Written for QLFC Season 11 Semi-Finals, Beater 1/Captain

Main Prompt: Old Enough to Die by the Ministry of Magic

Optional Prompts: 1. [object] broomstick, 3 [dialogue] "Can you please just… go?" - "Why would I do that?" - "I don't want you here right now.", and 9 [emotion] love (platonic or romantic

Word Count: 1146

Warnings: Death of a pet (murder really)

~wWw~

"Harry, please don't do this to us," Hermione pleaded, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. She reached for his hands, her touch aching with the love she still held for him. But Harry, his eyes burning with a pain she couldn't understand, pulled away, unwilling to allow their skin to touch. Their relationship, once filled with laughter and shared secrets, had been strained for months. The weight of their responsibilities and the constant threat of danger had taken its toll, and now, it seemed, it was breaking them apart.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. We are done," Harry whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of his decision. "You deserve to be with someone who doesn't dance on the edge of death. And that person isn't me." His heart ached with the weight of his words, his mind torn between his love for her and his determination to protect her.

Ignoring the searing pain in his chest, Harry turned away from Hermione, the girl he loved, who had been his best friend since they first met on the Hogwarts Express at age eleven. She was the girl he had dreamed of marrying since he had watched her walk down those stairs in fourth year, her smile lighting up the Great Hall. With each step he took, the pain increased, but he squared his shoulders and left her behind, alone on the swings, his heart shattering with every step.

He couldn't bear to gaze upon her for fear that the sight of her would shatter his resolve. Every moment in her presence was a treasure, illuminating his world with a brilliance he couldn't fathom. The thought of a life without her was a void he couldn't comprehend. Initially, it seemed she would let him depart without adding to their mutual pain, but then he heard the echo of her footsteps, a painful reminder of the bond they shared.

"Can you please just… go?" Harry's voice was a brittle facade, masking the raw agony that threatened to consume him.

"Why would I do that?" Hermione's voice was filled with a mix of confusion and hurt. Her hand reached out to him desperately to make him understand. She was about to say more, but he cut her off, his words a sharp barrier between them.

"I don't want you here right now," Harry declared, wrenching himself from her grasp. His steps quickened, and his back turned resolutely towards her. He was heading back to the Dursleys, a place that could never be called home, but at least it was a sanctuary of sorts—a place of relative peace, far removed from Hermione's memories. The weight of his past and the uncertainty of his future pressed heavily on his shoulders.

He pushed open the door to Four Privet Drive, the place of his upbringing but never his sanctuary. It was a shelter devoid of the warmth and security a home should provide.

~wWw~

It had been a few weeks since Harry had broken up with Hermione, and he was lying on top of his covers, his mind a whirlwind of regret and relief. The weight of his decision was crushing, a constant reminder of the pain he had caused. Yet, he couldn't deny the flicker of relief, knowing that she was no longer in constant danger because of him. The guilt of hurting her, of breaking her heart, was eating him alive.

Harry rolled over, his eyes turning towards the blaring light of his alarm clock. The Durselys had just left, and the order was supposed to arrive within two hours to bring him to the Burrow. A feeling of unease deep within his gut worried him. Hermione–just the thought of her brought a strike of pain through him–had told him about parts of the plan. They wanted to use polyjuice to make several copies of him to hopefully distract the Death Eaters and give him a better chance of escaping. Honestly, Harry thought it was an awful idea. The thought of that many people putting themselves in insurmountable danger just for him was unbearable.

Fully rolling out of bed, Harry pulled himself to his feet. He grabbed a piece of paper and began to write,

I could not live with myself if I allowed this plan of the seven Potters to come to fruition. I can't let you guys sacrifice yourselves for me. You can win this war with or without me. I'm headed to the Burrow. If you don't see me by morning, I'm sorry I've failed.

To Hermione, I'm sorry about everything. I love you.

Harry J. Potter

With that, he carefully folded the paper, leaving it on his pillow. A profound sense of resolution filled him as he carefully shrunk his packed trunk into his pocket and released Hedwing from her cage. He was ready for whatever lay ahead, ready to face the consequences of his decisions.

"It's time to go now, girl, to the Burrow," Harry whispered, scratching her head. She chirped affirmatively at him. With Hedwigs' acceptance, Harry grabbed his broom from the closet, which he had called his bedroom for many years. He didn't bother to take one last look around, knowing that these walls held no good memories he wanted to keep.

He pushed open the door to the house. Wrapping his hands around the well-loved handle of his Firebolt, he kicked off, leaving number Four Privet Drive behind. Everything seemed fine for the first few kilometres. It was like he had missed the wave of Death Eaters the Order had seemingly been preparing for. Regardless of the lack of Death Eaters, Harry kept vigilant, his eyes darting around the open space around him, looking for any sign of a threat. But there was nothing.

The sky was empty, just him and Hedwing, who had insisted on flying beside him. They struck as the sun began to crest below the horizon. Ten Death Eaters on brooms came zooming towards him from every direction. Harry recognized most of them; the sight of Bellatrix, the woman who had killed his godfather, brought a surge of fear through his veins. The once peaceful sky was now a battlefield, filled with the flashes of spells and the echoes of taunts.

"All alone, little Potter," Bellatrix taunted, one hand around her broom and the other on her wand.

"Enough, Bella," Lucius bellowed, "take him alive. Attack!" At that command, the once peaceful sky was filled with light flashes. Spells shot at him from every direction, quickly overwhelming him. After the fight, there was only one he would remember: a flash of green light shot past his ear, hitting Hedwig with a soft thud. He watched in horror as she fell from the sky and out of his sight. Her death only served to reinforce his belief that everyone he loved would be safer if they were far away from him.