Future Nostalgia / Harry Potter Fanfic

The Future of Hogwarts

Estella was in shock. That was to say the least. How, what, and why thoughts raced through her mind. He knew of her visions, he knew it was him who was going to die and he never said anything. Every lesson and word he'd said to her all year were subtle little hints of his impending demise that he knew of and did nothing to prevent. His desire to spend time together came from the deep-rooted desire to make things right with his family before he was gone.

"Out of here, quickly," said Snape.

He seized Draco by the scruff of the neck and forced him through the door ahead of the rest; greyback and the pair of rough-looking siblings followed, the latter both panting excitedly. As they vanished through the window, Estella realized she could move again. Estella moved as Harry through the Invisibility cloak aside and yelled;

"Petrificus Totalus!"

The Death Eater buckled as though hit in the back with something solid and fell to the ground, rigid as a waxwork, but he barely hit the floor when the two were clambering over him and running down the darkened staircase.

Maybe, just maybe, if she got down there fast enough he wouldn't be gone. She knew that thought was irrational but she couldn't bring herself to care. She didn't want him to be gone without getting the chance to say goodbye to him, to tell him one last time she loved him.

She leapt the last ten steps of the spiral staircase and stopped next to Harry, their wands raised: The dimly lit corridor was full of dust; half the ceiling seemed to have fallen in; a battle was raging before them, but even as she attempted to make out who was fighting whom, she heard the hated voice shout, "It's over, time to go!" and saw Snape disappearing around the corner at the far end of the corridor; he and Malfoy seemed to have forced their way through the fight unscathed. The pair plunged after them, one of the fighters detached themselves from the fray and flew at her: Fenrir Greyback. He was on top of Estella before she could blink: Estella fell backward, with filthy matted hair in her ace, the stench of sweat and blood filling her nose and mouth, hot greedy breath-"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Estella felt Fenrir collapse against her; with a stupendous effort and help from Harry, she pushed the werewolf off and began to rise to her feet as a jet of green light came flying toward them; they dicked and ran, headfirst, into the fight. Her feet met something squashy and slippery on the floor and she stumbled into Harry's back: There were two bodies lying there, lying facedown in a pool of blood, but there was no time to investigate. Estella saw red hair flying like flames in front of them: Ginny was locked in combat with Amycus, who was throwing hex at her while she dodged them: Amycus was giggling, enjoying the sport: "Crucio-Crucio-you can't dance forever, pretty-"

"Impedimenta!" yelled a familiar voice that emerged from behind them. Luna's pale blonde hair whipped through the air as she rushed toward Ginny.

Her jinx hit Amycus in the chest: He gave a piglike squeal of pain, was lifted off his feet and slammed into the opposite wall, slid down it, and fell out of sight behind Ron, Professor McGonagall, and Lupin, each of whom was battling a separate Death Eater. Beyond them, Estella saw Tonks fighting an enormous blond wizard who was sending curses flying in all directions, so that they ricocheted off the walls around them, cracking stone, shattering the nearest window-

"Estella! Harry! Where did you come from?" Ginny cried, but there was no time to answer her. Harry's hand took hers and they sprinted forward, narrowly avoiding a blast that erupted over their heads, showering them all in bits of wall. Snape couldn't escape.

"Take that!" shouted Professor McGonagall, and Estella glimpsed the female Death Eater, Alecto, sprinting away down the corridor with her arms over her head, her brother right behind him. Harry launched himself after them but his foot caught on something, and the next moment he had brought them both down, lying across someone's legs. Looking around, she saw Neville's pale, round face flat against the floor.