harry potter x fem reader
The pain surged through her as the spells from two wands traveled into her chest. It was the only ending. Seventeen million endings and only one ended in them the defeat of the dark lord. It was the only way. She had to die...
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◇*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･◇･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*◇
[third person pov]
Plunge.
A feeling and sound y/n would never forget. Waves of searing pain flooded her torso as her and Harry slammed into the ground. The smell of grass and iron wafted into the teens nostrils. They had closed their eyes during the transportation but y/n couldn't keep them closed now. She pried her eyes open and her breath hitched.
"Avery" etched into the blade that ripped through her skin. She tried to speak, but only pained groans left her mouth.
Harry wanted to keep his eyes closed now. He did not move. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of him; his head was swimming so badly he felt as though the ground beneath him were swaying like the deck of a ship. To hold himself steady, he tightened his hold on the few things he was still clutching: the smooth, cold handle of the Triwizard Cup, and y/n and Cedric's body. Something was off though. As he grabbed y/n something covered his hand. It was trickling over his fingers. He could tell by the fluidity, it wasn't sweat.
Although he would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of his brain if he let go of either of them. And as shock and exhaustion kept him on the ground, he opened his eyes. Just enough to see y/n's face losing color like cedrics had.
Y/n managed to croak out one word. "Knife." Harry looked down and saw what she a moment ago, Avery's name etched in a blade that was sticking from her mid-abdomen. Neither harry or y/n couldn't move. It was like something triggered their body's to go into a state of rigidness. They breathed in the smell of the grass and blood, waiting. . . waiting for someone to do something. . . something to happen. . . and all while people were cheering; y/n was on the brink of consciousness, and their scars burned dully on his forehead and her neck. . . .
