The innocent Snow
She didn't know for how long they had been running, it was a few hours ago she lost all track of time.
Her brown fur was sweaty and sticky with mud and to her sorrow, blood.
The paws that was touching the ground had wounds on them and where leaving red trails of blood in the white snow.
White.
Her father always said it was the colour of innocent, but how could that bee true on a night like this?
It's snowing now and the wind is ripping the few leafs that managed the autumn of the branches; behind her was a cat with strange markings around the dark eyes walks in her trail.
Professor McGonagall was the only one that survived the second attack and managed to get of the ground before the castle stood in flames.
Now, she was walking behind the girl she had thought transfiguration for seven years.
They do have a lot in common, the strictness, the intolerance for rule breaking and now, the Animagi.
In the beginning of her sixth year, Professor McGonagall had taken it up on herself to teach her the art of Animagi and in the late winter term, she had succeeded.
Oh, how happy she had been that day.
Happy for herself and for the hope that had begun to flare inside her, the hope of magic, pureblood or not.
And oh, how wrong she had been, she realised that now.
There was no thing like happiness, and definitely not a thing like innocent.
Not in this world of darkness, this world of Voldemort.
She had seen first years kill, seen little boys killed and small girls screaming in pain.
She had seen her friends and foes beg for mercy and receiving a curse in response.
She had seen Pansy Parkinson die under the curse of crucido and even though she never liked the girl, it didn't stop her from mourning her death.
The fact that she didn't know half of the people she saw die did not stop the hurting she felt in her soul and it did not mean she didn't think, "Could I have saved her?"
It did not mean that.
Slowly, the wolf turned her head to the dark sky; there would be no stars tonight.
Even they where fading in the darkness of death.
They would need to find a shelter soon; behind her she could hear McGonagalls exhausted and forced breath and the wind seemed to just become stronger and stronger, a storm would be upon them soon.
She did not want to see the sky so for a moment she stopped in her walk and closed her eyes.
A warm wave swept thru her hurting body and she thought, for a moment, that the storm had ended, that her paws where whole again and that her broken ribs where just an illusion.
For a moment she thought the stars shone like every other day, and that Hogwarts was still standing.
For a moment she felt nothing and then she opened her eyes.
And saw the snow glistering underneath her and the sun, the light, rising above the treetops.
The morning had come and now, she had to a journey to make.
Not with Minerva and not away from the death eaters or Hogwarts ruins.
No, this journey she was travelling alone, and she was travelling to Nirvana.