Look At Where You Have Left Us
Prologue:
The house was ablaze. Anyone inside would be dead within the minute. George Trollad was inside, holding his infant sister, Esmerelda, close to him so she would not see the glowing fate that approached them. She could obviously sense what was happening, she was a smart kid, and so she cried. "Shh, it'll be ok. It'll be ok." George whispered to her. He was lying and she knew it, so she continued to cry, and now he joined her. Fear overtook him as he shook with sobs. They could hear their mother screaming for them from outside the flaming wreck of a house, she had tried to fight off the Death Eaters as soon as they had arrived but she had been overpowered. George had watched from his window in silent terror as his own mother writhed with pain under the Cruciatus Curse. He had watched as they bound her, and she watched as they lit her home on fire with her children trapped inside.
The flames were close now, George could feel the heat. He couldn't breathe, he just sat there, his eyes closed, and waited for the pain. He hoped it would be quick. He hoped the agony wouldn't last, and then he'd be able to see his father again, their deaths brought about by the same black-robed figures. Then he felt it, the fire on the back of his calves, and he screamed. He had never felt such pain in his life. It shot through his whole body in waves, but he still held his sister to him. He would protect her from the flames, or at least he would die trying. Suddenly she let out a cry of pain, and just as George was about to try and shift her away from the deadly blaze, it disappeared; or to be more specific, they did. They were now crouching, huddled, in the garden before their burning wreck of a home.
The Death Eaters who had been watching, laughing and jeering all the while, now stood in momentary shock; staring at the children they had sentenced to death. George looked down at his sister with the same shock. It was clear she had been the one to do it, at least is was to him. He had not yet learned how to apparate, and regardless of this his wand had been on the other side of what had been his room, otherwise, he would have used it to aid their escape. Powerful accidental magic caused by fear of death had saved their lives. All too quickly, reality began to set in and the Death Eaters descended upon the two children. They were each grabbed by the upper arm and pulled apart. "Your little sister's got somethin' in 'er doesn't she." Growled one of the hooded figures. George noticed his mask was broken, revealing a little of the man's face and so he spat at what he could hit. This had not been the wisest decision in terms of self-preservation, as the victim of his projectile then punched him in the stomach. Hard. George yelled then fell to his knees, winded. He knew something had broken. His sister sobbed and screamed as she was dragged from his side; George tried to rise, to fight back. He couldn't. All he could do was watch as the one he loved most on this earth was taken away from him. Then he heard a scream of anger and saw flashes of light flying above him. His mother had risen and was launching a barrage of curses at the shadows who were taking her daughter away. One of the Death Eaters standing over George was hit before he could mount a defense, and he was thrown backwards into the burning house, screaming all the way. His screaming stopped soon after he disappeared into the flames. The man who had hit George raised his wand and began to fire, as did the man who had held Esmerelda. Being gripped with only one loose hand, she now struggled free and ran to George, who still lay motionless on the ground. The Death Eaters paid her no mind; Imogen Trollad was an exceptional dueller, especially when the lives of her children were at stake. Light flew in what seemed to be all directions as the two children huddled together, lit by the horrific orange glow of the fire that had destroyed their lives. There was a cry of pain and one of the two remaining Death Eaters fell to the ground, clutching his side. The final aggressor, seeing he was outmatched, sneered; and with a CRACK, disapparated.
The Trollads were silent. All that they had held dear was gone. George got to his feet, fighting down the urge to scream from the pain of his burns. He walked two paces towards his mother, then fell to the ground once more. She rushed over to him and rolled him onto his back so he was staring at the sky. He saw the tears of anger and sadness rolling down her cheeks. "Oh, George, I am so sorry." She said, her voice taut with emotion, "If I had stopped them- "
"There were three, mum," he croaked, "and they took you by surprise, I'll accept this as an off day." Mother and son shared a chuckle despite themselves just as Esmerelda reached them.
"Georgie!" She cried, a smile on her face and tears rolling down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak again but suddenly there was a CRACK, then a flash of green light. The light hit Esmerelda square in the back. She stood for a second that seemed like an eternity, and George saw the light die from his sister's eyes. She collapsed forward into his arms, and he saw the source of the curse that killed her. The black-robed figure that had hit him, discernible by a broken mask that showed a little of the face of the monster beneath, grinned and was gone.
A crushing weight fell on George's heart as he stared down at his sister's lifeless body. The one thing on this earth he had loved above all, that he had fought in the battle of Hogwarts to protect. She was gone. He stared up at his burning home as his mother fell to her knees beside him, sobbing. He stared, surrounded by what they had done, and felt only rage.