This was it. The final battle between good wizards and bad. And it just
happened to be in Hogwarts. For most of those battling, it was unbearable.
Seeing those you loved killed at the place you nearly grew up in. It was
extremely hard on him. This place kept his best memories, now it also kept
his worst.
He had to keep on fighting, they would not give up without a figth. Even if he was on the losing side.
He tripped over an body, while running from the other side. They were losing the war. He shouted a curse and fired it at a unsuspecting wizard.
'Oops. Sorry buddy, but you picked the wrong team.' He almost smiled at the remark. Almost. One would not smile when his best friend at been killed within the last hour or so.
He headed to the door while sending various curses to the mob. It didn't matter if he hit is own side, since he was getting second thoughts about his own side.
'But then again, this is the life I chose.' He reminded himself and continued to shouting curses at the mob that was in the dungeons.
He got to the stairs and hurried up them, carefully stepping over the body that lied in them. The situation was no better at the first floor.
There where wizards killing each other and healing. He even saw an red haired wizard beating up another with a broomstick. Where he got that broom, no one knows.
He looked shocked around the room. And he thought the dungeons where bad. Compared to this, it was like a walk in the park.
He winced when he saw a petite woman with black hair sprawled across the floor. He knew her. They had been involved in their fifth year. She had been his first. There was definitely nothing good about wars.
Stroking the tears away from his face, he silently stood there for a small while before going back to the fight. At first it had only been duty. Now it was personal.
With a war cry he didn't even bother to kill them right away, he found the most painful spells that he knew of and used them. Blinded by rage he didn't notice when a misplaced broom stick came flying through the air and threw his wand away.
He spun around and saw, on his left, the man that ruined his life. And a wand was pointed at the person standing in front of him. Hermione Granger.
Everything seemed to go in slow motion. The person shouted the curse, while he ran and jumped her out of the way.
But he wasn't fast enough. The spell hit him in the shoulder and threw him backwards. Only then his brain registered the words used. Avada kedavra.
Then everything went black. The last thing he remembered was the thankful face of Hermione.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*--*
bHe, he. Guess who 'he' is. I bet that you can never figure it out.
If you can I'll write another chapter, if you can't.....I'll write on anyways./b
He had to keep on fighting, they would not give up without a figth. Even if he was on the losing side.
He tripped over an body, while running from the other side. They were losing the war. He shouted a curse and fired it at a unsuspecting wizard.
'Oops. Sorry buddy, but you picked the wrong team.' He almost smiled at the remark. Almost. One would not smile when his best friend at been killed within the last hour or so.
He headed to the door while sending various curses to the mob. It didn't matter if he hit is own side, since he was getting second thoughts about his own side.
'But then again, this is the life I chose.' He reminded himself and continued to shouting curses at the mob that was in the dungeons.
He got to the stairs and hurried up them, carefully stepping over the body that lied in them. The situation was no better at the first floor.
There where wizards killing each other and healing. He even saw an red haired wizard beating up another with a broomstick. Where he got that broom, no one knows.
He looked shocked around the room. And he thought the dungeons where bad. Compared to this, it was like a walk in the park.
He winced when he saw a petite woman with black hair sprawled across the floor. He knew her. They had been involved in their fifth year. She had been his first. There was definitely nothing good about wars.
Stroking the tears away from his face, he silently stood there for a small while before going back to the fight. At first it had only been duty. Now it was personal.
With a war cry he didn't even bother to kill them right away, he found the most painful spells that he knew of and used them. Blinded by rage he didn't notice when a misplaced broom stick came flying through the air and threw his wand away.
He spun around and saw, on his left, the man that ruined his life. And a wand was pointed at the person standing in front of him. Hermione Granger.
Everything seemed to go in slow motion. The person shouted the curse, while he ran and jumped her out of the way.
But he wasn't fast enough. The spell hit him in the shoulder and threw him backwards. Only then his brain registered the words used. Avada kedavra.
Then everything went black. The last thing he remembered was the thankful face of Hermione.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*--*
bHe, he. Guess who 'he' is. I bet that you can never figure it out.
If you can I'll write another chapter, if you can't.....I'll write on anyways./b