If Bold was a Name
Looking back, I always new he would be destined for greatness but not a happy ending. And in a way, I don't think it fit him either as sad a thought as that is. He was born into hardship, raised in hardship, and as it turned out would die in hardship. He never asked for anything and always treated everyone as though they were something- even if that something was a slimy, lying, teacher. People always noticed him where ever he went though he didn't like it; he knew he couldn't change it. But there were many things he tried to change that he couldn't. Like the outcome of the Last Battle. All was lost and yet he still fought, refusing to back down, knowing full well it would kill him. And it did. But his defiance and sheer stubbornness filled everyone with hope and without him, we never would have won.
I remember when we visited Hagrid his blue eyes would shine even if the reason we were there was because of the most dire situations. The only other place they would shine that way was on the Quidditch field. The second his foot stepped on the green grass his eyes would light up in a way no person could make them. Black hair blowing in the breeze only felt at that height, hands gripping the broomstick that kept him there. During games he was never afraid to risk a broken bone or a brutal beating to catch the snitch first. That was his true passion.
Even during the war he never doubted that we would win. Whether that was from stubbornness or pure denial, I don't know. That last battle was horrid and yet he was there to tell us that we would win because we were the only ones who could save the world. His encouraging words were what really kept us going, pure and simple- not our own strength or our wands. I remember the end clearly and it still haunts my nightmares. He looked around at all the fallen and pushed himself up even though he was badly wounded and was lucky to be alive. I knew what he was thinking of- all the people who had died because of a monster that only he could destroy. I knew at that second what he would do. He had a head wound that was bleeding profusely, a broken rib or two, and many bruises and cuts from dodging all of the spells. He was always so bold. He stood- wand in hand- breathed a shaky breath, and then with an outraged cry he pointed his wand at Him and yelled the fatal curse. Our enemy shouted then fell to the ground, his wand shattering into a million shards. That curse took all the life and energy he had left in his battered body. With a shuddering breath, he fell to the blood soaked ground. Our enemies scattered and ran and we- even the wounded- stood and took care of them. If he hadn't destroyed Voldermort, none of us would have had the strength to go on. After witnessing his down fall and the fall of our comrade, we would not let his death be in vain. I ran over to him and laid his head in my lap. He was barely breathing but with the last of his breath, he pulled the most beautiful diamond ring out of his pocket. "Give this to her. Tell her I was going to ask her to marry me but… events arose that could not wait. Tell her….. I love her…" then he died. Ron came over then and knelt down beside us. We both wept bitterly and cursed the Deatheaters and Voldermort.
I awoke the next morning to a dark, grey morning which suited my mood. I was in the hospital. Ron had gone already to be with Lavender and make sure she and their child were alright. I was alone in a small room looking out the window at the ruins that were Hogsmeade. Ginny came in then, trembling and trying her best not to cry. Painfully I handed her the ring and repeated his last words. Ginny crumpled to the floor and I along with her. I don't know how long we laid there sobbing but eventually we couldn't cry any more. We sat and talked about all the times we had shared with him and the laughs we had shared. Eventually Ginny left me and I was sitting alone. Then Draco came in and limped over to me. He held me while I sobbed all over again and listened when I again remembered all the times I had with my deceased friend.
It has been a year today, since I lost my friend. He died knowing what had to be done and without regret to the choices he had made. He knew that there was nothing he could do and even if there was, he wasn't selfish enough to do otherwise. He died boldly and saved us all. If bold was a name it would be Harry Potter.