Fear.
That's what I was feeling.
Oh, I'd felt it before, like when I was eight and fell down the stairs, or when I got hit by a bludger in my third year and fell off my broom, but none of it was like this.
I was standing in front of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—Voldemort—The Dark Lord.
And I was petrified. I had faced dragons, half-crazy merpeople, but this didn't even come close to compare. He had a wand. And he was powerful...
"Kill the spare."
I was going to die.
How would my father and mother react? Would Harry blame himself?
…How would Cho know how I felt?
My life flashed before my eyes in the few seconds I had left to live. I was too young to die…I had my whole life before me! I couldn't die yet. It wasn't possible.
But apparently He-Who-Must-Not-Be-named didn't care about my promising future. He wanted me out of the way, and—
Perhaps if I hadn't been so scared I might've been able to block it, but no.
Green light.
And I knew nothing more.
I crawled out of a wand, Voldemort's wand—No sense in fearing the name now that I was dead, right?--, my spirit-self turning to face Harry potter.
"Take my body to my parents."
And tell Cho I love her.
Best not to complicate things for her. She would get over me, but I couldn't put her through knowing what she lost.
So I stepped aside and let the others come through.
And later, I was gone. Permanently. Not even a spirit-body anymore.
I really shouldn't have died, you know…