Chapter One - The Boy Who didn't Live
The rain was falling heavy, and the atmosphere was tense. Thick darkness was engulfing the vast forest.
"Lumos," whispered Harry, lighting the tip of his wand confidently. Ron trailed behind him, followed by a flustered Hermione.
"Harry, are you sure about this?" she questioned nervously. "I mean, something might happen-"
"Trying to scare us into heading back, 'Mione?" Ron hissed. "It's not like this is a prank... Sirius needs us!"
Harry, however, despite his confident tone, was worried. He stopped abruptly on a twig, snapping it loudly. Ron jumped. "Hermione," Harry inquired, "why're you so nervous?"
"Don't you think it's a bit odd that he asked us to meet him on the outskirts of Hogsmeade? Rather than in the old cave, or in the Dark Forest, even?"
"No," Ron snorted loudly, rolling his eyes. Due to the lack of light, Hermione didn't notice. "Come *on* Harry, let's get going."
Harry, suddenly torn between Ron and Hermione, blinked rapidly. What is someone really was pulling his leg?
"Right," he turned on his heel, following Ron and shrugging off all doubt. Hermione reluctantly followed as well.
The group approached the edge of Hogsmeade at a fast pace. The air seemed to be thinning, because Harry was having a harder time breathing. Ron kept pushing him, however.
"Let's *go*!" he whined, stretching out the second word enthusiastically. Hermione scoffed in silent disapproval.
Harry stopped slowly, spinning and glancing around. "Snuffles?" he called out, holding his lighted wand about his head. From behind, the trio heard a rustling of leaves; a large, black dog emerged at a trot. In reflex, Harry jerked himself around and pointed his wand directly at it. A relieved sigh escaped his throat. "Oh, Snuffles..." Harry laughed, lowering his wand. The dog, however, didn't cease to run. Ron and Hermione, who had been standing on either side of him, dodged quickly away and out of reach. Harry froze, a dumbfounded expression screwed onto his face as the dog tackled him to the ground forcefully.
"Harry!" the other two cried, Ron jumping up in vain attempt to tear the dog from Harry. The mutt snapped at Ron's wrist, causing him to recoil his hand.
"Mother fucking..." Ron cussed under his breath, slipping his wand out from underneath his cloak. With his unharmed hand, he aimed the tip directly at the spine of the black dog.
"Ron! Don't do it!" Hermione shrieked, in a shrilly voice.
"Avada Kedavra!" Ron had obviously ignored Hermione, because a green, blinding light shot out from the tip of Ron's wand. The pressure caused Ron to lose his balance, staggering backwards and falling flat on his ass. Hermione, still positioned on the ground, lifted her arm to shield her eyes.
The light dimmed out, and Hermione lowered her arm. Her gaze fell upon the limp body of the black dog and a respirated grunt emerged from her throat. "Argh... I told you two!" she snapped, particularly at Ron. She stood, stoming over to him. "You almost got Harry killed!"
Ron didn't seem to be listening, however. His eyes were wide, focusing on something else. Hermione continued to scold him, approaching closer. "Honestly, when will you two learn that my instincts are always on the right tr-" She stopped, as Ron lowered his head into his hands. Hermione knelt down, suddenly feeling guilty. "Come now, Ron. I didn't mean it..." His shoulders shook, and a small whimper came from beneath his hands. "I'm sor-"
"It's not that!" Ron cried, in a slight moan.
"Then what is it?"
Without saying a word, Ron crawled over to Harry's wand, which had been tossed aside during the commotion. The tip had stayed lit. Ron raised it, to strech the concentration of light.
Hermione gasped out of shock, scrambling to stand. Ron hadn't been crying because of what Hermione had said to him; he was crying because of what he'd done to Harry.
The seventh year Gryffindor was sprawled out on the dewy, midnight grass, eyes shut slightly under round glasses and frame. His head had fallen to the right, his chin leaning on the appropriate shoulder. Palms were facing downward, pressed lightly against the ground, and his legs seemed to be uncomfortably positioned. Harry's hair was distraught and ruffled; though none of this seemed to bother him, or Hermione for that matter. Harry, along with the rotten black dog, had been hit with the Killing Curse.
Hermione ran at top speed over to him, sliding beside him and ruining her stockings. "Harry!" she cried, shaking her best friend vigerously, as though it would wake him up. She scooped up his body, holding it close to her. She hadn't noticed that Harry's scar had begun to bleed, and didn't care. Harry was gone. 'The Boy Who Lived' was no more.
Ron solomnly, and shakily ventured over, obviously deep in regret. Hermione's tears slid down her reddening cheeks. Her gaze peirced Ron's eyes.
"This is all your fault!" she accused, openly expressing her enmity towards Ron. She took one last look at the love of her life, her boyfriend since the fifth year, kissing him gently on the cheek. "Never," she snarled, looking Ron up and down in pure disgust, "ever speak to me again."
Hermione lifted herself off her knees, laying Harry's body on the ground softly, and ran off towards Hogsmeade. Leaving her ex-best friend, and deceased beaux in the open area.
Beyond, father away and hidden in the trees was the darkest lord of his time. Voldemort stood, observing, and cackling to his snake cruelly. "Well, Nagini, Mr. Weasley certainly accompished my intentions rather well," he snarled, obviously amused. "Without even knowing my intentions!"
Nagini hissed in agreement, and approval, turning into the forest and heading deeper. Her master followed, with a cold, echoing laugh that sent a shiver down the spine of the scared, redheaded murderer.
