Y/N's POV
"ARE you really giving us permission to do this?" I ask Professor McGonagall as we descend the front steps of the school, followed by Neville, Dean, Seamus, Flitwick and Mrs. Weasley.
"Yes, y/l/n."
"Blow it up? Boom?" Neville asks.
"BOOM!" McGonagall confirms. "Why don't you confer with Mr. Finnigan? As I recall, he has a particular proclivity for pyrotechnics."
"I can bring it down!" Seamus announces.
"That's the spirit, now away you go."
Then the four of us are on our way.
In less than an hour, the four of us have the wooden bridge hooked up with various things to blow it up at a moments notice to prevent the army of Death Eaters from getting to the school. For now, the protective measures placed by the Professors around the school, which we can easily see when a Snatcher is pushed over the barrier to test it, and he crumbles into nothing but dust.
"Ya, you and whose army?" Neville shouts at the large group that's gathered. Not even a few seconds after he says it, the hour Voldemort allotted us is up and somehow the defensive barrier comes down. The Snatches take tentative steps at first, but then once they realise that it's safe, the group charges full speed ahead. Neville stands completely still for a second but then snaps out of it and turns around, starting to run as fast he can as he casts a spell over his shoulder to blow up the bridge.
He runs and runs but drops, just before he can make it to safety. I gasp out loud, fear taking over my body at the possibility of losing my best friend but then his hand reaches over the edge, pulling himself up tp safety. The battle has begun.
*****
THE battle is in full swing and the next few hours pass by in a blur of action and adrenaline as we fight against the invading Death Eaters and Snatchers. So when the forces retreat it comes as a relief until the cold snake-like voice breaks through the corridors once again, as I walk through the Great Hall, taking in the sight of the injured and the dead. Tears coming to my eyes at the sight of them all. My own body is covered in dirt, ash and dried blood, but at least I'm alive.
Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin Creevey, Lavendar. All dead. And so many others injured.
"You have fought valiantly, but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonour. Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me."
The cold voice finishes giving its message, letting an eerie silence fall over the school and battlefield.
*****
NEVILLE and I have been pulling dead bodies from the wreckage lining the school corridors for the past hour and the emotions I feel are overwhelming. All these innocent people dead or near death, and for what? Pureblood supremacy? It's ridiculous. I need air.
"I need to get some air, Neville. You want to come with me?" I ask and he nods, limping after me outside. We climb over fallen stone, rubble, dust and ash until we're standing in the center of the courtyard. I take in a deep breath, trying to ease my growing nerves. I watch as Neville picks up the ragged and dusty covered sorting hat, swatting at it in an attempt to clean as I try not to let my worry-filled thoughts overcome me. All my worries are about Harry. I haven't seen him since our kiss on the staircase, and I can only hope that it's because he's busy still hunting down whatever it is he needs instead of sacrificing himself in the forest.
But with the sound of a large group of people's advancing footsteps. I take a few steps forward so I'm standing next to Neville.
"Neville? Who's Hagrid carrying? Neville? Who is it?" I ask frantically, panic bubbling more and more inside me with each passing second. The large group continues to advance towards us, led by Voldemort himself, with Hagrid bound in chains, walking beside him, carrying a limp body.
"Harry Potter is dead!" Voldemort's cold, snake-like voice announces.
My worst fear is coming true. My heart stops and my breath catches in my throat briefly before I let out a loud gasp. "No!" I scream, pulling my wand out of my pocket and ready to charge forwards but before I can, strong arms wrap around me holding me back. Cormac.
"No!" I scream again but Cormac keeps a tight grip around my waist, holding me against his strong chest.
"Silence! Stupid girl." Voldemort says with a flick of his wand. "Harry Potter is dead, from this day forth...you put your faith in me. Harry Potter is dead!"
Bellatrix mounts onto a pile of rubble, dancing around as she lets out a laugh that sounds more like a cackle.
"And now is the time to declare yourself. Come forward and join us...or die." Voldemort says but no one moves.
We're all too stunned, having to force ourselves to remember to breathe. The Chosen One. The Boy Who Lived. Is dead. I turn my head into Cormac's arms to hide my tears, as he runs a caring hand down my hair soothingly. I zone out not paying attention to Draco's parents calling him over to their side.
I keep my head turned into Cormac's chest, silently crying into his shoulder until I hear more footsteps advancing from our side to theirs and a familiar voice starts to speak.
"I'd like to say something..." the familiar voice announces. Neville. My head snaps to attention.
YOU ARE READING
The Chosen One | Harry Potter
Fanfiction• Harry X Reader • Y/N has a crush on the boy who lived, but who wouldn't? He's a brave Gryffindor with the looks to match. But after the events of the graveyard at the end of fourth year, a lot of people have been doubting his story and now in fi...
