Disclaimer: Everything but Odessa Amity belongs to J.K. Rowling!
It was hard to believe he was gone. Indescribable sorrow began to swallow the voluntary actions that were controlling how she thought, how she felt, and how she moved. Her heart felt as though it had collapsed in on itself, causing the blood to stop flowing, and her body to crumple into a little ball, lifeless.
But it all came down to the fact that he was gone. She knew it, she believed it, but she didn't Ifeel/I it.
His body lay before her, mangled and soaked from the rain. The blood was gone now, washed away from the tears falling from heaven. But his white shirt still held the remembrance of the fighting, the screams and the death.
She could hear the voices behind her, the men having to yell to be heard over the deafening rain. But she didn't want to hear them.
All she wanted was for him to come back. In one second, her life had been changed forever, her heart and her mind clashing ideas against each other.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to live. He was supposed to rise above all of life's challenges and succeed where none other had. He was supposed to be there by her side.
"Odessa!"
When he'd fallen, someone had rushed forward to keep her out of the spell. But she'd escaped, intent on reaching him, intent on keeping him alive. She'd managed one of the two, but in her mind, one out of two just wasn't enough. He was still dead and it was still her fault.
She could feel the mud soaking through her robes, but she didn't care. In the grand scheme of things, it just really didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was gone, and he was never coming back.
The fight was still going on around her, the scattered yells of 'Stupefy!' and 'Expelliarmius!' echoing over the grounds. When she looked up, she could see her friends. Some alive, fighting for their lives. Some barely alive, fighting against life.
Through all the anguish and horror filled thoughts, she felt pride. Pride in her friends for standing against the only thing that took away their happiness and their families. But it was plain to her, that life was not meant for all of those around her.
She didn't dare move, she could feel the anger welling up inside, the hurt finally tearing at her soul.
Harry was dead.
Fallen at the hands of Lord Voldemort himself.
"Avada Kedavra!"
With those last two words, the rain stopped, and the sun immediately began to shine on the broken and shattered lives that were strewn across the grounds of Hogwarts.
Voldemort had fallen for the last time. And standing with his wand outstretched, panting heavily, was Neville Longbottom.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…
A/N: This is my first shot at Fanfic, so don't hate me. This part just came to me, and I wrote. I have no Idea where I'm going with this, so if you like this and want me to keep going, leave a review and tell me what you think along with any ideas you might have. Thanks!
It was hard to believe he was gone. Indescribable sorrow began to swallow the voluntary actions that were controlling how she thought, how she felt, and how she moved. Her heart felt as though it had collapsed in on itself, causing the blood to stop flowing, and her body to crumple into a little ball, lifeless.
But it all came down to the fact that he was gone. She knew it, she believed it, but she didn't Ifeel/I it.
His body lay before her, mangled and soaked from the rain. The blood was gone now, washed away from the tears falling from heaven. But his white shirt still held the remembrance of the fighting, the screams and the death.
She could hear the voices behind her, the men having to yell to be heard over the deafening rain. But she didn't want to hear them.
All she wanted was for him to come back. In one second, her life had been changed forever, her heart and her mind clashing ideas against each other.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to live. He was supposed to rise above all of life's challenges and succeed where none other had. He was supposed to be there by her side.
"Odessa!"
When he'd fallen, someone had rushed forward to keep her out of the spell. But she'd escaped, intent on reaching him, intent on keeping him alive. She'd managed one of the two, but in her mind, one out of two just wasn't enough. He was still dead and it was still her fault.
She could feel the mud soaking through her robes, but she didn't care. In the grand scheme of things, it just really didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was gone, and he was never coming back.
The fight was still going on around her, the scattered yells of 'Stupefy!' and 'Expelliarmius!' echoing over the grounds. When she looked up, she could see her friends. Some alive, fighting for their lives. Some barely alive, fighting against life.
Through all the anguish and horror filled thoughts, she felt pride. Pride in her friends for standing against the only thing that took away their happiness and their families. But it was plain to her, that life was not meant for all of those around her.
She didn't dare move, she could feel the anger welling up inside, the hurt finally tearing at her soul.
Harry was dead.
Fallen at the hands of Lord Voldemort himself.
"Avada Kedavra!"
With those last two words, the rain stopped, and the sun immediately began to shine on the broken and shattered lives that were strewn across the grounds of Hogwarts.
Voldemort had fallen for the last time. And standing with his wand outstretched, panting heavily, was Neville Longbottom.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…
A/N: This is my first shot at Fanfic, so don't hate me. This part just came to me, and I wrote. I have no Idea where I'm going with this, so if you like this and want me to keep going, leave a review and tell me what you think along with any ideas you might have. Thanks!