PhoenixCharm1302 how would you like me to write your death... what circumstances?
FlightSky1513 MY DEATH MUST BE 1) Heroic [or due to heroism - for example I could be assassinated for saving someone] 2) tragic [people must mourn my death, even if it's at a later point in time, as if a truth were revealed] 3) purposeful [I go willingly into death, not dragged into it]
FlightSky1513 twists can happen, such as me being shot by the police, etc.
FlightSky1513 you may base the character upon me as you wish
PhoenixCharm1302 is it ok if it's magic?
FlightSky1513 yup
PhoenixCharm1302 like... a HP fan fic and I post it on ?
FlightSky1513 sure lol
FlightSky1513 Final battle moment? or more of a tangent?
PhoenixCharm1302 maybe... I have to think...
FlightSky1513 lots of places I can die in HP ^_^ before final battle too and even after
FlightSky1513 okay, and since it's magical, it doesn't have to be my death, but just a tragic fate, such as having my memory erased or something
PhoenixCharm1302 do you have a favorite character?
FlightSky1513 hmm, I'd rather not be inserted into a group like the trio
FlightSky1513 I'm a Hufflepuff so Hufflepuff house please ^_^ and since not many Hufflepuffs are known, you can make up friends and characters as you wish.
PhoenixCharm1302 ok
FlightSky1513 interhouse relations also okay, I'd just assume my closest friends would be those in my house just because classes and such together
PhoenixCharm1302 I am also going to include this section of conversation into the posting of the fic.
Disclamer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the events that you may recognise
May 9th, 1998
Dear diary,
Today (or tonight) is the seventh time I've woken up in the middle of the night (00:07), so, that's basically every night. It has been a week since the end of the wizard war at Hogwarts. A week since Voldy's down fall. Seven days of nightmare and nearly identical journal entries. So here I am again, telling the same story for the seventh time. I guess I am hoping this helps me get over the horrific events of the last year. Let's get this over and done with, shall we? I'll start the way I have each time previously.
Tonight I got woken up by a nightmare. I guess you could call it that but in reality it is a memory. First I will give you some background.
I met him in our fourth year. The year we had the horrible 'lady-in-pink' Professor Umbridge for our DADA teacher. We had joined the group 'Dumbledore's army' after Harry Potter set it up. I was fed up with learning theory as I am a more practical girl. Anyway, we were partnered up, Robin and I. we had never talked before; we were in different houses and I, being the unsociable witch I was, did not try to make friends outside of Gryffindor. Robin, I very quickly learned, was a Hufflepuff, one of the loyal. Robin was kind, brave, funny, and maybe a bit insane. We worked together well. After working together in DA, we started hanging out more and soon became the best of friends. I remember those times fondly, they were the best because after that year, life started going downhill, picking up speed at an abnormal rate.
At the beginning of fifth year we were told that Voldy was alive after being told the entire last year that harry was lying. By the end of our fifth year there were numerous attacks on students, a Death eater invasion, and the death of our beloved headmaster; Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.
That summer was the worst. Robin and I kept in touch by owl and hung out a few times, but only a few, like we did the previous year but this time it was different. The wizarding government was going crazy. Mom and Dad were worried and therefore so was I and I confided this all to Robin. By the time that we had to go for our sixth year, everything was turned upside down; the ministry was putting out wanted posters for Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, not in a good way either. It was understandable when they didn't show up for their seventh year. There was also that nonsense about how muggle borns had stolen their magic from real wizards, I mean. How stupid can you get? How could an eleven year old steal magic from a fully qualified witch or wizard and without any magic in the first place?!
For a long story short my sixth year, at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry, was hell. How I survived is a mystery. Each DA (Dark arts, the former defence class) was practicing curses; I refused and got detention every day. At least I was not alone; Robin joined me each day for our appointment for torture done by the 'death duo Carrow'. We might have died had it not been for Neville Longbottom; he created a safe place for those who refused the new lessons. And the worst was yet to come.
At the near end of the year a war took place; Hogwarts against Voldy's army, needless to say the toll was high. Robin and I had managed to avoid the worst of the fates by the time there was a lull in the fight. The time when yours truly, you=know-who himself requested Harry Potter to be handed over. Robin and I, we were shaken up pretty bad and managed to gain a collection of cuts and bruises. We were among those that were the least injured; already many had died on both sides, including the beloved jokester Fred Weasley. Though I still morn his passing, this is not about him.
By the deadline, everyone's nerves were shot. Then came the announcement. The call that turned our blood to ice in our veins; Harry Potter was dead, the boy-who-lived had died. Robin and I were among those who crowded outside to witness Hagrid carry lour leader's body back from the forest. Imagine all our surprise when Harry got back on his feet. All the renewed hope cursing through us. Robin and I fought with replenished strength. Unfortunately, despite all our best efforts, just when we thought we could win, the unthinkable happened. Unthinkable to me at least.
It took place right before Harry finally defeated Voldy. Robin and I were fighting in the stairwell by Gryffindor tower. I had just knocked out two death eaters and was near to finishing off the third. Robin was doing the same. We were back to back outside the portrait hole to the Gryffindoreian dorm when a stray spell hit Robin. I had not seen it coming, he did. Our Death eater opponents were finished. Robin turned around, saw the spell, pushed me out of the way and took it himself. His life was gone instantly. No pain, just surprize. A stray killing curse. After all we had been through, the absence of seconds cost me my best friend, in the worst way. Then Voldy fell. It didn't matter to me anymore; all I could think about was how far we had come, how close we were to surviving this mess. All gone in a matter of seconds.
I can't help thinking; Robin would not have been disappointed with his choice. He was always talking about how he hoped that his death would be worthwhile, and I wonder, was I worth it. I also think why did the hat place him in Hufflepuff and not Gryffindor. He had all that bravery and courage, was it that his fierce loyalty was more prominent. All I can say is I am grateful to him. I still wish it were me though, but am I so cruel as to wish my fate upon him? I failed to mention where I ended up in the aftermath. I am currently residing in the psychiatric ward in St, Mongo's Hospital. How could I wish him here? That is too cruel.
I guess now I must be thinking what he would. He would be disappointed with me and think his efforts a waste if I stay here. He died to give me a future. If it was I who died, Robin would not be stuck here living in the past. He would let go, but never forget. That is what I must do now. I must make sure he did not die in vain. Writing this all out helps. It is disappointing it took a week of sleepless nights to bring the point across. Seven must be the most magical and lucky number out there then.
Enough of my rambling. Though I must let go of the past, I won't ever forget, and will forge on in memory of Robin.
This is I, signing off and out of crazed mind.
Alice Night
Tomorrow is a new day.