A/N: Alright, so this is my first Harry Potter fanfiction.
I usually spend my time writing for The Legend of Zelda.
I'd like to dedicate this to Cassieee.
Please, leave your reviews.
Your constructive criticism or comments make me a better author in turn, so I'd really appreciate it.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters used in this fiction.
Without further ado, I give you...
Her Last Flight.
By AlariaZanshin.
It was caliginous, this stormy night. The wind howled like a wild pack of hungry wolves and the lightning flashed like avada kedavra, thunder crashed every few moments, shaking even the ground beneath. It was as if the echoes of lovers long gone and heroes recently past were all crying together for their losses, and she cried with them. She cried tears of loss, frustration and guilt. Tears for him. Tears for them.
She should have rejoiced in the thought that the dark "Lord" had perished, but like many others, she was in mourning. She had lost one of the only things in her life that still brought her joy during the times that persistently horrified others. Tears flowing freely down her face. The few other remaining witches and wizards at Hogwarts merely watched as she sat, eyes streaming fountains.
They knew there wasn't anything they could do to help, so they vaguely whispered greetings and passed on to go about their business. Everyone left at some stage or another, to be replaced by someone else, to repeat the whispered greetings and dissipate into the night. She didn't want to leave, she was waiting for him.
But she knew that she was waiting in vain. She'd seen the bodies that lay after the final battle and couldn't believe her eyes. He was dead. He was really dead.
The one person to make her smile when she was angry. The only person willing to assist her in the dangerous task of whacking Marcus flint over the head with the beater's bat on the Quidditch pitch. Her first kiss. Her date to the yule ball. Fred Weasley, was dead. His body cold, his face still wearing a ghost of his last smile when they took him away. She remembered all of this, and yet, still she waited.
Waited until realisation struck her.
He was gone, and he wasn't coming back.
Like her parents, who Voldemort had struck down in the final battles. Like Professor Lupin and his wife, Nymphadora tonks. She pitied their son, who would grow up like the famous Harry Potter, never having known who his parent's really were. They were all gone and like Voldemort, they were never coming back.
Their time had passed and they weren't afraid. Death is but the next greatest adventure.
She smiled as she remembered those words quoted from the mouth of the greatest headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen, the only man you-know-who was afraid of. Whispers of the ghosts sounded faintly in the night. Her thoughts returned to the last time she had seen her love, their final meeting.
"Fred! Promise me you'll come back"
She had pleaded desperately with him not to go and used this as a final resort. Her pleading eyes looked up into his sorrowed ones. He knew he wouldn't be coming back. He leaned forward and brushed his lips, petal soft, against her own, moving to hold her in his arms for the last time.
"Angelina, I can't make promises that I don't know if I can keep."
He smiled sadly before continuing, still holding her protectively in his arms.
"Know that I love you, and I will until my last breath leaves my dying body. I will love you from beyond the grave and I will wait for you until somehow we meet again." He kissed her again, softly. He didn't want to let her go, but he did.
He turned towards the battle, their screams echoing audible throughout the corridors. Clashing and screeching at random intervals. He moved towards the disarray, then turned back. He blew her a kiss and continued, he didn't look back.
She still remembered how he looked, she still remembered exactly how he felt, even precisely how he smelt. Not a bad scent at that stage, just his scent.
She could almost hear his laugh drawing her closer and then having the joy it brought be ripped away as she realised that it was only her imagination. She knew he was a hero, she knew he died for a good cause. But she still believed, he shouldn't have died at all.
She still had time, she could go out into the world and find some great guy, get married and have kids. But she could never forget about Fred, never forget how strongly she loved him, how she could never feel that way again.
He was her one. Her only. Her soulmate.
But here she was, missing her other half. She knew what she had to do, she had nothing left.
She stood sluggishly and made her feet and legs take steps, one after the other, leading her to the north tower.
It didn't take long, she wasn't even aware of the time that had passed as she moved, but she had reached the last window of the north tower. She didn't have her broom, she didn't have her love, but either way, she was going to fly.
She took the step up onto the ledge, his smiling face the only thing she saw. His joyous laugh the only thing she could hear. She took the step, her final step. Her final uttered words before she took the plunge.
"I'm coming, my love"
and she did. She unfurled her wings and flew on forever.
R.I.P
Angelina Johnson.
1978-1997
She died for love.