She stood there, watching him as he fell to the ground. The world seemed to stop around her, her mind slowing down, her heartbeat almost non-existent. Her scream froze in her dry throat, too parched to let out the sound of her soul shattering around her. Shattering into a million pieces as a hole swallowed her up. This was not how it was supposed to turn out. This was not what she had imagined when he had walked into the Order of the Phoenix, ready to atone for his past sins. This was not how she imagined her life to be when he came to her, stroking her hair and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. The good guys were supposed to win, right? The good guys were supposed to live their lives out in happiness, for they had survived and conquered more evil than others would ever see.
She remembered how she had first truly met him; how he had stood in blank horror as his son fell to the ground, killed by the hands of his own family. Blond hair tainted with red, the thick fluid spilling out under his black robes and pooling on the ground where he lay. And the man could do nothing but stand there as he watched his son being murdered. He could do nothing to save his son's life and she could see this helplessness slowly kill the man in front of her. She sat there, watching him as his face turned into a mask, his sadness hidden behind a façade of ice. His eyes met hers briefly before he turned away with a swish of his robe.
He walked away from the room, away from what had just occurred. He promised himself that he would never be that helpless again. He had lost his son to death and lost his wife to greed. He would not lose anything else because of the Dark Lord, and in truth, he couldn't, since the Dark Lord had already taken everything of importance to him.
It had been in the dead of night that he came to her, breaking her out of the prison and leading her away from the place where she had been tortured. Holding her weakened body, he walked into the Order of the Phoenix headquarters, his face showing nothing. And so he had brought her back to her home, back to her best friends, back to life. And in turn, she had given him reason to live.
When she had found her parent's bodies, crudely slashed, blood splattered around the walls of her childhood house, she had almost gone with them. She tried to go where they had gone, tried to put her soul to rest. But he would not allow it. It was he who came to her, saving her from herself. She remembered how they had cried together, two lost souls struggling in a world that had taken most of their reasons to live. How he had taken her in his arms, crushing her so that she felt she needed to breathe again. She remembered how he had saved her, helped her live.
It had started out small; brushing over his hand while reaching for a piece of bread, sitting next to each other on the couch while reading a book. But oh how it had grown. They became each other's salvation, always with the other, using each other for strength. Their friendship became more as they slowly started to become utterly dependent on the other. She soon moved into his room and he would comfort her when she woke up screaming from nightmares. And she would be there for him when he wanted to give up. It had been because of each other, because of their need that they survived.
But that was all gone now. He had promised her forever. He had given her hope when she should have had none. Death had brought them together, and now it had cruelly separated them. She looked upon the battlefield, truly seeing his still, dead body; she knew she had been played a trick on. What malicious world was this where she lost her only hope? How could this have happened? It must be a trick. But she knew it wasn't, no matter how much she wanted it to just go away. His eyes staring up at the sky, she kneeled down next to him, whispering her love for him in his ear.
She knew what she must do. Her determination took hold of her and she started firing curses at every Death Eater she saw. "Avada Kedavra!" Her yelling could be heard across the battleground as she pushed on with a force she never knew she had. Bodies fell around her as she worked her way across the field. Her power was beautiful, beautiful and dark, a reminder of what the world had made her. She was not the frightened little girl she had been not so long ago. This world had made her something more, something harder. It had made her more delicate, yet infinitely harder to break. Her opponents were not ready for her fury and many fell before they could even utter a single curse.
It was soon done. The Light had won the war, and Voldemort was no more. She collapsed to the ground next to Harry, the Dark Lord's dead body giving her more joy than she should have derived from the sight. But it had been him who had killed her loved one. It had been him that caused her so much pain, and it had been him who had ripped her slowly repairing heart out and thrown it on the ground. Harry put his arm around her, but she could not be consoled. "I have to go Harry. I must finish something before we celebrate." Her wispy voice shocked him, and he let her go, watching her walk over to a blond haired body. The blond man was on the ground, growing cold in death. And she stood above him, growing cold in life. Kissing his lips, she whispered, "I will follow you. You made me a promise and if you can't keep it, I sure as hell will." Her bushy hair spread around them as she lay on top of his long blond hair.
By the time Harry saw her, it was too late. She had said the curse, a green light forming around her and throwing her body to the ground, lifeless.
He buried them next to each other. Life had parted the two lovers but he made sure death would not. Their funeral was a small one, with only the closest friends in attendance. Harry stood back, waiting for everyone to leave before going up to the grave. "I miss you," he simply said, the emotions overwhelming him. He walked away, leaving them in peace.
Reviews are highly appreciated. Any input is wonderful :)
