Histories Wrongdoing Chapter 3
Everyone in the room stood in chock as they processed what had happened, silently watching as Goyle fell down face first into the dusty and dirty floor, his precious pure blood flowing freely from the hole in his back unto the floor and mingling with the dirt and dust there. His face etched forever into a visage of insane glee, his teeth bared, and his gleeful and mad eyes spread open as they stared into nothing. As Harry watched around for who had fired the spell, they landed on someone who he had not expected to.
Crabbe stood in the corner behind Malfoy, with a face filled with terror as he at his hands. The hand with the wand was pointing at were Goyle stood and you could still see some tendrils of sickly yellow light flee from the top of the wand. His other hand held the Diadem in a firm grip, his knuckles turned white from the pressure, as if to prevent it from ever being taken from him. Harry felt the fear and panic in him rise as he saw the Diadem, he could feel it whisper in his head, how Ron and Hermione would try take it from him, how he could not defeat Voldemort without the knowledge it could give. Harry had only to take it, and he would finally have a chance against Voldemort, as chance he never had before. He could at last feel that he wasn't only a child trying to defeat the mightiest Dark Lord in the last millennia. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts, that he didn't notice Hermione's scream of terror, the shriek of Malfoy or the words of Crabbe as he pointed his wand at Harry. As he finally saw the red light coming against him and as Harry tried to dodge to the right, he knew it was too late to fully avoid it.
