Epitome of Innocence
The smell of burning flesh met his nose and he cringed as he tasted the ash and smoke in his mouth. All around him scattered bodies were burning. The ash and smoke was collecting in the air and forming a cloud over the entire field. His black cloak was worn and torn, white mask cracked in the middle right between his stormy gray eyes. His pale hands and skin had long since been stained and tainted with the bright red blood that was swimming all over the battlefield.
He had once been what he now considered the epitome of innocence when he was child. He scoffed to himself at the idea as another flash of green light brought down a white-cloaked aurora. Epitome of innocence, he almost laughed out loud, more like naïve, blind obedience, ignorant and self-centered idiot.
Watching the aurora fall to the ground his white hood uncovering the face of the man he had just killed, he stopped short, his eyes widened as sucked in his breath.
The aurora's bright red hair, freckles that crowded his pale skin, opened, yet empty, blue eyes glared back at him.
Weasley.
Ronald Weasley.
He hadn't seen him since the graduation at Hogwarts and now here he was lying in front of him dead. Sure, he hadn't been able to stand the annoying, hot-tempered Gryffindor but he hadn't wanted him dead, not really anyways. He'd never really wanted anyone to be killed, not one of the people that had been struck down with the green light from his wand had he really wanted dead.
As he stood frozen in the middle of the battle he wondered what had happened to Granger and Potter. Were they out here too? Were they one of the auroras he had killed earlier?
Probably not. Nobody was stupid enough to let one of the smartest witches of her time and the only wizard with any chance of defeating the dark lord into a battle in which every body was going to be killed by the end. After all, it was nothing but a massacre out here.
As he stared down at his childhood rival, childhood enemy, he wondered if his death had been worth it. He wondered if any of the fighting, pain, blood, and death was worth it. For the first time since it had all began, with the shooting pain in his arm and the silent tears rolling down his cheeks when he received the Dark Mark, he wondered.
The wand in his hand clattered to the blood stained ground just as the sounds of apparating filled the background. Reinforcements had been sent to the auroras and the Death Eaters were retreating. But for some reason he couldn't. He was frozen in place, blood blurrily filling his vision.
He couldn't take anymore and ended it the only way he knew how. After all he was always one to run, never to face his problems, in conclusion, he was a coward.
Draco Malfoy, a 22-yr-old Death Eater, son of You-Know-Who's left-hand man, Lucius Malfoy, was killed quickly on sight in the greatest battle in the wizarding world's recorded history: The battle of Hogsmeade. The Death Eaters were driven back and this win marked the turning point of the war.
AN: I've previously posted this story before so those of you that are thinking that this is familiar well it is… I lost all of my stories that were previously on disk and I finally got around to retyping it from the paper version.