Thank you to skyjadeprincess for favouriting and to bwota3 for following. I've decided to rewrite chapters one and part of chapter two, and I've combined them into this chapter. They just felt a bit clunky but I'm a lot happier with them now. Hope you enjoy!
...
You do not avada an unarmed man.
You do not leave a person in need.
You do not kill a child.
No one deserves to die alone.
These are the rules they had fought by, soldier after soldier falling next to them. As friends' bodies crumpled into the ground, they waited for the end by their sides, never using distractions to their advantage. Fairness had cost them dearly, being good had wrecked their world. So they weren't the same heroes anymore.
...
No one paid any attention to two bodies pressed against a wall. The war had pushed social customs out the window, leaving people clutching to whatever humanity they could. The flames down the other end of the street attracted a crowd, all too distracted to see the knife that one of the intertwined figures pulled out; its victim's screams were lost in the flurry of confused cries around the fire. Not one person paid much attention to the bloody body discarded in an alley; the war had taken many casualties and now they did not care as long as their loved ones were safe. Nobody noticed the distinctive crack of disapparation as a ginger haired boy disappeared from the crime scene.
...
Every nerve in his body screamed as she hit him with curse after curse. She was ruthless, torturing him to find the secrets lurking in his head. His body was breaking, mind no longer strong enough to protect the knowledge. And then she was inside his head. And it hurt. It hurt as she ripped him to shreds from the inside out, tearing him open to find his secrets. He was nothing compared to the raw determination of the bushy-haired girl. He was nothing and she was brutal.
...
The office was organised neatly, making the job a quick in and out. It didn't take long to find the plans; those confident in their power tend to leave traces. Pulling his invisibility cloak over his head, a green-eyed boy walked in the shadows to the nearest disapparation point. A flash of long, red hair appeared in a doorway next to him and it was all he could to hold himself together until he felt the familiar bump of landing safely in their hideout.
She came with her fire-like red hair and passion burning behind her eyes. Ginny. Guilt started to rise up in his chest and he felt numb with grief as his demon snarled at him.
'You left me. You knew which way the war was headed. You left me and you're too weak to face your actions.'
She twisted his fears, left his guilt clawing at his throat, screaming silent pleas for her to stop.
Her mangled body was imprinted on his eyelids. He could see the death and destruction they had found at the Burrow upon their return. If he looked to the left he could see a mother who had thrown herself in front of her daughter in a final, meaningless sacrifice. The Death Eaters didn't only kill, they maimed, and they revelled in every second of it.
Harry Potter could only listen as her words bit him, an animal attacking him from inside with each passing second. He could only sit helplessly as the guilt overcame him and the dark was shattered in a display of raw and agonised magic.
...
One.
Two.
Three.
Ron Weasley counted the number of seconds until the men in masks found him.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Drawing the final runes on the wall he stepped back, melting into the shadows.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
The men turned the corner. Coming face to face with a wall, they stopped and reached out a hand to touch the strange markings covering the barrier.
Ron didn't even blink as he disapparated from the wreckage, focussed on returning to the only safe place he knew.
He stood silently at the edge of the stairs. It was deathly quiet and, with the adrenaline seeping out after his mission, he felt awfully alone standing there.
He hadn't moved when someone else came up, and Hermione was looking at him with a strange sense of urgency. He had only just begun to form his sentence when he was thrown backwards in a wave of unyielding energy.
...
Hermione Granger fell back exhausted. It had taken all the strength she had to obliviate her victim's memory - he had been fighting for days and her curses had left a permanent blemish in his mind. She tried not to think about his pleading; it tugged on the few unhardened heartstrings she had left. Inside she knew it was stupid, he had bragged to her about the mangled bodies he liked to leave behind. But with every memory she obliterated, she felt a little further away from the caring girl her parents had raised.
Pieces of dry blood flaked out from under her fingernails. She was in desperate need of a shower, an escape from magic and war and death and blood and torture. But having collected information - vital information - she knew that there wasn't any time for her to hide away.
Her muscles screamed in protest after uninterrupted hours of mindless wand waving. She didn't stop to look at the groaning body behind her; he was a shell. She would deal with him later.
'Merlin's fucking saggy balls.'
Hermione moved up the stairs slowly, dragging her limbs towards the only other room they had.
They weren't ready, she knew that much, but time wasn't on their side and they had to move fast. She looked up and chocolate eyes met tired blue before she was blasted away by a surge of pure power.