Chapter Two: Icy Daggers
Ginny stopped suddenly, frozen in mid-step by the cold voice wafted once more through the castle, cutting through all warmth and conversation, as if it was all ice faced with fire. But the ice in the voice was nothing compared to the words that it spoke.
"Harry Potter is dead."
No, it couldn't be, it was not true, it was all a lie. Ginny felt as if the icy voice had turned to knives, which were now cutting through the strings holding up her heart. Her world was suddenly spinning wildly out of control, she felt her knees buckle, but she fought to stay on her feet. "No", she kept repeating in her mind, No, not Harry too!
"He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you laid down you lives for him"
No, Harry couldn't be dead, he just couldn't…and he would never run away from the battle, anyone who knew him would agree, he would never run away and leave his loved ones to die and suffer. It all had to be a lie, it just had to be.
"We bring you his body as proof that your hero is truly gone."
Harry, no….
"The battle is won."
For whom?
"You have lost half of you fighters, my Death Eaters outnumber you, and the boy who lived is gone."
Maybe it was just awful enough to be true, but, Harry?Did it have to be Harry? The rest of Voldemort's speech passed by Ginny in a blur as the now familiar image of Fred's body and a new, just as terrible, image of what Harry's body might look like; laying spread eagle, untidy black hair standing out terribly against his pale skin, that cursed lightning bolt scar standing out in sharp contrast on his forehead, his brilliant emerald eyes open and unseeing…. . It was too terrible for Ginny to imagine. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she was sure to see, and followed the solemn crowd out to the grounds.