A/N: She will not fall. She is bulletproof. She is titanium. Set in the Battle of Hogwarts.
Submission for:
War of Angels Competition: Round 2 Sudden Death - Titanium by Sia - Word count: 500 - Setting: The Battle of Hogwarts
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Blood rushed through her ears, almost as fast as the spells whizzing past her as she danced between the lights. They had been practicing this for this moment, spent months running drills after hours in the Room of Requirement before that Umbridge woman stopped them. Even when she had been on the run, she had gone through all the spells in her mind, silently performing them in the dead of night. However, that was all child's play compared to this. This was the real thing and her performance tonight would mean the difference between life and death.
There were others around her, all engaged in their own battles. A few were lucky, having the advantage of speed and youth over their slower and aged opponents. More were unlucky, calling out in vain for help only to be cut down while distracted. Her heart ached for those she could have helped, but there was nothing to be done now. She was locked in her own battle.
They were three across from her, dark figures who hid in the shadows and haunted people's living nightmares. They brought death and destruction wherever they went, feasting on the despair and anguish as their opponents fell at their mercies in cold blood. But she would not be one of them, not now and not ever.
They continued their dance, her movements a lot more graceful than theirs as they moved around the destroyed Great Hall, her feet blindly stepping over fallen debris. Though she was outnumbered, she held her own, keeping them on their toes as she fought back. They could not break her down. She would not let them win.
She released spell after spell, letting go of her morality for just a moment as she spoke some of the more lethal ones she knew. They were not taking mercy on her, as shown by the tell-tale sickly green flash which nearly grazed her arm. Why should she?
One shadow let out a cry, his long-robed hands clutching at his throat as her slashing curse created a wide red gash. His companions continued their assault without a second glance, unconcerned about his well-being as another took his place. They are all nameless dark figures and easily replaced, all closing in on her.
She ducked behind a fallen statue, its edges charred and cracked from the onslaught of magic from all sides. She heard them shouting, slurs and insults over the din as they approached with wands outstretched. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, threatening to explode as she put a hand to quiet it. She must calm down. She must stay focused.
All her life, the dark figures had told her she wasn't good enough, her blood impure and she was lucky to even be alive. They spoke big, loud enough to ensure their voices were heard across the room, but she would let their words bounce off her back every time. She didn't need them to tell her she was inadequate. She knew she was far from, and worth more than they ever were.
That thought to prove them wrong hardened her resolve. With a long deep breath, she jumped from behind the statue, ready again to combat these shadows. She was unafraid of their curses. She believed in her own abilities. She was great. She was bulletproof. She was titanium.