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Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2
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You sit in your living room, staring into the fireplace.
You're home for Christmas break, mentally preparing yourself for whatever orders were to be bestowed upon you once you return to Hogwarts.
"(Y/N)? You here?" your best friend, Theo, calls.
"In here," you call, still unmoving. Theo walks into your sitting room and stands in front of you, forcing your eyes to avert from the fire and to him.
"What's wrong?" You shrug, looking away. He sits beside you and leans forward, his hands clasped. "Talk to me."
"Are we doing the right thing?" you whisper.
"What?"
"Are we doing the right thing? We- things haven't always been great for people like us at Hogwarts, but they're so much better than our own homes. We're helping our parents make others feel how we feel."
"What are you saying? Are you going warn people?"
"I'm not just going to warn people, Theo. I'm going to join them."
Theo stands abruptly and starts pacing.
"That's a death sentence. As soon as your parents find out, they're going to tell You-Know-Who, and you're dead."
"They're not going to find out until they have to face me themselves," you reply calmly.
He drops to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his.
"(Y/N), please. Please, think about what you're doing. I don't agree with any of this either, but we do what we have to do to survive. You need to survive."
"If I have to cause others pain just to survive, I don't think I deserve to, Theo," you reply quietly. His jaw clenches, and you stand slowly. Theo stays on his knees in front of you, and you step around him.
You look back at Theo, his eyes still cast to where you were sitting moments before.
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You knew what you were getting into when you stayed behind to fight the final battle.
You knew you'd see death— possibly even die yourself.
That didn't stop you.
These people are your family.
This place is your home.
And you're very protective of what's yours.
Your heart breaks at the sight in front of you. You know too many people fighting on the wrong side of the war. People you've had dinner with. People you've spent summers at their homes, playing with their kids.
But it doesn't matter to them who you are and, in turn, it doesn't matter to you. Your loyalties have changed and there's no swaying you back. You found where you belong.
Your thoughts stall when your eyes connect with Theo, who's standing next to his father. Even from across the courtyard, you can see the pain in his eyes. You try to look away, but you can't.
This may be the last time you get to look at Theo as equally broken souls instead of enemies.
"I must say I'm very disappointed, (Y/N)," Voldemort muses, tearing your attention from Theo. "You were such a promising soldier." Your classmates' attention turns to you, and you steel yourself.
