Red eyes, white skin, serpentine features, hissed words.
"Prepared for death?"
No, never. Heart thumping, breath rattling, eyes flicking, rasped words.
"To the organised mind, death is only the next great adventure."
Fear in those red eyes, success.
"Malfoy, take him away."
Not the older, the younger. Slicked back blonde hair, uncertain grey eyes, shaking slim limbs.
"Come on, Potter."
Cruel voice leading to a cruel fate. Leaden limbs following the soon to be executioner.
"Cat got your tongue?"
Doors open, blue sky, whispy clouds, fresh grass. Deep breath. Smells like freedom, like possibility. Smoke in the distance, burning London.
"You've got nothing to say to me?"
Anger in the voice. No anger in me. Stomach empty, feeling dizzy, blinding light. Birds whistling, trees rustling.
"Say something, damn it! Are you dumb?"
Words fade away to heart pounding. Deep breath. So alive. How did I not notice before?
"Fine then. Die in silence."
Heavy footsteps to the executioner, to the circle of savages waiting for blood. The grass where children once sat, now the place for lifeblood to spill.
"Where has your spirit gone? You wouldn't bloody shut up before, now you're just... nothing. You're useless, Potter!"
Sinister wooden block. Rookwood, ready again – this time not for a hippogriff. Deep breath. Fresh air tainted with dark magic.
Not ready to die. Not yet.
"Kneel."
A command, from two voices; two executioners. One young blonde schoolmate, one old dark haired adversary.
Knees giving way from a strike to the back, choking as neck hits block.
Corner of my eye, a wave from a pale hand. In front of me, people held captive, forced to watch. Two sets of brown eyes under red hair, one pair under frizzy brown fuzz, a werewolf, a tabby cat – held by spells, bound by promises.
Deep breath.
Tears in some, whooping laughter in others. The axe rises.
Deep breath.
"On your count, My Lord."
Spasm of fear.
Deep breath.
"Do it."
Adrenalin pumping; heart racing.
Deep breath.
Sliced air, whooshing blade, grunt from axe-barer.
Quick breath.
Scream of horror.
Blackness.
I was just sitting there going "I'd like to write a story" and then I was like "What hasn't been done a lot?" and I didn't come up with anything so I decided to do a oneshot instead of a story in which Voldemort has won the war and Harry is executed. So there it is. :)
I'd love it if you'd review.