The rain was falling heavy, and the atmosphere was tense. Thick darkness was engulfing the vast forest.
"Lumos," whispered Harry, lighting the tip of his wand confidently. Ron trailed behind him, followed by a flustered Hermione.
"Harry, are you sure about this?" she questioned nervously. "I mean, something might happen-"
"Trying to scare us into heading back, 'Mione?" Ron hissed. "It's not like this is a prank... Sirius needs us!"
Harry, however, despite his confident tone, was worried. He stopped abruptly on a twig, snapping it loudly. Ron jumped. "Hermione," Harry inquired, "why're you so nervous?"
"Don't you think it's a bit odd that he asked us to meet him on the outskirts of Hogsmeade? Rather than in the old cave, or in the Dark Forest, even?"
"No," Ron snorted loudly, rolling his eyes. Due to the lack of light, Hermione didn't notice. "Come *on* Harry, let's get going."
Harry, suddenly torn between Ron and Hermione, blinked rapidly. What is someone really was pulling his leg?
"Right," he turned on his heel, following Ron and shrugging off all doubt. Hermione reluctantly followed as well.
The group approached the edge of Hogsmeade at a fast pace. The air seemed to be thinning, because Harry was having a harder time breathing. Ron kept pushing him, however.
"Let's *go*!" he whined, stretching out the second word enthusiastically. Hermione scoffed in silent disapproval.
Harry stopped slowly, spinning and glancing around. "Snuffles?" he called out, holding his lighted wand about his head. From behind, the trio heard a rustling of leaves; a large, black dog emerged at a trot. In reflex, Harry jerked himself around and pointed his wand directly at it. A relieved sigh escaped his throat. "Oh, Snuffles..." Harry laughed, lowering his wand. The dog, however, didn't cease to run. Ron and Hermione, who had been standing on either side of him, dodged quickly away and out of reach. Harry froze, a dumbfounded expression screwed onto his face as the dog tackled him to the ground forcefully.
"Harry!" the other two cried, Ron jumping up in vain attempt to tear the dog from Harry. The mutt snapped at Ron's wrist, causing him to recoil his hand.
"Mother fucking..." Ron cussed under his breath, slipping his wand out from underneath his cloak. With his unharmed hand, he aimed the tip directly at the spine of the black dog.
"Ron! Don't do it!" Hermione shrieked, in a shrilly voice.
"Avada Kedavra!" Ron had obviously ignored Hermione, because a green, blinding light shot out from the tip of Ron's wand. The pressure caused Ron to lose his balance, staggering backwards and falling flat on his ass. Hermione, still positioned on the ground, lifted her arm to shield her eyes.
The light dimmed out, and Hermione lowered her arm. Her gaze fell upon the limp body of the black dog and a respirated grunt emerged from her throat. "Argh... I told you two!" she snapped, particularly at Ron. She stood, stoming over to him. "You almost got Harry killed!"
Ron didn't seem to be listening, however. His eyes were wide, focusing on something else. Hermione continued to scold him, approaching closer. "Honestly, when will you two learn that my instincts are always on the right tr-" She stopped, as Ron lowered his head into his hands. Hermione knelt down, suddenly feeling guilty. "Come now, Ron. I didn't mean it..." His shoulders shook, and a small whimper came from beneath his hands. "I'm sor-"
"It's not that!" Ron cried, in a slight moan.
"Then what is it?"
Without saying a word, Ron crawled over to Harry's wand, which had been tossed aside during the commotion. The tip had stayed lit. Ron raised it, to strech the concentration of light.
Hermione gasped out of shock, scrambling to stand. Ron hadn't been crying because of what Hermione had said to him; he was crying because of what he'd done to Harry.
The seventh year Gryffindor was sprawled out on the dewy, midnight grass, eyes shut slightly under round glasses and frame. His head had fallen to the right, his chin leaning on the appropriate shoulder. Palms were facing downward, pressed lightly against the ground, and his legs seemed to be uncomfortably positioned. Harry's hair was distraught and ruffled; though none of this seemed to bother him, or Hermione for that matter. Harry, along with the rotten black dog, had been hit with the Killing Curse.
Hermione ran at top speed over to him, sliding beside him and ruining her stockings. "Harry!" she cried, shaking her best friend vigerously, as though it would wake him up. She scooped up his body, holding it close to her. She hadn't noticed that Harry's scar had begun to bleed, and didn't care. Harry was gone. 'The Boy Who Lived' was no more.
Ron solomnly, and shakily ventured over, obviously deep in regret. Hermione's tears slid down her reddening cheeks. Her gaze peirced Ron's eyes.
"This is all your fault!" she accused, openly expressing her enmity towards Ron. She took one last look at the love of her life, her boyfriend since the fifth year, kissing him gently on the cheek. "Never," she snarled, looking Ron up and down in pure disgust, "ever speak to me again."
Hermione lifted herself off her knees, laying Harry's body on the ground softly, and ran off towards Hogsmeade. Leaving her ex-best friend, and deceased beaux in the open area.
Beyond, father away and hidden in the trees was the darkest lord of his time. Voldemort stood, observing, and cackling to his snake cruelly. "Well, Nagini, Mr. Weasley certainly accompished my intentions rather well," he snarled, obviously amused. "Without even knowing my intentions!"
Nagini hissed in agreement, and approval, turning into the forest and heading deeper. Her master followed, with a cold, echoing laugh that sent a shiver down the spine of the scared, redheaded murderer.