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Post by Lacey on Nov 27, 2010 14:25:32 GMT -5
Chapter One
first person POV
Breathing shallowly, I sat in the snow stained in my own blood. The white substance had turned red as the scarlet liquid that once coursed through my veins soaked it right through. My mudblood, the reason that I was in this whole brouhaha. Actually, no. It wasn't my fault, and I'm not just saying that because I don't want to man - or woman - up to my faults and muck ups. It was He Who Shall Not Be Named's fault. He was the one who wanted my blood kind dead, he who started this war. It was he who threw the whole world off of balence. It was all because of him, and I wished him the most painful death anyone could ever face.
Not bothering to get up, I leaned against the nearest object, which happened to be a tree. The back was rough against my back, but I was so numb with cold and pain it didn't bother me anymore. I had too many things to think about, like if more death eaters would come after me or when my brother would show his hide. Where are you, Brendon? I thought in my mind, letting a few tears drip. What if they had gotten him? What if I would never be able to see my brother again? What if it was my fault for sending him out for that potion? Atleast I told him I loved him and to be safe before he departed. that would keep me sane for the time that I waited, or the time that I had before I died. They were good last words.
I glanced at the bodies laying around me. They were my assailants, those that I had killed off. One of them began to twitch, an outstretched hand reaching out for it's wand. "Incendio." I hissed hoarsly, watching as a flame ignited and the air began to smell of sulfer and ash. Raw flesh burning on an open fire, Merry Chrismas. He let out a bloodcurdling scream, and I didn't give a darn. I was fed up with this. He deserved to die, was asking for it in the first place when he thought to mess with me and my kind. He thought my kind was bad, but what about his kind? His kind killed my freaking parents and my sister. I've felt my pain, he should feel his.
I cringed and groaned as I got up, yanking on the tree multiple times for support. That caused more cuts to appear on my hands and more tears to fill my eyes. I could do it, I know I could. I just needed to get closer to the fire, feel the warmth near me. Maybe it would start up something inside of me, make me feel hope or something cheesy like that. Maybe it would make me feel alive. People who inflicted themselves with cuts to make them "feel alive" were wrong. I was coated in blood, every part of my body burning and stinging, and I felt the complete opposite.
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Post by Lacey on Nov 27, 2010 17:51:13 GMT -5
Chapter Two
second person POV
"Hermione, we passed a bunch of good campsites. Could you please just pick one?" Ron whined for the millionth time through the trek. They had barely walked anything, but he was just complaining for the sake of complaining. Hermione and Harry were getting quite fed up with his constant commentary on everything. It was like a little kid riding in the back seat of the family car, asking if you were there yet every five seconds when you're taking a road trip. Silence was golden, and duct tape was silver. Hermione was about to use some on him if he didn't shut his trap. She was mad now, but deep down she still had a fancy for the red-headed wizard.
"Ron, stop it. We need to find a better one." She retorted, stopping for a moment to give him the look before walking on towards their soon to be place of rest. He began to whine her name again, and before he could even say the whole thing she cut him off. 'Would you just stop being a flobberworm and keep moving?"
Harry chuckled at her use of vocabulary. Flobber worm. That was almost as hilarious as the whole blast-ended screwt thing. Unlike Harry, Ron didn't find it as funny. He sighed, hung his head, but a couple seconds later found something else to bug her about. "Hey Hermione?"
"What?" She said, getting fed up with the
"Can I do the enchantments when we get there?" He asked innocently, giving her his best pair of puppy-dog eyes.
"Fine," She said, finally breaking and agreeing so he would stop. Everyone was so stressed and irritable.
Hearing an explosion, a scream, and then a struggle of some sort, Harry snapped out of his daze. He always seemed so spaced out. He was thinking about all of his family and friends, how life was for them and how it was underground. Were they safe? Alive? He hadn't heard anything on the radio about anybody he knew, Ron played it 24/7 and it annoyed the bloody heck out of him. Thank goodnesss he didn't have another death to mourn. He had so many already, his heart being ground up into little tiny pieces from the start of his journey. There was Mad Eye, George got a curse to the ear, and Hegewick. There was one that especially killed him on the inside...
Ginny. Ginny was Harry's heart at one point, and she was killed a long time ago before this had happened. Before the whole war started. He just couldn't take it, he was in the grieving process for months until this time. He had gotten it over that, or atleast he kept telling himself to stop and move on, but a piece of her still stuck to him. Harry couldn't let it go, he wouldn't. Neither would anyone who had gotten their heart touched by that sweet Hermione was having a terrible time also, but she was begining to cope also. She healed the fastest, her resilient nature showing. The one who had the hardest time was Ron. She was his baby sister, the one he said he hated but loved deep down. He hadn't loved her that much until she died, realizing that she was one of the best siblings he had ever had. Of course he wouldn't say that, or atleast not when Fred and George were around.
"Guys, I'm going off the trail for a second... I'll meet you a little down the path..." He said, trailing off --- heh heh, pun --- and going towards where he heard it. Hermione was about to rebut, but stopped because he was already going on his way. He tried to use his instincts and use them wisely. Drawing his wand, he didn't want to get into a fracass. He was curious, not stupid. He wanted to know what was going on but not risk his safety and the others who were waiting for him.
Entering the war zone, he saw two dead bodies. One was laying on the far left hand side of the small clearing, the other was burning in a huge bonfire of some sort. Past the wreck, he saw a frail body trying to get up. She just wasn't able to do it. She looked like a mess, just like her surroundings. Tear and blood-stained. He felt bad for her, terrible even. She didn't even seem to notice he was there, too busy trying to not die. He couldn't see her face. He didn't know if it was a trap or not, but he wasn't cruel. He was going to help whether it was good for him or not, if it would kill him or not.
He approached her, ran to her more like, and grabbed her arm that wasn't spliced. It was just like how Ron's arm looked when he apperated and something had gone wrong. He was surprised that she had enough energy to even move after all of that she had gone through. The girl must've been a tough cookie.
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