AN: My English teacher made my class listen to this song and I knew that I had to write a fic to go with it. It just matches so well. Warning for character death.
Disclaimer: picks up potion vial and drinks "I am J K Rowling and I own all of the Harry Potter – what do you mean I have whiskers?" feels face "Damn… I must have got hair from one of J K Rowling's cats. Stupid Polyjuice Potion… Don't worry, I'll erase their memories and give them back when I've finished playing with them. I promise." puts on innocent face
I don't own the song either.
There are children standing here,
Arms outstretched into the sky,
Tears drying on their face.
He has been here.
"Run!" Harry yells.
Ron and I follow him, dodging curses the Death Eaters send our way. All around us there are young children dying, crying or standing over dead parents, not understanding why everyone around them is being killed. Not even understanding that in a few moments they will be dead too.
Normally we would all stop and help, but we don't have time, we need to get out of here, and quite frankly, we're all too scared to do anything but run on the adrenalin pumping through our veins.
Brothers lie in shallow graves.
Fathers lost without a trace.
A nation blind to their disgrace,
Since he's been here.
Our lives aren't worth much to us anymore, neither are the lives of other around us who will surely die soon. We have all lost too much, gone through too much. The motionless bodies we hurdle over cause us no grief, for we are beyond that stage. Not even the fact that those bodies are so similar to those of the other Weasley boys who have been recently killed, or that if we looked closer we might find a body to be Mr Weasley could bring fresh tears to my face, or either of the others'. The Weasley's weren't the only family to loose a father. Many wizards who had worked at the ministry had been killed in the major attack three, no, four weeks ago.
'If Fudge were still alive, he would be pretty ashamed by now. If only he had done something sooner.' I thought to myself. Fudge was a blind idiot, but having him as the Minister for Magic was still better than what was happening now. Anything was.
Suddenly I look up and see a jet of bright green light heading strait towards me. I'm frozen, watching it get closer. Just seconds before it hits me I am knocked sideways, out of the path of the spell. Rolling over to face Harry, I wish he hadn't saved me.
And I see no bravery,
No bravery in you eyes anymore.
Only sadness.
Seeing the look of loss in his eyes, I wanted to be dead. In time of trouble, Harry's bright green eyes had always glowed with determination and love, but most of all, bravely. Now they are empty, dull. 'If Harry had lost hope, what did that mean for the rest of us?' I thought in despair.
Houses burnt beyond repair.
The smell of death is in the air.
A woman weeping in despair says,
He has been here.
Ron drags us to our feet and we carry on running. Running through the streets of Hogsmeade we see that the Death Eaters have turned to destroying houses along with the people inside them. I watch as one conjures up a fire along the walls of a house. Another sets fire to the door, uncaring of the woman and her children screaming from the upstairs window, or maybe in spite of them.
The smell of rotting flesh follows us as we continue to run through the streets. The children screams stop, only to be replaced by others. A woman runs our of her house on my right, tearing out in front of Death Eaters, who are carrying raised wands. In her arms she's holding a baby who would never breathe again. It was probably all of the smoke. The woman ran blindly towards another group of Death Eaters. As she fell I realised that it must have been deliberate. She, like everyone around her, knew that she was going to die.
We're all going to die sooner or later. Might as well get it over with and not suffer more than we have to.
Tracer lighting up the sky.
It's another family's turn to die.
A child afraid to even cry out says,
He has been here.
A sudden flash of green light startles us all; before now it hadn't bothered us, as there were curses flying everywhere, many of them bright green. Looking up, I saw the Dark Mark floating in the sky. It illuminated everything with a spooky green glow.
I would have rathered it stay dark. A few weeks ago the sight would have made me weak at the knees and sick to my stomach, but not today, I have seen too much for it to hurt me now. That's beside the fact that I haven't eaten for what two weeks, except for what we have found in abandoned shops that closed months ago. It had all been mouldy, but it was something.
