Forever and Always Yours, SS [Book 3]

Chapter 130

Amilia stood among the rubble with the rest of the crowd, waiting for Voldemort's forces to take their final steps across the crumbling bridge. Minerva had to rip her away from Severus. He will be expecting you! You have not gone to him! Do not give that bastard the satisfaction of knowing he has hurt you! 

She was right, of course, but Amilia still felt the urge to flee back to the common room, to be there when he woke, if he woke. Poppy was unsure if he would wake like he should or if he had slipped into a coma. He had lost quite a bit of blood, but the anit-venom had allowed the wounds to start clotting, and his heart rate slowed just enough to keep him from bleeding out entirely.

Amilia gritted her teeth as she watched the mass of black-clad figures approach the main courtyard. Her fingers gingerly caressed the handle of her wand; she wanted to plow through the crowd, to end all of this madness, but she couldn't. Voldemort would strike her down before she even made it through the masses.

He must think that Severus is dead. He attempted to kill him for a reason. Amilia shifted her weight, would standing on this side of the courtyard give away that her husband was alive, or would it just mark her and lead to her death? Is it even possible that Voldemort would even care what she did? She still believed that he only forced her return so Severus could prove his loyalty and show that he still held power over anyone he wanted. He truly did not care if she was in his service since she was not exactly useful to him the last time around.

Amilia scowled, but then again, she was married to Severus now. She proved that she could have healthy children, something he would want in order to paint the Wizarding World in his visions. To raise children to view him as the most powerful wizard of all time, to keep the blood supremacy. But little did he know that Severus was not a pure-blood. Or did he know? Is that why he tried to kill him!?

She gripped her wand tightly as she squeezed her eyes shut. Not right now. Vengence can be had after we figure out what the bloody fuck is happening.

Amilia looked around; students, staff, Aurors, and villagers stood on whatever flat-ish surfaces they could find. Ron held Hermione in his arms, Neville limped forward, and Draco stood out of arms reach of herself. Poppy hovered in the back, and Minerva took a stance near the front, her chest heaving with adrenaline even though Amilia could see she was fiddling with her sleeves.

All eyes were trained on the bridge as a large lumbering figure came through the black mass. Everyone could see he was cradling something to his chest from where they stood.

"What is that? Who is Hagrid carrying?" Ginny Weasley stepped off her slab of the wall, her father following her, trying to bring her back to safety.

Voldemort stepped around from behind Hagrid, a malicious grin on his face, Nagini at his feet. "Harry Potter is dead!"

Ginny wailed as she dropped to her knees.

"Nooo!" Minerva screamed.

Amilia tore her eyes away from the body in Hagrid's arms to look at the witch. Amilia could see it was taking everything that woman had not to crumple to the ground in a weeping mess. She loved the boy, watched him grow as a wizard, fretted over him constantly, and ensured he was getting enough to eat.

Even Amilia felt gnawing despair and sadness creep into her own heart. 

Voldemort continued, "he tried to run away, to save himself," he scoffed, "to stay alive, while all of you died for him." Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry, and the boy's visible arm lifted in the air and dropped like it was nothing—no life to be detected.

That does not make sense. Amilia scowled.

"The battle is over," Voldemort's voice slithered into everyone's ears, "you have suffered tremendous losses, and my Death Eaters outnumber you. The Boy Who Lived lives no more."