Black and White
Red – Lily Potter
She always hated the way James runs his hands through his hair – as if it needs to be messed up any further. It's a stupid, irritating habit and one that she picks up almost as soon as she starts dating him.
She's twenty-one now, locked in her son's bedroom with only a feeble barricade between her and Voldemort. Carefully she puts Harry down in his crib and reaches for her wand. It's not there. Of course it's not; it's in her bedroom, on the dressing table, where she left it only a few hours ago. Automatically her hand goes to her head, tugging a hand through tangles of red waves. It's so reassuringly James, comforting, normal. Then it hits her, immeasurably worse than any curse, James is dead. James is never going to hug her, kiss her, and gives her that funny little smile of his ever again. Never going to hi-five Sirius or pull another prank. Never going to play with Harry, doge curses or tease Hestia. She slips her hand through her hair again and again until thin strands of red come away in her hands. She has to do it now, because James never will again.
Orange – Dorcas Meadows
She lies on her back, blood leaking from a cut just above her left eye. She's smiling, though she knows they'll never find her in time. She doesn't care anymore. Why would she, she's all alone. Painfully alone.
Sunset was their time of day. Her and Caradoc's. The time when, if they weren't working or on guard duty, they would sit on the back porch of their house and watch the sky fade into a dazzling array of pink, yellow and orange. She's on the back porch now - at sunset, only Caradoc isn't with her. She's on her own and she's scared. Scared that she's dying, scared that she's going to go without saying goodbye.
Yellow - Hestia Jones
They were two people, two stubborn idiots who couldn't see what was right in front of them until they lost it. Together they became something more, the flash of yellow sunlight in another wise dull landscape.
Hestia Jones dies on the marble staircase (the scene of so many late night rendezvous, Lily and James' first kiss and the place she met him whilst, waiting nervously to be sorted). Her eyes fill with colours, long forgotten memories. Dancing with Sirius Black under the stars and finally right before the end, right before she dies, those three words, eight letters that neither of them ever had the courage to say.
Green – Edgar Bones
Is it worth dying for? This war, is it worth his death? How about the deaths of his friends? His Family? His kids? His wife? He isn't quite sure, he doesn't know what he would choose if they asked him, gave him the choice – keep fighting or watch them all die. Thing is they never ask him. And he still has to watch them all die. Watch his best friend cry over the bodies of his wife, sons and grandkids. Watch his children tortured, his youngest - only nine year old, screaming in pain before the Deatheaters finally killed her.
Still though he doesn't regret. Doesn't regret getting involved, putting everybody at risk, doesn't regret putting his faith in Albus, because he knows that one day it will all be over (one way or another) and then maybe, maybe it will have been worth it
Blue – Marlene McKinnon
Marlene dies looking into the eyes of the wrong Prewett brother. Gideon's fantastic – they've been friends (best friends) forever. Trouble is he's just not Fabian. It's a shame that she's one of the few people who can tell them apart because she would have liked to have died looking into Fay's eyes. Like he always said she would.
Of course in those dreams she were always old and grey. Personally though she always thought it would be better to burn bright and short, not wait until she could barely move, seized up with arthritis and all the other complaints that seem to bother both muggles and wizards alike.
She smiles for the last time, taking her final few breaths as she looks up, her brown eyes meeting Gideon's blue, trusting him to pass on her message, "tell him…" she manages, "tell him I love him." And then she's gone.
Indigo – Alastor (Mad-Eye) Moody
Constant Vigilance. He should have paid heed to his own warning and now he's got to live with the consequences which, most likely will be his own death.
One hundred feet in the air and still falling through the dark Indigo sky – regret. Regret that he couldn't have saved them all. His family, wife, two sons, three grandkids, regret that he didn't do more.
Fifty feet and hid mind turns to Edgar, the best friend he ever had, the one who predicted the war before the rest of them had even heard of Voldemort, "We're heading for a huge collision Alastor, make no mistake about it."
Five feet and he thinks of Hope. Then nothing at all.
Violet – Sirius Black
The first thing he does when he breaks out of Azkaban is visit the graves. Godric's Hollow, two in the morning, he comes as himself because who else could he be when coming here. Here is the only place he's ever had a home, a proper family – he's not going to do it the injustice of turning up in disguise.
He lays violets on the grave full of wilting lilies because unlike all the pilgrims and tourists to whom the small village is nothing but an attraction on the long road around wizarding Britain, he knows that Lily hated lilies. He feels a tear course down his cheek as twelve years of grief come crashing down around him. He wipes it away angrily, Blacks don't cry. Not ever. Not even when their best friends are dead.
This is an entry for the 1st round of the Fanfictions Next Top Writer competition on HPFC. i had to write about the Order of the Phoenix and my prompt 'Heading for a huge collison'