Living Death

- chapter forty three

tw : the battle of hogwarts from now on (themes of violence, death, blood) i will not tw each chapter so this is a warning for the rest of fic

The sight before you made you tremble with fear, the castle you knew and love was aflame and crumbling, windows shattered, people running for their lives but beneath the terror, you could see a determination, a hope amongst the chaos.

Some Slytherin students had actually stayed behind to fight on Harry's side despite the fact most had joined Voldemort's, Aberforth Dumbledore was producing a powerful Patronus, deterring a large cloud of Dementors and it appeared that even some magical creatures had lent their hand to help.

It almost brought an optimistic smile to your lips but you remembered that Deatheaters alone outnumbered The Order 20:1.

Before you could dwell on such worries, you spotted a denim jacket between the disorder, a magenta hoodie peeking out from under its collar but the wearer disappeared into the castle long before you could meet her eyes.

Hermione.

You had to work out what she was doing. You stayed close to the castle walls and entered Hogwarts through the main entrance after her, spotting Ron slightly ahead of her, ducking between the chaos and your wand clutched in your shaking fist as you kept an eye on that magenta hoodie running ahead of you deeper into the castle, trying not to lose them amongst the duelling witches and wizards.

You ran into Fred with a sudden thud and he grabbed your arms, shaking you vigorously and with a desperation to his voice as he looked down at you, his eyes searching yours for an answer to what he hadn't even asked yet.

"George? Have you seen George?" He panted, distress to his tone.

You furrowed your brows and slightly shook your head, trying to picture if you'd run into his brother at all since the start of the battle, or if you'd seen him just now in the cluster of combat in the courtyard.

Your thoughts were suddenly cut short as your eyes suddenly trained on movement behind Fred's shoulder, a taller Deatheater approaching him. You could see him slinking closer, an evil grin spreading across his face, his wand withdrawn by his side. You needed to act fast.

"Fred. You trust me don't you?" You rushed out suddenly, keeping your eyes on the approaching Deatheater with intense concentration, hoping he'd see you were there and hunt another prey.

"What?" Fred looked taken aback by your odd question.

"Fuck! I said you trust me right!?" You gritted your teeth and spoke with urgency, The Deatheater was getting closer, you recognized him now he was closer, Amycus Carrow. He wasn't backing down.

"Yes!?" Fred's face contoured with slight confusion, tilting his head "Why?"

You suddenly grabbed his red hair in your fist firmly and forced your wand to his temple, holding him in a headlock as he squirmed around in genuine fear but soon caught sight of the approaching Deatheater as you turned, realising what you were doing.

"Blood traitor!" You cried with as much anger as you could muster, pushing your wand further into Fred's temple as he let out a short grunt in discomfort, acting as though you'd overpowered him and taken him hostage.

Amycus stared at you with slight suspicion, as if waiting for you to act on your threats but was soon distracted by a hex shooting past his head from another angle, turning to duel with the perpetrator, giving you enough time to pull Fred safely away down the adjacent corridor.

You both collapsed in defeat behind a stone statue, hitting your head a little as you landed. Wincing in pain, you lifted yourself off the stone-cold floor and sat up, your chest rising and falling as you caught your breath, resting your hand over your heart as your pulse still raced from your encounter.