The Sword that is Not a Sword
Disclaimer: Wish I did, but I don't. Wish I could, but I can't. I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Therefore, you have no cause to sue me. I am merely trying to amuse my extremely sick mind. Author's Notes: I'm jumping to the end of the year.SECOND-TO-LAST CHAPTER, PEOPLE!!!
Part 7: Old Friends, New Friends, Fight for your Life, Fight for your Soul
I found the sword. I knew the Dark Lord had as well. It was all he needed to reach total domination. Total annihilation. Life as we knew it- indeed, possibly life in general-would cease to exist.
I paced agitatedly back and forth in my office. My list of options was growing short. So was my time. I stopped pacing and threw myself into a chair. I stared moodily into the fire. According to my people, I was just barely a teenager. I was, by all accounts, too young for this responsibility. But if I didn't do it.who would?
It had to be that night. I resumed pacing. I had to get the sword to my father tonight. If I moved any slower, the Dark Lord would get it. that could not be allowed.
I would destroy my own soul first.
* * *
Guenevere paced back and forth at the shore of the lake. Back and forth. She glanced at the sky. The moon had to be at precisely the right height for her to see the sword. She glanced at the forest. She sincerely hoped her backup was there.
Time. She dove into the water. Down and down and down. She looked around. She knew from experience that the merpeople would leave her alone. She still didn't want to take chances. She would have cried out triumphantly if that hadn't meant swallowing water.
The sword.
Guenevere grasped the ancient sword by the hilt and began pelting herself towards the surface. Her head broke the surface. She saw her.odd.reinforcement standing on the shore. "Ready?" she asked him. He nodded. She lept onto his back. They began to run towards the edge of the grounds.
And, as luck would have it, they bumped into the Dark Lord himself.
"Wonderful," Guenevere hissed. "Wait here," she said to her reinforcement. He glared at her and shook his head. She sighed. "Fine, then. But stay out of my way." He looked away. "You," she said to the Dark Lord. "You want the sword? Come and take it."
"Fine, then." He attacked.
* * *
More than an hour later, she fell to her knees, gasping. She kept her grip on the sword. He bent down, holding his wand pointed directly to her chest.
"Time to die, she-elf!"
Guenevere gasped. Her friend looked at her in shock. "How.how do you know?"
"I just know."
Guenevere lowered her head, pretending defeat. 'Come on,' she thought. 'Just a little lower.come on.bend.bend.NOW!' She jerked the sword up and around and sliced of the Dark Lord's head. She sank back to the ground, so close to losing consciousness it wasn't funny. "Moonlight.send the letters.please." she whispered. Then she allowed herself to lose consciousness.
Disclaimer: Wish I did, but I don't. Wish I could, but I can't. I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. Therefore, you have no cause to sue me. I am merely trying to amuse my extremely sick mind. Author's Notes: I'm jumping to the end of the year.SECOND-TO-LAST CHAPTER, PEOPLE!!!
Part 7: Old Friends, New Friends, Fight for your Life, Fight for your Soul
I found the sword. I knew the Dark Lord had as well. It was all he needed to reach total domination. Total annihilation. Life as we knew it- indeed, possibly life in general-would cease to exist.
I paced agitatedly back and forth in my office. My list of options was growing short. So was my time. I stopped pacing and threw myself into a chair. I stared moodily into the fire. According to my people, I was just barely a teenager. I was, by all accounts, too young for this responsibility. But if I didn't do it.who would?
It had to be that night. I resumed pacing. I had to get the sword to my father tonight. If I moved any slower, the Dark Lord would get it. that could not be allowed.
I would destroy my own soul first.
* * *
Guenevere paced back and forth at the shore of the lake. Back and forth. She glanced at the sky. The moon had to be at precisely the right height for her to see the sword. She glanced at the forest. She sincerely hoped her backup was there.
Time. She dove into the water. Down and down and down. She looked around. She knew from experience that the merpeople would leave her alone. She still didn't want to take chances. She would have cried out triumphantly if that hadn't meant swallowing water.
The sword.
Guenevere grasped the ancient sword by the hilt and began pelting herself towards the surface. Her head broke the surface. She saw her.odd.reinforcement standing on the shore. "Ready?" she asked him. He nodded. She lept onto his back. They began to run towards the edge of the grounds.
And, as luck would have it, they bumped into the Dark Lord himself.
"Wonderful," Guenevere hissed. "Wait here," she said to her reinforcement. He glared at her and shook his head. She sighed. "Fine, then. But stay out of my way." He looked away. "You," she said to the Dark Lord. "You want the sword? Come and take it."
"Fine, then." He attacked.
* * *
More than an hour later, she fell to her knees, gasping. She kept her grip on the sword. He bent down, holding his wand pointed directly to her chest.
"Time to die, she-elf!"
Guenevere gasped. Her friend looked at her in shock. "How.how do you know?"
"I just know."
Guenevere lowered her head, pretending defeat. 'Come on,' she thought. 'Just a little lower.come on.bend.bend.NOW!' She jerked the sword up and around and sliced of the Dark Lord's head. She sank back to the ground, so close to losing consciousness it wasn't funny. "Moonlight.send the letters.please." she whispered. Then she allowed herself to lose consciousness.