A Lost Ending
A blood curdling scream ended the once peaceful quiet as Harry watched the wand point closer and closer to his throat. He cried out with terror and looked helplessly, hopelessly over to his two best friends and as a flash of green light struck him; he fell hard on the cold stone floor with a dull thud, his mouth a parody of a scream. Hermione and Ron sat silently grieving, for they were afraid, the fear bubbling up inside their throats, threatening to choke them, the grief too raw for tears. Like most of them left alive, they wanted nothing more than this morbid nightmare to end, but it didn't, it stayed there constantly as it haunted their once perfect dreams, breaking the soul of their imagination, blurring the lines between illusion and reality.
Now all that is left are broken, shattered dreams of those who wish still in vain for some saviour, some saint to save them. Those scant few lonely spirits drift upon the earth like empty shells trying to find one speck of hope that can save them. But for now they hold onto each other, awaiting untouched hope.
THE END