Harry Potter does not belong to me, Its JKR's. Mistborn does not belong to me, it's Brandon Sanderson's. Sandman does not belong to me, It's Neil Gaiman's. Though the new Ideas and plot twists do belong to me, I guess o.O anyway! I make NO profit out of this.
Chapter 2 - The Sound of Her Wings
I consider myself to be a man of principle. But, what man does not? Even the cutthroat, I have noticed, considers his actions "moral" after a fashion.
Perhaps another person, reading of my life, would name me a tyrant. He could call me arrogant. What is to make that man's opinion any less valid than my own?
I guess it all comes down to one fact: In the end, I'm the one with the armies.
- Mistborn: The Final Empire
Hermione Granger whipped her wand through the air, spinning in the middle of the Great Hall, her mind a blur, her senses awash with the thrill of battle. Beside her, Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom Swung their wands like swords at the scurrying Death Eaters as they insistently pushed and pulled at her, in an attempt to get her out into the corridors. Draco had his hand in hers, and was in the process of dragging her out towards the hall entrance. Red, blue and green light bloomed from the tip of his wand, while behind her, Neville's flashed shades of violet and azure.
Harry Potter had come to see him, before this shitstorm had taken wing, Potter had found him and Longbottom while they were dragging bodies back to the Great Hall. He had stood there, staring at the face of Colin Creevey. After what seemed like years, potter had turned to face them. "She won't understand, Draco," Potter had then placed a hand on his shoulder, and he'd tried his best not to flinch. "She can't understand. She will want to be in the middle of it. You must get her away from it." Then he'd turned and addressed Longbottom. Draco didn't understand why Potter wanted him to get granger to safety, but he supposed it must be some stupid exercise in redemption to Potter's eyes.
Several rays of blue light bloomed over Granger's head, Draco ducked, pulling her down with him. His wand arm whipped out in front of him and the Death Eater crumpled in a blaze of red light, almost disjointedly Draco could make out the sound of beating wings, he didn't have the time to wonder what that meant."COME ON! Granger, I gave him my word that I would get you to safety, and that's what I Intend to do." His blond hair whipped around his face as he shouted over the noise of battle, behind her Neville pushed her in acquiescence. "And, where the fuck is Weasley?"
"Let me go. Malfoy, let me go!" She screamed, tugging at his vice-like grip. I need to get to Harry. "I need to find him" Her throat was dry, parched from screaming orders, this side of Hogwarts. That was what he had told them, her and Ron, to take charge of the battle. "I need to find him!" she whispered hoarsely.
Draco Malfoy grimaced, his handsome features contorting with fear, guilt and harrowing sadness. "Face it Granger, there's only one reason they're pushing like this and it sure as Merlin isn't because the Dark Lord hasn't killed Potter already!." His hands and feet slipped on the glassy marble floor, as he scrambled with her and Neville over the dismembered corpses that were strewn pell-mell over it. He still didn't know how he felt about that, about Potter. Potter had saved him, had saved them all in his own way, true, but he still felt that twinge of rejection that followed him round like an old lover.
"NO!" Neville Longbottom heard Hermione scream, and hastily gave her back a push, as he set Dawlish on fire with a quick incendio. "Kill the snake." Those words were etched onto the back of his mind, repeating over and over again drowning out Dawlish's screams. As he pushed Hermione over a congestion of rubble and tumbled over it himself, he pondered, what it meant. Ron had disappeared with Luna, halfway through the battle, and with Hermione positively blinded by vengeance, the task fell to him, as per Harry's final orders. Merlin! he needed to stop thinking like Harry was already dead!. In front of him, Malfoy dragged Hermione through the splayed oak doors of the Great Hall. Breathing deep, Neville Longbottom followed them out.
Ron Weasley was crouching in the destroyed ruins of what once was the Hogwarts infirmary. He was trembling, clutching Luna Lovegood to himself as he desperately tried to heal the deep gash on her side. "I lost Fred, I am NOT going to lose you too!" He whispered as if it was a spell as he tried in vain to mend the wound. Luna gasped, a trickle of blood dripping from the corner of her mouth, snaking its way down her cheek. Her body jerked, making him drop his wand, as he scrambled to hold her still.
"Luna?" He whispered after the spasms subsided. She moaned, then cracking open her eyes, drawing long wheezing breaths through her half-opened mouth. "Ron?"
At the sound of her voice so twisted and pained, the dam Ron Weasley had so carefully built, since he had been a simple boy growing up with five brothers, shattered. Laying his forehead on hers, he sobbed. Covering her hands in his, and entwining their fingers he gently squeezed hers, and captured her lips with a soft kiss.
"Ronald, don't cry, the Nargles might alert the death eaters!" She whispered, freeing a hand and trying to wipe off his tears. Ron choked, a smile breaking in opposition to his tears."Luna.." he whispered, touching the tip of his nose to hers. "Ronald, I'm most probably going to die..." Ron made a sound halfway between a growl and a moan. "Luna, don't say that." His voice had a dangerous edge to it. Luna smiled and moved her face so that her face lay comfortably in the crook of his neck. "Ronald... I really am probably going to die, and I want you to keep on going, long after I'm gone. I want you to find happiness. Listen to Harry and Hermione."
Ron would have told her then that Harry was most probably dead by now if she had not groaned in pain. Ron's heart shattered to a million pieces as he pulled her closer to him, his tears dampening the fabric on her shoulder.
There In the dark, crumbling infirmary, Ron Weasley held the love of his life as she died, until the sparkling Nargles settled, covering them both, and the steady sound of beating wings eclipsed the cacophony of battle.
She watched, suspended above the clearing in the forest by her beating wings, wings with feathers that seemed like watchful eyes, that now closed so frequently. As she was here she was also walking the halls of the castle, the corridors, and grounds, closing the eyes of the dead, and easing them on.
Looking down at the clearing, she looked at the limp forms on the ground. That boy, laying still, glasses glinting in the moonlight, was special. Harry Potter. she fingered the ankh that hung from a silver chain around her neck.
This was wrong. She was supposed to be there, with him. easing him on. He was dead, she could feel it, and yet he was not. She could feel that too. She did not like what this meant. He would not wake, even when she ran her fingers over the line of his jaw, or touched the tip of his nose. He would not move. Yet he would not permit her to ferry him onward . The only thing she could think of was that he was in a place between, a shared domain, in which she was all powerful, while at once having no power. This had not happened in so long, she did not remember protocol. she wasn't sure if protocol even existed for such a situation. She would wait.
Suspended atop the clearing Death waited.
AN:- Hello all. :Waves: Missed you guys a lot! Thing is, I was hit with a huge case of writers block and had to clear out and redo a few chapters. Mass Defect update is coming soon I promise, just some trimming to be done. I thank you all for sticking with my humble story :Snickers: so far, without you, I wouldn't have the motivation to resume my original work! for this, I thank you from the depths of my heart.
As always: Comments, Criticisms, flames, requests all are welcome. Just press that button below right there, yeah that one, and you're good to go!
