Written for The Treasure Hunt: Write about the Harry Potter death that hit you the hardest.
Warning for character death and explicit language.
If you're reading How To Get By When We're All Telling Lies: SPOILER ALERT!
The Girl He Left Behind
Harry screamed out in heart wrenching agony and tried to run to him. I froze. The fight was still going on, but it was a blur to me. I was vaguely aware of my wand as it dropped from my fingers. My lungs could hardly draw breath, let alone scream like they wanted to. Remus was dragging Harry away, and I watched them, like it was happening to someone else, somewhere else. Remus' eyes caught mine and there was an urgency in them that I didn't understand. In that moment, I understood nothing but the finality of death.
Sirius. My Sirius. Every moment we had ever shared and every moment that we never got to share swan behind my eyes, fighting for my attention. I couldn't even cry.
I remembered how it had been, back when things were good. I was the fuck-up as a teenager. I drank too much, smoked too much, fucked too much. I was the cherry bomb, ticking away, waiting to explode. He'd been my only constant then. At sixteen, it had seemed like a throwaway comment when I'd told them all I would die first. They laughed, because death still seemed like forever away. But it was true. I was supposed to have died. That was my place. Now I stood, nearly the last one left with the shattered remains of friendship and love as my companions.
The names ran through my mind like a prayer. Mary McDonald. Marlene McKinnon. James Potter. Lily Potter. Sirius Black. Sirius Black. I fell to my knees, and the world slipped away as I squeezed my eyes shut and began to cry.