The War of the Unwilling Hearts (Harry Potter fanfic [Viktor Krum])

Blood and Tears

Releasing all my previous concerns I transform and lunge at the nearest enemy. Thankfully, others are smart enough by now to know that I'm not a werewolf on all fours. Slamming into Voldemort's followers with my haunches and hind quarters they go tumbling like marbles, sometimes bouncing. I can't do any real damage like this put I can blindside them, maybe knock them unconscious for other people to actually deal with.

I saw less friends than I had wanted. All the faces I had passed before the pause of our battle seemed to be fewer in the hall. No Fred. Tonks and Lupin were both absent. My heart sank.

Please, not them. A whine escapes my muzzle and a nearby deatheater laughs but it's only his mistake as I sink my teeth into the flesh of his thigh and watch him bleed out.

If my friends have to die then so do you. I think nonapologetically. 

Every time I look to the center of the room there's Voldemort battling with three of the Order. The third time I look far enough left I see Ginny and Bellatrix Lestrange exchanging curses that thankfully never connect with Ginny. Molly steps in, shouting something I can't hear over the blasting and shouting in my ears. Next moment Bellatrix is frozen, slowly sinking to her knees with her mouth wide open. I don't dare disappear now but I can't stay a wolf too much longer so I slip into the professor's lounge and grab a robe, putting it on and tying a strip of torn off cloth tightly around my waist.

There's a loud bang so I only peek my head through a crack in the door. I have to rub my eyes thinking that maybe I'm hallucinating. Again to make sure I haven't messed up my shift back into human form. Both cases reveal the same image. Voldemort circling the cleared space in the center of the hall with Harry. All the others stand around in audience.

Harry taunts him and Voldemort hisses insults back at him. Harry's voice is lower than Voldemort's so I can't quite hear him but whatever it is doesn't go over well. As if anything could go over well with the dark lord. Voldemort raises his wand even further but it looks familiar. Squinting my eyes and standing on tip-toe I can make out the the rough details of the wand, Dumbledore's wand. The wand he was buried with.

"That bastard." I hiss under my breath.

"Avada kedavra" Voldemort hisses and before I can think I'm running out from behind the door. Next thing I know, Voldemort is crumpled on the stone floor.

I stand there, not moving, I can't move. Voldemort is dead. Voldemort is nearly cold on the ground before me. I can feel the emotions well up inside of me. My mom and dad were gone but because of Harry I still had Pare, my grandparents, Viktor would be waiting for me, and my brothers and sister were all waiting for me to get back. The wizarding world would start anew. Start fresh and our next generation wouldn't have to worry so much about our healing wound.

I walk numbly up to Harry.

"He's dead?" I point at the body.

"No doubt this time." Harry nods. Ministry officials start to appear out of nowhere and take the deatheaters away while more students left and the Weasleys gathered, Harry and Hermione among them, and wept. They had fallen - Fred, Lupin, Tonks - laid out on the cold stone floor of the great hall and now that the haze of chaos has dissipated I see that several others are also not present. Some of them faceless because of werewolves, unrecognisable because of curses.

There's no one here for me. I think selfishly and go around making sure I can help anyone that needs it. I heal three broken ribs, deep cuts, a concussion but I can't heal the emotional pain of some of these people, I can't heal death.

Harry and Hermione come to kneel by me as a repair one students hand, broken by a blasting curse.

"Thank you for coming." Hermione says softly.