Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
A/N I needed to write something angsty, because of real life troubles and woes. So this erm..I guess One shot came out of it. I'm not in the greatest of moods right now cause of some idiot, so yess'um review.
Some things make you happy, some things make you sad. Some things annoy you, some things you can tolerate. Some things you love more then life, and some things you hate with your life.
You can imagine growing old without a care in the world, and you are not scared of what will happen to you in the near future. What you are afraid of is what will happen without your friends, and that harsh reality is being forced on you today.
With no understanding of when danger is near or not, you are afraid that you will be unable to do many things with them if killed. No one can tell you if you're safe or not anymore.
Safe was not the cupboard under the stairs, safe is not the Gryffindor common room anymore; safe no longer exists. Safe was not your dreams, safe is not in her arms, safe no longer exists at all.
Her arms… why you allow her to hug you right now you don't know why. Her red hair sinks behind her back, as her tears run dry. Crying, crying for her lost brother. You wish you could tell her it is alright, but she lost her brother, your best friend.
Ron, dead because of a curse that he didn't block in time. Hermione? Gone, no one knows where her body lays with the masses of others. Ginny? Barely living, with cuts along her skin and blood seeping out of her skin.
You're scared to leave Ginny alone, although she's far gone and will die of blood loss. It pains you to know you cannot save her, her life fading in your arms. No, this is not safety. How could you have ever thought someone's arms would be safe?
Yet you still remember comforting arms around your body. Maybe this memory is lost among the many others in your mind, you don't know. All you know is what you can feel and remember.
You hear a crunch, maybe someone stepped over the arm of that death eater you had just killed without a second thought? You don't look over your shoulder, not much caring anymore who it is.
"Potter." You hear the word said coolly. 'How can a voice be so devoid of emotion?' You think, not really caring who the voice belongs to.
"What?" You ask, voice hard as you try to keep you voice steady. You throat closes tightly because of the emotion you're holding down, and it hurts to keep the tears at bay, oh does it hurt.
You feel the jab of a wand at the back of your neck; you know it's a death eater now. "Get up." The voice says again, still not showing any emotion. You want to cry but know that now is not the time. You want to scream at whoever it is to show some emotion: anger at the chaos, hate to those who killed anyone he loved, joy at winning against the light, maybe even remorse for those that died.
But as you start to stand up, taking your grip off of Ginny, watching her pleading eyes asking not leave her, and wishing you could say sorry. The wand jabs painfully into your neck. "Move away from her, she's gone anyways."
You feel anger build up in you, but know it's fruitless. The owner of that wand does not care that she is going to die without someone to hold her hand, the owner of that wand does not care about anything, that much you know.
You step over her but trip over her body, hearing her whimper in pain. You cringe at her whimper, wishing nothing more then to relieve her of her pain, but your wand is gone, lost among the many corpses.
"On your feet. You were always a clumsy git." The voice says, and you suddenly recognize the voice. Only one person would find amusement at your misstep. Actually many would, but only one would comment on it and not kick you again.
You don't comment on your discovery of the identity of the wands owner. You just get up again. "Harry don't…" You hear Ginny whisper. You feel a tear slip past your emotion barrier, threatening to break it all and leave you a crying wreck.
"Keep moving Potter, and you might have your life at the end of this day." The voice says, back to its cold apathetic rhythm.
You move away from Ginny slowly, and feel another jab from the piece of wood at the nape of your neck. You start to move faster, hoping you may be able to return to Ginny's grave one day.
If she is given a grave at all.
You finally work up the defiance to ask the burning question running through your mind. "Where am I going?"
You hear a chuckle from the death eater behind you, you wonder if he has a grin on his face at how uncertain you sound, and if you would be allowed to smack it off his damn face without getting killed.
"Somewhere unpleasant I hope." was all the voice said before you heard the word stupefy. Suddenly losing consciousness you have no fear, no hate, no sorrow, no nothing. If you could, you would wish for it to remain that way forever.
You suddenly feel yourself rising out of blackness, opening your eyes to meet a blurry vision. Your glasses are gone and all you can see is blurry shapes mixing in with each other, it's as if you're looking through stained glass.
"Well, morning sunshine." You hear from an unknown voice. You suddenly feel fear because you have no clue why it sounds so... pleasant.
You open your mouth to say something, but all that comes out is 'Urgggh.' It's not even a word, but at this point in time you don't care. All you know is you're not safe, and you're in danger.
"No, don't try to talk. He brought you in looking pretty battered; still have to wait for that broken arm to heal." The voice says again, and you wonder if you're dreaming some strange dream, because you should not be feeling safe in the enemy's hands.
You start to attempt to move your limbs, but it doesn't work out the way you hoped as you realize you're tied to the bed. You suddenly realize what is wrong with this picture of someone being nice to you.
"They said you might struggle. Don't make me tranquilize you." The voice says, and you suddenly get the impression it was a feminine voice. You instantly stop struggling against whatever holds you down. Right now it's a good thing you're alive, maybe if you pretend to be weak you have a better chance of surviving whatever they have planned.
You want to ask so many questions, but feel that it wouldn't be a good idea, what if they all of a sudden give you their whacked up idea of what a punishment is? You clear your throat, deciding maybe one question couldn't hurt.
"What am I doing here?" You ask, your voice sounding dry and cracked. You close your eyes, feeling tired of looking at the blurs of the world through your bad eyesight.
"Wish I could tell you, but I don't know anything." Is their answer, and you feel discouraged to know that you are stuck here, on a bed without your glasses, and anything could happen to you.
Safety, what you would give to have it back.
Review please if ya read this.