The Boy Who Had No Choice

Gone

"Harry Potter," his voice slithered along my skin like mossy stones, "is dead." The opposite side of the courtyard cheered mercilessly at the death of a teen while our people stood in silence. Who were we without the Boy Who Lived? Rebels? Clowns?

He was the face of our campaign, our key to finally achieving peace, my friend. Voldemort was happy to present us with his body. It fell from the sky like a sac of bricks, arms bent out of position and eyes open and mortified.

The sight of his body made me sick.

"Now," he seemed downright pleased with himself, going so far as to clamp his hands together in glee, but there was one thing he didn't account for," who would like the join my army?"

Did he think he could rip this all away so easily? I wiggled free from the masses, tears creating clean tracks down my dirtied cheeks. My shoulders shook in a way that made me look pitiful, but I stood before my people with my fists clenched.

"We would rather die!" There was a roar behind me, a cry composed of those who had not yet lived and those who'd seen Spring many a-times that combined behind me like a melody.

"Not today," a lithe form crashed into me taking me to the ground, but the ground never came. Instead I was pulled into a loop and deposited somewhere far from the fray.

Fighting could be heard from my place in the forest, but my attacker couldn't be seen. Whoever stuck me here had gone the moment I was whole.

Cries of battle echoed about the forest, but I was lost and whatever hole that had been placed in the anti-apparition barrier was patched.

I was stuck outside of a battle I started.

***

One could only run through the forest so quickly. I was within a mile of the castle when a pair of trolls made a mess of the path. They landed directly upon it snarling and clambering towards me. It didn't take too much for the dirt to be kicked up into a storm.

"Stupify! Petrificus Totalus!" The first troll flew backwards while the other hit the ground face first. The earth trembled as I made my way over his frozen form.

My trek continued at a sprint, I'd lost time with those beasts and needed to make it up. I couldn't afford to hit another snag.

Of course that's what happened. My fear for my friends was frozen within me as fear for myself became more apparent. Harpies circled the area above me before falling to earth like vultures. They were biting and tearing at my clothing and face, anything to bring me down.

I searched frantically for my wand, hoping to remember a spell -any spell to rid me of their attack.

"Augamenti!" Water took down one of the harpies, making her wings soggy and limp, "Avis oppungio!" Birds erupted from my wand turning their same hellish attack upon them. Bloody and sore, I continued. My sprint had slowed to a kind of limping crawl.

With the thundering and squawking behind me I crept through the soggy underbrush. I was moments from the battle -so close that I could feel the heat from a runaway spell- when my final trial appeared before me. Parkinson, Nott, and Malfoy stood with their wands to me, dark marks exposed.

I could feel Nott probing my mind. He'd use my knowledge against me. At this thought I caught his smirk. To beat them I'd have to be unpredictable.

"Highly unlikely Granger," Nott smirked wider from behind his guard, "we know all of your tricks."

"Reducto!" The three clambered out of the way of the tumbling branches, "auguamenti!" Pansy fell victim to a water jet, but Malfoy and Nott were still standing.

"Crucio," his pinched drawl came from my left a moment before the pain encompassed me. Electricity fried my every nerve as the bones in my hands and feet seemed to snap.

I felt Nott back out of my mind, his own pain mirroring mine, and then I was free. Tears blurred my vision and my magic seemed to crawl through my wand, but I had to get back to my friends. I'd die out here otherwise.

Gritting my teeth I cast another spell in Nott's direction, swearing as I realized I'd be dueling Malfoy.

"Not smart, Mudblood," he brandished his wand before an onslaught of spells came rushing toward me. Whatever escape or glorified victory I once entertained was gone. He stood over me, pity in his grey eyes before his expression changed and he aimed.

"Now die," his spell was silent and covered the ground in a dense mist.

This was my chance.

"Disappearo," I tapped my wand to my head and hurried along the path.

Wether he let me go or made a mistake, I was free.