DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.
Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?
Numbly, I walked through the ruins of the Potter house. There... By the stairs. There was a crumpled heap... Wet, dark hair was plastered to the person's face... Glasses skittered a few few away from his body.
Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?
I was rooted to the spot. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, I couldn't feel. Why didn't he move? Sometimes, in books, I read about people wishing that their loved one would just get up and smile and say they're alright... I didn't feel that. The million dollar question still hung heavily in my mind.
I was so afraid to find the answer.
Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?
I wanted this moment to last forever, although it was surely the worst moment of my life. Not knowing... But I didn't want to know. Nothing was set in stone... If... if he was dead, then my whole life would change. For the worst.
Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?
"Please, James." I whispered, and took a step towards him. I fell flat on my face because I hadn't registered the movement... You used to laugh at me when I did that. Why don't you laugh?
Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?
I don't care if he's dead or not... I wanted to cry. Seeing him like this... slumped over, his jaw dropped in what seemed to be shocked, his eyebrows still unrelaxed from when he... fell.
Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?
I scrambled to my feet, and couldn't move again. "James." I whispered brokenly, tears streaming down my face.
Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?
Over the years, I would have rather read a book than try to make him proud... Be that sister he could have been proud of. But I had failed him. I'd fought him every step of the way. Had I told him I loved him last time I saw him? Why hadn't I been his friend while we attended Hogwarts? All the books in the world, I would have given for you.
Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?
I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to his crumpled body, and reached for his arm as I had done so many times before. His arm didn't hold the warmth I longed for... He was ice cold.
Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?
Cold... That was what I felt. Pouring, icy ran splattered me. What had happened to the roof? What had happened here?
Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?
I felt for a pulse. I had to know... I had to know if he was dead.
Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead? Is he dead?
...No pulse.
Next thing I knew, the most horrible sound I have ever heard sounded. It was the most hideous, broken wail coming from a young woman. It held pain and loss. It wasn't pretty, nor was it dramatic. It was pure heartbreak.
It was coming from me.
James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead. James is dead.