Kallista Zenia Emrys is born in the world of high society pure bloods. Being one of the last remaining descendants of Merlin- the Greatest Wizard of all time- she finds herself being weighed down by the extremely high expectations that her name give...
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To everyone's surprise, Voldemort fell back into the ground as did Harry Potter's lifeless body. Marcus Flint was quick to offer a hand to the snake like man but his eyes were bright from repressed laughter. The all powerful Dark Lord toppling over himself was quite a sight.
Potter, however, unlike Voldemort was unmoving and corpse like.
The Dark Lord pointed to Narcissa Malfoy and we all stiffen. "You! Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."
It was like everyone in the forest held their breath as Narcissa Malfoy bend forward to check for Potter's pulse. Normally when you get hit by an Avada, you tend to stay dead. With Harry Potter though, you could never be too sure.
She turned back and I knew instantly Harry Potter is alive and breathing.
"He is dead!" Narcissa shouts back to the crowd and we all force cheers despite sharing questioning looks.
We rally back to the Castle in false celebration casting fireworks in the sky. Draco immediately came to my side. Finally, after months of stress and worry Draco was able to truly smile.
So close now.
He knew as well as I, that Harry Potter was alive but what he was truly happy about was that our plan was close to it's ending. Draco presses a quick kiss to my cheek and takes my hand. We walk out of the Forbidden Forest as if we were having a mid afternoon stroll in the garden.
Not at all like we've just been to war.
I dare not comfort Hagrid who was blubbering and sobbing with tears falling down on poor pretend corpse Potter. I definitely wanted to comfort the poor thing but to Voldemort we were still his loyal servants.
We walk to the gates of Hogwarts and I couldn't stop myself from frowning at our once magnificent castle. It was in flames and crumbling down.
"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as well every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before him, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."
The horrible whisper of the Dark Lord's voice echoed through the halls. It was chilling despite the thick coat I had on. Patiently, we wait until one by one, the Hogwarts defenders come out to the courtyard.
I watch the horror in the defenders faces and the distraught in their eyes. The tears streaming down their cheeks. I realized in that moment that I was nothing like Voldemort. For awhile, after all the killing I've done, I was starting to worry that I lost myself and that I enjoyed the despair. However, watching the terrified look in the defenders faces, it dawned upon me that I did not feel joy or pleasure in seeing someone else's pain. In Quidditch- maybe - but not like this.
