Oblivianatos
*
By Locked Heart Ami
For.
*
He Who Must Not Be Named attacked at midnight and he's still here as tendrils of dawn creep out of the sun and begin to light up scenes of mass destruction and murder. I hardly even recognize Hogwarts anymore, it's twisted, like if you pull the wrong thread on Ginny's cat's cradle string. I know he's still here, because his Death Eaters are still flying about like so many wasps, stinging any poor soul they catch. I don't, however, know how many survivors there are. Maybe half of us are still alive. Maybe a quarter. Maybe, out of seven-hundred-odd students at Hogwarts Academy, I'm the only one left standing. I wish to God that I knew, but I don't. I was running with Lavender Brown, from Ron's year, for a while- then she darted around a corner without checking first. I heard a laugh, a shriek, a whispered "crucio", screams- and I turned and threw myself in the opposite direction like a frightened deer. I didn't even try to save her. I couldn't have. Where the hell is Dumbledore, I wonder, Where is he now that his students REALLY need him, and where's boy wonder Potter, and why aren't they saving us... I stop running and glance around, hands on my knees for support. Not much farther to the Gryffindor Common Room, by the looks of things. Dennis and Colin Creevey lie bloody near my feet. Colin still has his camera. I continue on my way, over their broken bodies. The Death Eaters could have been more humane. Even a forbidden spell would have been better than this. I suppose I really should go search for Ron or Ginny or Harry- Ron and Ginny are younger than me and should have longer to live- and if Harry Potter dies than everything is over. But I'm not going to look for them. I'm not some kind of hero. I've got to go find my brother, my best friend. Dear God, let George be all right. They say twins think the same way. If that's the case, as I hope it is, then George is probably looking for me. I've searched all over the castle- as best I could, as I couldn't let the Death Eaters see me- and I'm only slightly wounded (I think) heading for the Gryffindor Common Room. Please, God, let him be doing the same. Please. I mount the stairs to the common room, two, three at a time, rip aside the mangled, tattered Fat Lady. Then I am face to face with my own brother. George isn't dead, but I breath in slowly, sickened- I'm not sure what will save him at this point. Red hair fades into real crimson blood streaking his face, his eyes are half-closed and glazed and bright like those of a trapped animal. He's holding the rim of the picture hole you climb through- holding it desperately, as though he would fall otherwise. "Oh, bloody hell," I choke, as he moves his lips to speak and doesn't find the strength. George is going to die, I think, and reach out to him. He raises his hand as well and our fingertips touch. A chill like an icy shower snakes down my back. George's hand is like cold glass. And what happens next happens very quickly. Suddenly George falls backwards- I can't tell what happened, so I scrabble desperately into the common room. He must have collapsed- but why isn't there anyone in here- And as my anguished gaze darts over the room, I see Draco Malfoy. There is a noise of breaking china as I stare. I think I must be hallucinating. Malfoy raises a hand to me in mocking salute. Then he aims his wand. "Avada kedavra." Oh, I realize as the green light tendrils shoot from his wand and embrace me with cold sweet death and I fall backwards into blood and broken glass from something I know Malfoy dropped, Oh, I see, I think as I die. It was a mirror.
He Who Must Not Be Named attacked at midnight and he's still here as tendrils of dawn creep out of the sun and begin to light up scenes of mass destruction and murder. I hardly even recognize Hogwarts anymore, it's twisted, like if you pull the wrong thread on Ginny's cat's cradle string. I know he's still here, because his Death Eaters are still flying about like so many wasps, stinging any poor soul they catch. I don't, however, know how many survivors there are. Maybe half of us are still alive. Maybe a quarter. Maybe, out of seven-hundred-odd students at Hogwarts Academy, I'm the only one left standing. I wish to God that I knew, but I don't. I was running with Lavender Brown, from Ron's year, for a while- then she darted around a corner without checking first. I heard a laugh, a shriek, a whispered "crucio", screams- and I turned and threw myself in the opposite direction like a frightened deer. I didn't even try to save her. I couldn't have. Where the hell is Dumbledore, I wonder, Where is he now that his students REALLY need him, and where's boy wonder Potter, and why aren't they saving us... I stop running and glance around, hands on my knees for support. Not much farther to the Gryffindor Common Room, by the looks of things. Dennis and Colin Creevey lie bloody near my feet. Colin still has his camera. I continue on my way, over their broken bodies. The Death Eaters could have been more humane. Even a forbidden spell would have been better than this. I suppose I really should go search for Ron or Ginny or Harry- Ron and Ginny are younger than me and should have longer to live- and if Harry Potter dies than everything is over. But I'm not going to look for them. I'm not some kind of hero. I've got to go find my brother, my best friend. Dear God, let George be all right. They say twins think the same way. If that's the case, as I hope it is, then George is probably looking for me. I've searched all over the castle- as best I could, as I couldn't let the Death Eaters see me- and I'm only slightly wounded (I think) heading for the Gryffindor Common Room. Please, God, let him be doing the same. Please. I mount the stairs to the common room, two, three at a time, rip aside the mangled, tattered Fat Lady. Then I am face to face with my own brother. George isn't dead, but I breath in slowly, sickened- I'm not sure what will save him at this point. Red hair fades into real crimson blood streaking his face, his eyes are half-closed and glazed and bright like those of a trapped animal. He's holding the rim of the picture hole you climb through- holding it desperately, as though he would fall otherwise. "Oh, bloody hell," I choke, as he moves his lips to speak and doesn't find the strength. George is going to die, I think, and reach out to him. He raises his hand as well and our fingertips touch. A chill like an icy shower snakes down my back. George's hand is like cold glass. And what happens next happens very quickly. Suddenly George falls backwards- I can't tell what happened, so I scrabble desperately into the common room. He must have collapsed- but why isn't there anyone in here- And as my anguished gaze darts over the room, I see Draco Malfoy. There is a noise of breaking china as I stare. I think I must be hallucinating. Malfoy raises a hand to me in mocking salute. Then he aims his wand. "Avada kedavra." Oh, I realize as the green light tendrils shoot from his wand and embrace me with cold sweet death and I fall backwards into blood and broken glass from something I know Malfoy dropped, Oh, I see, I think as I die. It was a mirror.