Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K.Rowling; all Sandman characters belong to Neil Gaimon. No characters in this story belong to me.
A.N.: Not sure why I wrote this, I just felt I should.
III
Night has long since fallen. The towers of the castle are spotted with lights, candle light flickering out of windows, but one by one they are dimming as students fall asleep.
This school is not like any other. Here students learn magic. Here they transform objects into animals, and back again. Here they charm objects to fly across rooms. Here they stopper death and bottle fame. These children are not normal children. They are gifted. They are wizards and witches.
But they are just as susceptible to human emotion as the "muggles" from which they hide. There hearts still flutter at the sight of that special some one. They still cower in fear when they have not completed some homework. They are gifted, but they are only human. And they are forever watched.
Luna Lovegood sits alone in the Ravenclaw common room. She is conjuring butterflies with her wand, and watching as they flutter for a moment before ceasing to exist. She is vaguely aware of the little girl who sits near her, smiling at the butterflies. Luna has always had this strange child by her side. She assumes every one has a child like her. Delirium would probably agree.
Ron Weasley pretends he is not watching Hermione Granger as she scribbles on a peace of parchment. She looks up at him and he is too late to look away. She instructs him to do his own homework and stop trying to copy hers. He'll never admit that he wasn't looking at her work, that he was looking at her, and the way her hair falls over her face just right. She'll never admit that she likes it when she catches him looking at her. In the corner of the room, Desire smiles to itself, and increases the pressure on them slightly.
Neville Longbottom sits alone in the library. He is reading another letter from his grandmother, telling him what a disappointment he is. He scrunches up the parchment and throws it across the room, biting down hard on his lip. He closes his eyes for a long, long time, and when he opens them they are moist, and he wipes them angrily. He sniffs, and stands up, fixing a smile on his face. But Despair just continues to wait patiently. She knows in the end he will enter her realm, and he will not leave.
A poltergeist named Peeves smashes another chandelier. Over a thousand miles away, Destruction smiles, but feels that Fred and George Weasley had so much more style.
Ginny Weasley lies in her bed, her covers pulled up to her flaming red hair. She is asleep, and dreaming of a tall boy with dark hair and deep blue eyes, following her through dark passages. Her heart is fluttering wildly, and fear has her in its grips. Dream stands above the girl, and a moment's sympathy runs through him. He thinks, perhaps, that tomorrow night she will have good dreams.
Harry Potter sits alone in his bed chamber. His face is buried in his hands, as he tries to find within him the strength that everyone seems to believe he has. He considers running away. Packing up his bags and leaving the school forever, leaving all his problems, all the prophesies. But still he sits. He will not move. Destiny stands behind him, one hand fixed firmly on the boys shoulder.
Death watches her siblings as they affect the children's lives. She knows that their actions will affect the course of human history, But she also knows, that in the end, it will all be the same. She will come to them, and embrace them, and they will have no choice but to go with her.
"Good night kiddos." She whispers to herself, and leaves. And they all feel her go.
III
End