Sometimes I wondered if I ate it just to see if I could kill myself from the bacteria in it. I'm too scared to try any harder.
Ahead of me there are a dozen or so Death Eaters surrounding a young family. While the Death Eaters torture the parents, the oldest child tries to hide the other under some nearby rubble that was most likely their house. He looks only about nine or ten, not even old enough for Hogwarts, yet he understands the need for safety even while his parents are being tortured in front of him. Unfortunately it won't do any good. The Death Eaters have seen the children. They shake as they cling to each other, but do not make a sound. They are past that too, too terrified to even think of screaming. Such innocence completely destroyed, never to exist again. It's such a small event in the rest of the attack, but it represents everything we can't do. We can't save them.
And I see no bravery,
No bravery in you eyes anymore.
Only sadness.
I know how this would have affected Harry before the summer, but now he's beyond caring. I can see that he wants to gibe up. He already has inside. All of us have. To show it by stopping would be admitting defeat, even if it was already shown in his body language. Not to mention his dead looking eyes.
There are children standing here,
Arms outstretched into the sky,
Bur no one asks the question why,
He has been here.
Other children all around us are doing similar things and I realise that the other boy's actions weren't as odd or amazing as I had thought. Actions like those were the consequences of war; some of them anyway, because there are so many other consequences of war. Too many to count all there children forced to grow up so fast reminds me that Harry isn't tho only person with haunted eyes.
I watch children scream and cry as they fall on all sides, yet they all seem to know that it's not going to do them any good. I know they don't understand what this is about, yet they don't ask questions.
I don't know if they are just too scared, if they too have given up hope or if they understand enough to know that they don't want to find out anything else.
Old men kneel and accept their fate.
Wives and daughters cut and raped.
A generation drenched in hate.
Yes, he has been here.
As we near the edge of the town I see a grandfather trip over as a spell hits his walking stick, making it shatter into thousands of tiny shards. His children and grandchildren don't even move to help him as they Death Eaters attack them. I see the Death Eaters put the imperious curse on one girl and she takes off her clothes at their orders. The woman, who must have been her mother, tries to lunge towards the girl, but is stopped by Death Eaters who pin her to the ground and begin to strip off her clothes.
I turn away from what I know is about to happen. I'm not the least bit disgusted about what is happening so near to me. I'm past that stage now. It couldn't get any worse. Not even the knowledge that it could be me, Ginny or any one of my friends that something so horrible was happening to affects me.
I hate this. That's one of the few things I still feel. I hate every thing that has happened because of this war; everything that could have been prevented if I had found a way for Harry to kill Voldemort. It was my job to make a plan, to do the research, and I had failed. I hate myself more than anything.
Most people would think that I would resent the fact that I am the one that does all the hard work, but I don't. It's my job and I like doing it. It gives me a purpose and makes me feel like I could belong in the wizarding world even though I am muggle born.
Suddenly Ron is engulfed by a green light that spells his end. He falls, crashing to the ground, but Harry and I barely turn to look as a Death Eater deliberately walks over the top of him. We don't have time.
And I see no bravery,
No bravery in you eyes anymore.
Only sadness.
Suddenly I see a bright light heading strait as Harry, who is standing beside me. He has stopped completely and time seems to have slowed down as he stands frozen. I see the bright green reflected in his open eyes and know that this time he isn't going to move. I know that I should push him out of the path of the spell like he has done countless times before, for me. No, I don't have the heart. This is the only way to save him. I might not save him from death, but death is better than living in this hell.
I suddenly realise that he is leaving me. I will be all alone now. If I still felt emotion I would be panicking, but I don't.
Just seconds before the spell hits him, his eyes flick over my face. I see something stir in his eyes, but a second later it's gone. And so is he.
During the time the spell had been coming towards Harry, another Death Eater has fired a killing curse. Just like Harry, I stand still and wait. My last thought is 'What sort of Gryffindors are we?'
Bravery is overrated.
AN: It's a little sad isn't it? Let me know what you think!