Harry Potter is dead. Something happens. Two green lights. A moment. It changes everything. Effie Granger, hot headed and impulsive, makes a great sacrifice in order to save the lives of the people she loves, but that sacrifice might be in vain. Lit...
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Effie felt like she was floating and the ground was a thousand feet below her. She tried to pry her eyes open but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't. She tried moving. It was like her body and her mind were disconnected. She was freezing. It was pressing in on her. It was suffocating. It hurt. It burned. Not in the way fire did. Much worse. The cold was invading her body like snake, raveling around her and refusing to let go of its prey.
A sharp gasp escaped blue lips. Effie now felt cold and wet. She heard the rushing of water right by her. She opened her eyes slowly. Little crystals of ice flecked off her lashes. She saw the cloudy, light blue sky. It was daytime. She let out a groan, forcing herself to roll over. Her body ached terribly. Every bone and muscle was begging for her to rest.
She didn't realize it at first as her hand was fuzzy with numbness, but as her rolled her glove-less hand landed on a snowy shore. She focused hard on moving her hand. It twitched slightly. Her fingers gave in unwillingly after a minute of utter concentration and clutched the snow. Where did the snow come from?
She let her head rest on the frozen ground. She stared at the body of water inched from her. It was small, rocky creak that wasn't bothered by the cold. It flowed smoothly around the rocks, and coursed away. She couldn't move. She couldn't run away from the haunting memories that were slowly coming back to her.
Her breath hitched as she remembered the battle at Hogwarts. The people dying. Harry dying. She had taken the potion as a last resort, to have a second chance. That was in May. If it was snowing, it had to be around December. What happened between then and now? She drew a blank. She couldn't remember. It was like she closed her eyes and suddenly she was here, but she knew that wasn't the case. And she wasn't dreaming. The cold felt too real for that. Something had happened to her. But what?
Maybe it was better she never found out. Maybe it was better she couldn't remember the past few months. Because if the potion hadn't worked, then Harry was still dead and the world was gone. Voldemort had won the war. Her worst fears had come true, no doubt, so maybe it was better she let the cold take her.
