"After all, to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure."
Albus Dumbledore
"Crucio!"
Waves of pain crashed over my body as screams erupted from my mouth, mixing in with the sounds of the battle that surrounded me. My torturer, Bellatrix Lestrange, offered a maniacal grin in for my agony. Her frizzy hair almost touched my face as she leaned in closer to watch as fear and pain danced across my features.
The battle had begun at dawn as Voldemort's army gathered around the perimeter of the castle grounds.
I lasted a whopping fifteen minutes before accidentally over the charred remains of some poor bloke. I even lost my wand somewhere in his cranial cavity but, considering I was barefoot and still wearing my stylish Batman pyjamas.
The witch found me there and let a cacophony of giggles fall from her lips as she watched me awkwardly scramble through some dead guy's remains. After that, she began with the torture. A sectumsempra here, a couple crucios there, even an occasional healing spell was weaved into her incessant string of spells. She was truly an artist at her craft.
The sun had almost set and yet, no one had come for me. True, I had purposefully kept most at arms length with anyone during my years at Hogwarts, but it was still a bit depressing that not single person, not a classmate, housemate, or even a teacher, came to help me. I couldn't help but wonder what would be said at my funeral. Surely, not a single person but the priest would be there. I was your average student and foot soldier - never bullied nor befriended, not distrusted nor depended upon, neither forgotten nor even noticed to begin with, just always there, like a table or antique lamp.
Why couldn't she just end it already? You'd think Lestrange would get tired of this game. I was just a no-name Hufflepuff, one out of hundreds of students. In a way, it was almost a weird honor that such a powerful Death Eater spent such a long time to kill me rather than just throwing a death curse and walking on by.
Wow, how pitiful am I to need attention from Voldemort's psychotic fangirl in order to boast my ego?
Even through the pain, a lopsided grin forced itself upon my face at the thought. Perhaps thinking that I had finally given up my sanity, Bellatrix raised her wand to point at my face and shrieked the words that hammer the final nail into my coffin.
"Avada kedavra!"
As the last syllable hung in the air, my vision swirled into an emerald green before finally fading into blackness.