The day was chilly, with a small wind, and the sky was black with thick, gray fog. They stood at the doors of Hogwart's their wands raised at their sides, watching the grounds intently. They could feel it in their bones, the war was coming, and it was coming quickly.
Sirius Black, Marlene McKinnon, Alice and Frank Longbottom, James and Lily Potter, Remus Lupin, Mary McDonald, Emmeline Vance, Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Pomona Sprout, a few other students, and some of the school professors all waited quietly, listening to the gust of winds blow through the castle's main hall. Various people were clutching eachothers hands tightly, praying for the best. Everyone was hoping they would make it out of this fight, dreading the moment they'd face their death. The few married couples were turned towards one another, reassuring eachother they'd make it home alive that night, and everything would be okay. They each shared a simple kiss, encouraging eachother to continue on. They all turned back, looking at the grounds until Dumbledore's voice rose above the gusts of wind.
"They have arrived. Fight valiantly, and do not mourn for those we may lose. For they have not died for an unworthy cause. May you all have the best of luck," his voice was quiet, yet respectful, barely audible over the sound of the oncoming deatheaters.
There were a hundred of them, perhaps more; in far greater numbers than those who hoped to protect the school. They wore long black capes, each hooded, covering their decorated masks, and evil smirks. The Dark Lord, led them from the very front, his pale, icy skin showing brightly in the darkness of the day. He chuckled, white mist showing his breath in the chilly autumn air.
Multiple gasps and grunts of frustration came from the order, realizing some of their close school friends under the black hoods.
Sirius gritted his teeth, noticing his little brother off to the side. Mary Mcdonald simply whimpered, grabbing onto her friend Emmeline's hand, seeing the same boy, remembering all those 'i love you's and their final goodbye. Lily, her hand in James', squeezed his hand tightly, glaring at her old friend who stood across the way from her; Severus Snape. She still had not forgotten what he had done to her in their school years, and she certainly wasn't going to give him and sort of mercy now. A few of the others shifted uncomfortably, noticing some of their old friends and lovers as the first few did. Soon enough, the deatheaters were standing in the courtyard, eyeing each of them carefully. Voldemort bowed mockingly at Dumbledore, showing his yellow teeth, failing at a small smile.
"Albus Dumbledore. My old friend, and my old professor. Are you finally prepared to die?", Voldemort laughed, getting a few chuckles out of the deatheaters while he was at it.
Dumbledore nodded politely, his face expressionless. "Tom", he ignored the second question, gripping his wand a little bit tighter in his hand.
Voldemort scanned the order with his red, snake like eyes, sneering at them. He then laughed again, stopping his eyes at Lily Potter.
"Oh you've got a mudblood here, how admirable. She must be that smart girl that old Severus used to ramble about, no? Red hair, and those lovely green eyes. It's most definitely her, then." He ran his hand along the length of his wand, still watching her.
Lily stood her ground, eyeing Voldemort, feeling James wrap his arm around her waist protectively. She glanced over at Severus, who was staring at her through his greasy, black hair. He looked down when he noticed her watching, and she swore she saw his face go pink. She looked back to Voldemort, who was now looking at James.
"And you must be the fool who married her", his voice was cold now, sending shivers up everyones spine.
Dumbledore stepped forward, putting a hand on Lily's shoulder, watching Voldemort.
"How about we just get this little get together started, Tom, what do you think?", Dumbledore's voice was surprisingly pleasant, going up a little bit at the end, as if even /he/ was scared.
Tom nodded, bowing again. "Your wish, is my command, Professor". He turned to his followers, raising his wand high in the air, shooting out red sparks.
"Let this war, begin!", he shrieked, and all of the hooded cloaks raised their wands, and began firing spells every which way.
The Order followed not so long after them, and they charged at eachother, people falling in all directions, either injured, or dead.
The war had begun, and now it was fates decision who lived, and who would be the one to die.