the girl with all of the choices

e i g h t y - t w o

4975 words

june thirtieth- aftermath

~ Addison ~

I had never seen someone die before. Draco almost died in my arms, but that was different. He never was actually dead. I had known people who had died, but I had never seen it happen. I had never watched the light leave their eyes.

I didn't expect it to be so fast.

Sudden.

Brief.

Words that nobody would use to describe life.

Life is long. Or at least it is supposed to be.

The body of our beloved Headmaster seemed to fall through the air as if his surroundings were molasses.

And everything was frozen. I was frozen. His body was frozen, stilled as it fell from the landing. Everyone up there with him appearing to be frozen as well.

I was sure Draco was frozen in shock. I was, it only made sense for him to be too.

My paralysation lifted when I heard a shriek and the clambering of footsteps, watching as a bright light flew from the Tower up into the sky, illuminating it with the symbol of Him.

Voldemort.

The noises continued, footsteps seeming to race down the stairs into the corridor. I moved. Their steps were getting further away, so I dared to look around the corner of the stairwell I was hiding in.

All I saw was black. The hall was dimly lit, not helping the situation. Black robes. Black hair.

Except for the blond locks of my Slytherin. So striking against the darkness of those around him.

Snape was at the head of their entourage, Draco following directly behind him, albeit at a respectful distance. There were two Death Eaters I didn't recognize flanked at his sides, but behind them were Fenrir Greyback and Bellatrix. I recognized the werewolf from his mugshots. They were posted all over, as the Aurors were eager to catch him.

But my eyes kept wandering back to Draco as they continued off down the hall, in the same direction that they had originally come from. His shoulders were slouched, his head jutting forward, and his hand not holding his wand was playing with the hem of his jacket, the one he was wearing being identical to the one he had placed on my shoulders only a mere five minutes ago.

I wanted to run out from the stairwell and go after him, to connect our palms and let him know he wasn't alone. But I couldn't. If I did, I would be cementing my future in a casket, without him. I had promised him I would stay safe, so I had to stay put.

The image I had created in my head upon learning of his task, the one of the small blond boy holding his wand up to our Headmaster, was coming into fruition right there in that corridor. The further they walked, the more he shrank, receding in on himself as an apparent defence mechanism.

When they turned the corner, I had no idea where they were going, but I didn't care. Because, for a split second, I saw his face. His perfect face, with his lustrous grey eyes and his plump pink lips, his furrowed brow and his flushed cheeks. Seeing his face meant seeing his pure terror.

That broke me.

Then they were gone, disappeared around the corner, off to God knows where.

I was free to unravel, to break. And Merlin, did I.

My breaths came fast and shallow, my tears falling without repent, not hesitating to glaze my cheeks with their wetness. My knees began to buckle and I had to lean myself against the wall of the staircase in order to stay standing.