Okies people, a lovely pile of sop for you all. How did this story come about, you ask? It's an assignment for an extension class. We had to design a project for ourselves so we thought, 'Hey! What could be better then embarrassing ourselves totally by writing this!' So here it is!
Disclaimer:
Harry Potter belongs to the wonderful, gorgeous, amazingly talented JK Rowling. Enough said.Who Once Lived
"Oi, Harry!" Ron yelled charging down the hall towards his friend. Harry turned his black robes flowing through the air and green eyes sparkling mischievously to face Ron, and waited for his friend to catch up. His over-excited red haired friend finally reached him, bent over, trying to catch his breath.
"Geez Harry, what are you trying to do, kill me?" Ron panted.
"Oh don't be ridiculous Ron. If you hadn't been charging up the hall like a Hippogriff after Malfoy you wouldn't be tired right now. I, on the other hand-"
"Geez Hermione, give it a rest would you? It's the last day of school and I'm trying to relax and not think about graduation tonight," Ron said, rolling his eyes at Harry.
"Well excuse me for living Ron, it's not my fault you just had Divination with that old bat Trelawny. If you think back to third year you might remember me telling you not to take Divination, but no you just wouldn't listen," Hermione snapped back indignantly.
Harry smiled faintly. This daily arguing was a kind of ritual, and he was used to it. Now that they were almost finished Seventh year they wouldn't see each other as often, and he supposed that it was just Ron and Hermione's way of saying goodbye.
"Um, guys, I really hate to disturb what I will refer to as your conversation for lack of a better word, but we really need to get ready for the Graduation Ceremony," Harry told them.
"Yeah, Hermione needs at least three hours to get ready," Ron smirked, before sprinting off down the corridor.
"Ron!" Hermione yelled after him, before following along with Harry.
Harry pulled his graduation robes over his head, pulling a face at the ornate ribbons and lace that decorated the hems. Cuffs and lace were back 'in' now, a fact that Harry hated. He smiled slightly as his gaze fell on a picture of Ron, Hermione and himself sitting on the dresser beside his bed. He walked over to it and picked it up, his thumb lightly brushing the side of Hermione's smiling face. He had a slight crush on her.
'Probably because she's the only girl I really know and get along with, besides Ginny,' He thought. Deep down he felt that it was something more, however. He glanced at the clock on the wall and, noting the time, headed down to the common room. There was a lot less people at Hogwarts now that Voldemort had returned, mainly because he had taken to attacking the families of people who attended the school. Because of this the Seventh years – who would normally have had only one roommate each anyway – each got a room to themselves.
"Yoo hoo! Harry! Are we going to this Graduation or not?" Ron asked, tapping him on the shoulder.
"Oops. I didn't know you were here," Harry said, laughing slightly.
"Seriously Harry, you're always off with the faeries," Hermione said, shaking her head at him.
"Hey! Don't make fun of Echolalia*!" Harry retorted.
"Sorry. But you do seem to be a bit vacuous lately," She said, smiling slightly at him before grabbing his arm in one hand and Ron's in the other and pulling them towards the Great Hall.
"What happened to the Great Hall?!" Ron exclaimed, mouth hanging open in shock.
"I think someone's gone and found baby pictures of all the Seventh years!" Harry said.
Ron's face suddenly became very calculating. "What's say we go and find Malfoy's?" He suggested, before dashing towards the row of photos on the wall.
"Everyone head calmly towards the back of the Great Hall. The teachers will escort you out safely!" Dumbledore's amplified voice echoed loudly through the room above the screams of terror and pain. Just as the wise old Professor had began to call out students to receive their graduation certificates when the great hall doors fell off their hinges onto the floor and a horde of Deatheaters charged in, screaming battle cries and spells and brandishing their wands. Flashes of green light erupted from the wands of the Deatheaters, sending chills of fear down the 'Dream Team's' collective spines. Voldemort entered the room, yelling at his Deatheaters to find 'the Potter boy'. Hermione's little sister, who had come with her parents to view the graduation ran towards Voldemort, her chubby little face scrunched up in anger.
"Bad man! You're a bad, bad, bad – " A green flash of light erupted from his wand. Hermione flew towards her sister, who dropped to the ground, dead. She turned a tearful face towards Voldemort and, picking up her wand, began to curse and hex him frantically. He brushed aside the attacks as if they were nothing, and glared down at her.
"Shut up Mudblood. You offend me." Another flash of green light swept over her, and Harry gave a roar, running to her side. He knelt beside her still body, tears running down his face.
"What's the matter Potter? Upset? Did you lose your love? Aww, poor baby. Don't worry though. You'll soon be joining her," Voldemort sneered, aiming his wand at Harry. "Avada Kedav –"
Harry snarled and turned towards Voldemort, wand in hand. "AVADA KEDAVRA!!!"
The green light swept over the Dark Lord. He stood stock-still for a moment, a look of utmost surprise on his face, before falling back, lifeless.
"For all the people whose lives you've stolen," Harry said quietly, looking down on the body. "And especially for you Hermione. I'm coming, dearest." He turned his wand to face himself.
"Harry don't!" Ron yelled. It was too late. Harry had already muttered the words and his body crumpled to a heap besides Hermione, a faint smile gracing his otherwise pale face.
That night Wizards and Witches all over the world raised their glasses as they had done sixteen years ago and toasted Harry Potter, the Boy Who Once Lived.
*Echolalia – A character who will be appearing in Farseeker's Harry Potter and the Power of Will shortly.
So there we have it people! Sop? YES! Angst? YES! Silly? YES! My co-writer objects, but my opinion still stands, and I am the one in control of the keyboard! Review if you want, lame if you want, we don't care.
HermioneHer