Noble - for the School of Prompts challenge at HPFC, K.2: 300 words.
It was all over in a flash. Noise, confusion, then nothing.
James Potter had always thought he'd die with honour. He'd imagined, rather morbidly, fighting to his last breath or throwing himself in the line of fire. He hadn't imagined anything but a shining last sacrifice. Of course, he rather hoped he wouldn't die.
So much for claiming not to be a romantic. There was opposing evidence to be found in his elaborate fantasies, each further from reality than the previous, though he couldn't have known that. If not for Peter, he wouldn't have found out what a violent, unjust death really meant.
There was no warning.
Wards fell, betrayal burned, and the door swung open. Only his shouting, very little background noise, and no confusion.
There was no strength.
James was weak. His house had been invaded, his wand was not at hand, and his family was caught in a desperate whirlwind.
There was no last thought.
He would never have the satisfaction of knowing victory before he closed his eyes for the last time. There was just a blinding green light, and then altogether too much silence.
There was no courage.
If he'd had just one more breath, he would have died screaming. Courage falsely stood where a quick death had frozen his terror. His will came from protecting his family, but, by god, he was frightened.
The end was blunt.
The flash of memories he might have expected to fly through was missing, there was no golden moment to hold, he had no god to pray to.
There was nothing left.
With him, Lily, and Harry, the Potter line was done. More importantly, his son's future disappeared, all those happy moments they hadn't yet lived through. With a resounding crash, the gates to what could have been closed firmly shut forever. Promises and vague plans went up in smoke, trips that would never be taken, sights they would never see.
He would never know that Harry had survived. He would never know how noble - how valuable, how instrumental - his sacrifice had been.
