Disclaimer: I own not anything of Harry Potter they all belong to J.K. Rowling; the only thing I own is the plot to this story.
Author's Note: This is kind of a far fetched story but I did my best to keep my facts straight and interline it with the original plot.
Warning: This is a story that has a slash paring, if that offends, well you have been warned. More importantly it contains SPOILERS, SO DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED/STARTED DEATHLY HALLOWS. Unless you don't care, then read on.
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Hogwarts had sustained heavy damage form the first wave of attack, Gregory was sure that if the people did not lay their wands down and submit to the Dark Lord that Hogwarts was at risk of being completely leveled. Gregory hurried along ruined corridors, before he could take leave of the school he had to be sure of Vincent Crabbe's death. Great sorrow was being held at bay by dams of hope and determination; Vincent wasn't dead, couldn't be, no one saw him die. Gregory reached the stair case that would have lead him to floor he needed to get too, alas part of the stair case had been blown to rubble.
Standing still on his trembling legs Gregory gaged whether or not he could leap across the gap. He looked down; the fall probably wouldn't kill him, unless he landed on his head, never the less he was likely to break something if he fell. There were ways around the shattered stairs but there was no time, at any moment the battle would resume. Gregory looked behind him where a Death Eater's corpse laid, limbs slightly contorted, having no wand he had to push the grotesquely stiff corpse out of his way. Corpse out of the way he took some steps back, inhaled deep, then sprinted towards the edge running faster then he ever thought he could. Gregory came up to the crumbling edge, mercifully leaping before the floor ran out from beneath his feet.
Gregory felt everything around him slow, like some mysterious person had cast some time altering charm, allowing him to see that he wasn't going to make it all the way. He braced himself as best he could, his middle hit the stairs, he sent arms out desperately searching for something to hold on too. Nothing but the bumps of the stairs themselves, he folded his arms and pressed down to keep from falling, legs dangling comically in the air. Gregory felt himself slipping, but he couldn't fail Vincent, summoning all the strength in his right leg he swung it over the ledge. One leg and most of his other parts securely on the lowest remaining stair, he had no trouble pulling the rest of himself up. Afraid of losing balance Gregory crawled up the rest of the stairs.
On the solid corridor floor he stood, wincing at a newly formed pain in his right leg probably from hyperextending it on the stair case. Ignoring the protests of the leg, Gregory broke into a limping run, walk three times past...room that Vince is in, room that Vince is in, room that Vince is in. The wall in front of which he stopped shifted and began to give way to heavy doors. Starring at the heavy doors the courage that he had mustered up began to drain away, he had to hurry before all the courage disappeared though the sink hole newly forming inside his very being. Hands violently shook as he reached out, paused, and then pushed the doors open.
Gregory blinked several times trying to adjust his eyes to the light before realizing that room was pitch black.
"Vince!" time passed with no answer emerging from the stuffy darkness, Gregory took some steps into the cavernous room which stank of ash and sulfur, and he could see nothing ahead of him. The once vast yet clusterphobic room which held generations of contraband, was trasmutilated into a cavernous, stuffy, dark room.
"Vincent!" Gregory's shouts should have echoed but the ash seemed to devour any returning reverberation. "Come on Vince, answer me!"
Gregory began to run into the suffocating darkness, away from the protection of the distorted rectangle of light that spilled in from the corridor. As heavy footfalls slammed into the stone floor, ash rose into the air.
"Vin-" name lost to the thick ash as it clogged his air passage inducing a coughing fit. Tears began to defensively flow, trying to expel the intruding ash. Promise I'll...find...you, Gregory fell to his knees coughing harder, he could taste blood. He tried to choke out one last, "VINCENT!" but couldn't. On his knees, trying to gain control of his coughing, Gregory began to reach desperately in the dark, certain he would find Vincent's warm hand, waiting to help him up.
Gregory now cried out of pain for his searing eyes but more because of the realization that Vincent had burned alive. He allowed himself to slide the rest of the way onto the ground, letting go into the all consuming hopelessness. His sobbing and wheezing became less and less active, death was close, why?
