Remus was only aware of the pain in his stomach. The curse was slowly eating away at his intestines and it hurt like hell. He hadn't seen the curse coming, and it had hit him from behind.
Far away, in a land beyond the numbing pain there was the sounds of battle. Yells, shouts, screams, cries.
Looks like he was finally biting the dust. He sincerely hoped Harry and Sirius got out of here alive. He felt a wave of cold wash over him, and remembered staring at the ruins of the Potter's house, disbelieving.
He really hated Dementors.
His limbs still worked, and he pushed himself onto his knees. He choked back a cry as it felt like wave of knives stabbed him in the stomach. After a moment he cracked his eyes open. Everything was confused, blurry, with too many people moving for him to focus.
He moved his arm, the wand clutching his wand, and pointed it at a Dementor. A figure walked up to him from his right side, black blur except for the white blur that would most likely be it's Death Eater mask.
He dimly felt the blow, before he hit the ground again.
He shifted in a futile effort to move; He lay there, trying to make sense of what his eyes were seeing.
His eyes were attracted to a bright white light, with a bright shimmering red in front of it, blending into the white. He closed his eyes against the sudden, blinding light; The pain becoming too much.
Then he felt a wave of peace, the kind of happiness that you can't fight against. Brief flitting images filled with joy, making him forget the pain. Then it was fading fast, and the pain returned with a vengeance. He lost consciousness.
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He moved around surreptitiously, doing what he could for the people lying in the street. After the wave hit, the Dementors weren't a problem. The Death Eaters were shocked and scared. Not everyday that they got a burst of wholesome, all encompassing joy.
But the injured were still there.
A potion down this man's throat, a calming charm on this child. A woman lay there, her arm completely severed by a curse. Nothing he could do for her. A charm and a potion for a man who was petrified and had a deep gash across his chest.
He moved to Remus. This unconscious man in tattered robes was dying. Among the wounded, they wouldn't have enough time to save him. He would die, and it would be a terrible blow. In the Order, it was an unmentioned feeling that they could very well lose best friends, siblings, parents even.
He put his hand on the thin werewolf's chest, and closed his eyes. Apparating wasn't the only way to get from one place to another. They literally faded out of the Alley and faded into another place.
Now they were in a white room, stocked with all manner of things. He levitated Remus onto a counter by the wall. He was going to have a long night ahead. After carefully coaxing the man into downing a series of potions, he began the real work. There was a reason it took years to learn healing spells. After this, he was going feel like a truck ran over him. Repeatedly. Maybe more like a train. And he already felt like he'd encountered a rampaging herd of Hippographs.
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The Hit Wizards arrived in time to bring down the last of the Death Eaters who hadn't fled. No buildings were aflame, but several were wrecked. Dementors, hundreds, lay unmoving on the ground, along with random debris and fallen people.
The senior Auror looked around and immediately went over to a man who had been caught in the attack. The nondescript man just so happened to be the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The man, Liam Forsyth, was bleeding from a wound on his cheek; He was also coldly surveying his surroundings.
"Sir."
"Bloody hell."
A curt nod. "Medical crews are on their way."
"Secure the area, and get someone from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
"Sir?"
Liam nodded his head towards the unicorn that was shying away from an approaching wizard. "I don't really know either. Move." He fully realized that if -whatever- hadn't happened he would either be dead or a captive of Voldemort.
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To be a unicorn. Peace. He could not think an unhappy thought. His bad memories faded and he lost himself… He became the peace.
He was in a place that smelled of fear, anger, and pain. He did not like it; It was contrary to his nature.
A wizard tried approaching him and he shied away, growing panicked.
Escape.
He galloped away, feeling his hooves bound against the street. He would find a forest, the natural earth, where he belonged.
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So, what do you look for in a story? I find myself drawn to dimension/time shifting stories, like 'Dimension Wander.' (I also read too much science fiction and fantasy). Bit there are those wonderfully written stories that I get stuck in, like 'HP and the Third Key' -which is at Schnoogle, or those angst filled and sad ones. (No, not the I'm-Harry-a-depressed-teenager-watch-me-turn-into-an-evil-mean-Slytherin ones). A really good example of a well written depressing fic would be 'Never Alone, Never Again.'
So, what do you look for?
