The Storm | The Sister book #3 | A Harry Potter Fanfiction

chapter forty-one

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The breeze rushes through me as a high pitched cackle fills the air. My eyes flicker to the top of the stairs where Bellatrix Lestrange stands with a crowd of Death Eaters behind her. I recognise some of their faces from the wanted ads, though I can't remember their names. She smirks when she sees me, raising an eyebrow and walking over to Draco as the rest of the Death Eater's crowd the platform.

My chest aches as my heart races, and I inch backwards. Dumbledore stands behind me to my left slightly, and the cold, stormy wind gusts through the archway that gives way to nothing behind me, chilling me to the bone. I blink away my tears. I will not die crying.

Bellatrix walks around behind Draco, kissing him on the cheek and eyeing me.

"Well done Draco," She murmurs, "How on earth did you manage to get the spare all the way up here?"

Draco clears his throat, trying to find an answer but I cut him off, "I won't let you kill him." I stutter, and Bellatrix giggles. Her expression then changes and she looks at Draco impatiently,

"Do it!" She screeches, and Draco falters slightly, his knuckles going white as he clings to his wand.

Another Death Eater looks at Draco with distaste, flexing his jaw, "He doesn't have the stomach, just like his father."

My eyes briefly meet Draco's, and he has to look away. He can't do this. He can't bring himself to kill me. Bellatrix sighs,

"Oh well," She fiddles with her wand, walking over beside Draco and smiling at me, "The Dark Lord said nothing about who get's to kill the spare, and I've always wanted to kill a Potter."

My breath gets caught in my throat as she utters my name, and I attempt to swallow, but find my throat dry. She raises her wand. I stumble backwards slightly, before regaining my balance. She chuckles at me. Draco's eyes flutter between her and me. She begins to say the killing curse.

But he cuts her off.

Draco pushes her aside, raising his wand and yelling "Stupify!"

The ground drops away from below me.

A single breath seems caught in my lungs as the tower disappears from view.

I feel myself falling.

For a moment the world is equally peaceful and chaotic, all I can hear is rushing air screaming in my ears but there is nothing.

I am Clara Potter.

I am the girl who lived.

That was my fight.

And as I hit the ground I realise,

I have lost.

xxx

Draco's POV

My feet carry me across the courtyard and I can almost feel the sky change as Bellatrix summons the dark mark, but I cannot force my eyes upwards. All I can see is her.

Her.

She lies silent against the cobblestone. From where I stand, she looks as though she could be alive. Perhaps cloud gazing. Perhaps asleep.

As I grow closer, I see how her eyes are only slightly open, how her hair lies in a mess around her pale face. Her tiny frame seems so wrong. So morphed.

I expect her to wake up, to open her eyes fully and smile at me. To tease me about my hair.

But she doesn't. And she won't.

I know her body probably better than any other person alive. I know every mountain and every dimple. I know where she is most ticklish. Where she gets coldest. How perfectly her body fits with mine. I see how her chest doesn't rise or fall. How her eyes stay completely still. So precious, like porcelain. And though she'd hate to admit it, so very fragile.

I kneel down beside her, overwhelmed with a weight that crushes me slowly as I stare at her little face. I see blood seeping from somewhere on her scalp and onto the stone.

Where is her fire? Her anger? Her cheeky grin? Her dimples?

Please just wake up. Please just smile at me. Please let me go back to when everything was okay and you weren't here. You weren't-

No.

I wish she would wake up and smile at me for five goddamn seconds.

She doesn't stir.

I reach back into my blazer pocket and pull out a small family heirloom mother wanted me to give her as an apology for what I had to do. The ring was my grandmothers and hangs on a silver chain.

I place it slowly into the palm of her hand.

I lean over, feeling an agony I can't possibly describe, and I stay silent, tears making their way down my face wordlessly. I stare at her perfect face for a moment and then kiss her.

Her lips are cold and remain still against mine.

I sit up, blinking as tears flood my eyes. I stand, looking back at her one final time.

She's gone.

"I love you," I croak.

She doesn't hear me.