He was dead. And her? She was just rain. From the highest of the skies, she came crashing down to land in a million tiny drops, her grief dying with her.
Why was she still alive? She couldn't see the reason, there wasn't any? Everything seemed like a joke the gods had played and now all hope was lost.
The Boy-Who-Lived had long gone in a flash of green light and momentous, heartless laughter. There was victory, yes, but the victory had gone evil, and it strangled everyone by their throats.
Choking, gasping. There was no more air to breathe.
In the end, they were left for dead. The rain could never stop and she was just falling.
finition.
A drabble while I try to find my muse. I do not own Harry Potter.