. I lost everyone who was dear to me. Yet her death shattered me the most. I do not know why. Maybe it is because she loved me and I loved her. Or maybe it is just because she died the most horrific death of them all.
Now I can just see you thinking: 'why does a filthy Slytherin love a Gryffindor'. Because she understands me. She knows what I am feeling. She is the only one who can.
And the best of all is that she knew that she was going to die one or another way. She knew about his plans to kill her, Weasley and Potter. Those two got out alive. Damn you! If it was not for Potter she would have been alive. It is all his fault.
I wept openly besides her body. I did not care who saw me. Her parents were at her funeral. I could not face them. I am a coward.
She spoke six simple words before she died. I will never let you go.
I made my decision. I am choosing for the die part. I jumped into the ravine.
I let everything go.
I let everyone go.
But I was holding onto her.
Hermione.
~*~
Author's Note: Well, that was depressing. I think that you all could tell who the Slytherin was. Please tell me what you think! Should I continue this fiction, and tell you what exactly happened when Hermione died? Or should I just leave it here?