Dedicated to my beloved dog Rusty, who died a few days before I wrote this.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Potterverse or any recognizable characters, but the two OCs are mine.

Orphans

No-one cares about orphans. No matter how many of them die. It's the popular, high-profile deaths that attract attention. The death of an orphaned boy who died fighting for what he believed in will go unnoticed; except for me, his best friend and only friend.

James and I were both orphans, brought up in the same orphanage. We received our Hogwarts letters together, and we were Sorted into Ravenclaw together. We kept to each other, not because our fellow Ravenclaws were unfriendly – far from it – but because we simply preferred each other. We were closer than most siblings, because it wasn't a blood bond that connected us; it was something more. Perhaps it was the fact that we'd grown up together. We weren't in love, as some thought. We were simply friends who were so close that sometimes, words weren't necessary.

We knew nothing about our families except their names, and that both were murdered by Death Eaters for being 'mixed'. And so we planned to be Aurors, to capture Death eaters and prevent more children from growing up the way we did. I never knew Harry Potter personally, but I could symphatise with him. I'd heard rumours of the way he was treated by his relatives. I'd also heard rumours of his struggle against Voldemort, but James and I never expected to be pulled into it.

In our seventh year, he didn't come back to school, and James and I followed his progress through Potterwatch. For some reason, we expected the final showdown to be somewhere significant like Stonehenge or even Godric's Hollow. We never thought it would be at Hogwarts. We never thought so many lives would be lost.

We were two of the many students who chose to stay and defend Hogwarts and Harry Potter. I can still remember the last thing James said to me just before the battle started. He'd grinned in his usual carefree manner and said, "Let's see who can take down more Death Eater scumbags."

"You're on." I told him. He hugged me briefly and we were off, fighting back-to-back, laughing as our spells hit the black-clad filth.

A spell hit me and I fell, gasping for breath like a fish out of water. James stopped fighting to help me, and as he bent over me and lifted the spell, a woman loomed behind him. She was tall, with heavy-lidded eyes and a manic gleam in them, and I recognized her from the Daily Prophet. Bellatrix Lestrange.

James whirled to face her, and she simply laughed. "Now, why do you look familiar?" She pretended to look thoughtful, as I struggled to my feet. "Ah yes! McKinnon, isn't it? I remember your parents. Put up quite a fight. I wonder if their son will do the same?"

Before James could complete his spell, hers hit him. I will never forget the look on his face, as he lay spread-eagled on the floor, the eyes that were once sparkling and full of life now glassy and unseeing.

I am vaguely aware of activity around me, but all I can hear is the pounding in my ears, and my own sobs, as I grasp him by the shoulders and shake him. He is already so cold…

All around me, people are mourning their loved ones. I see Professor Lupin lying nearby, dead. He will undoubtedly have a hero's funeral, as will any dead Weasleys or Aurors. But no-one will care about James. After all, he was an orphan. He wasn't close to Harry Potter. He wasn't rich or high-profile. I was all he had, and vice-versa. I can barely imagine a world without him around, and I find myself wishing that Bellatrix Lestrange had killed me too.

James McKinnon was kind, smart, loyal, and the best friend one could ever ask for. He never let anything get him down. He looks so calm and peaceful in death, yet he was always laughing in life. He deserves a grand funeral. After all, he lost his life for stopping to help me.

The world hasn't stopped spinning because he died. But it should have.

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