To the Death

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That's when I felt a hand wrap around my neck. My hands flew up to my throat instinctively as the unknown person's hands slowly squeezed the life out of me. They were the hands of a man, but… they had a small softness about them. I don't know why I was thinking about the hands that were crushing my windpipe, but I swore those hands were familiar.

My eyes bulged from their sockets as I continued to struggle against him, kicking and clawing, desperate to escape the clutches of death. I began to feel dizzy and a bit weak. Suddenly I was filled with an overwhelming amount of cold. I squeezed my eyes shut one last time. I could feel my body begin to shut down.

My attacker sensed this and turned me around to face him, his hands slightly relaxing around my neck. I forced my eyes open to get one last look at my killer. What I saw shattered my heart, my soul… everything.

Ron Weasley stood above me, his hands crushing the life out of me as he pressed harder on my throat. My own husband was killing me.

My eyes filled to the brim with hot tears as I looked into his crystal blue eyes. His eyes were not the way they usually were. Ron's eyes were usually so full of happiness and life, a twinkle in them at all times. These eyes. They were filled with absolute hatred, disgust and murder. With the remaining energy I had, I lifted my arm off the ground and grazed his cheek with my cooling fingertips.

I took a heaving breath, willing myself to say the words that lingered on my tongue. "I- love y-you."

Ron's eyes suddenly shifted to my pocket. The pocket that contained the photograph. He looked back at me, hatred still lingering in his eyes. I felt the weight of his hands lift from my throat. I sat up, sputtering and coughing, desperately trying to regain the air my lungs desperately craved. I put a hand to my chest as if it would help me breathe. Inhale, Exhale, Inhale, Exhale. My head pounded with the overwhelming pounding of my heart.

I was alive.

I snapped my head up, ready to defend myself from Ron, but the minute I lifted my head, I noticed… he was gone. Vanished.

I slowly stood to my feet, my body screaming at me in protest. I was still a bit dizzy and disoriented, but I could see everything around me. I turned my head to the left, cautiously awaiting an attack. I turned to the right, nothing came at me.

"Ron?" No answer. "Ron!" No answer. I was alone.

No. I wasn't hallucinating! I was just strangled to the brink of death by my own husband. I don't think my mind would mess with me that way. Shaking, I bent over to pick up my dagger and my bag, both dropped onto the floor during my struggle.

I felt like I was going to throw up, a cold sweat forming on my hairline. Why would Ron do something like that? Wait. How did he even get in here? No. That wasn't Ron. Ron would never hurt me! Ron would never hurt anyone, unless it was to protect me. My mind begged me to see reason, but my heart was broken far beyond reason

I was still shaken from my attack as I began to cautiously trudge further into the forest. I decided not to let that attack bother me. I needed to keep myself alert and dwelling on it would probably put me in danger.

With my bag hitched onto my shoulder and my knife in front of me, I set my eyes ahead about 400 feet, seeing nothing but trees. It felt like only an hour had passed since I woke up, but that wasn't the case. I was placed in the arena early this morning, and the sun was already setting. The first day of the worst time of my life was coming to a close.

My neck was extremely sore. It felt like when you go running in the cold. That weird, aching feeling in the very end of your throat. It was that feeling, only about four times worse. It was a pain that could be ignored, a pain that could be tolerated easily. Suddenly that pain escalated to a stinging feeling, as if the inside of my throat was being electrocuted. I began to cough dryly, my heartbeat increasing in speed. I let out a small scream and slowly dropped to my knees, my hands on my neck. My throat felt as if it was on fire, burning mercilessly as I began to grow weaker.

I lied down on the cold grass, clawing onto the small blades in absolute agony. Tears poured from my eyes as I began to shake violently like one would during a seizure. The pain increased dramatically. I began to shake harder and sweat a freezing cold sweat. With sweating hands, I squeezed the blades of grass in my fists, desperately holding on for dear life.

I began to cough violently, blood erupting from my throat and splattering all over the lush, green grass. A morbid thought entered my mind as I thought about how similar the blood looked to James' finger painting. The finger painting that I had helped him with. He covered his hands in dark red paint and splattered it all over the piece of paper in front of him.

Despite the amount of pain I was in, I smiled slightly at the memory. He held his artwork up and looked at it admiringly. "Look, look what I did!" He smiled that devilish smile at me, as he held up his art.

That image burned into my memory as blood continued to erupt from my shaking body. My breathing came out in loud groans and desperate gasps, my body begging for anything to stop the pain. I hoped to God that James wasn't watching this. No, Harry's a good father. He wouldn't let him see this.

The pain began to subside to a small burn as my vision began to cloud with black dots. I continued to shake and groan, blood still erupt in a steady stream. No. I thought to myself. My vision was almost completely gone. You will NOT die. Not now. I refused to give up. Refused to give in to the taunting sereneness of the black dots that clouded my vision.

I let out a loud, rough scream as a wave of agonizing pain washed over my entire being. I pushed upward on my arms, arching my back in a state of agony that I had never known. I let out another scream as an overwhelming amount of blinding pain spread like fire through my entire system. My arms gave out from under me and I dropped harshly on my stomach.

That's when the entire world went black.

I need suggestions. Should the next chapter be in Ron's POV, the family reacting to this happening? Or should it continue to be in Hermione's POV? Thanks!