HP&SB: The Deathly Hallows

Chapter 15

I did know that, somehow, I was going to have to get Harry out of here, out of the way. He was alive, he was alive– the joy was cramped by the spell around me, the full elation squelched under the mad Lord's thumb, but I clung to the scraps I could feel. Harry was alive– one must die at the hand of the other. He still had a chance at living. He still had a chance.

Perhaps I was meant to cause a distraction, allow him to escape. Perhaps that was what the prophecy had meant all along. Protecting him to the very end– not his end, but mine. I hadn't protected him on the funeral march to where Voldemort had been waiting, hadn't, because I thought that had been where it all ended. But it wasn't.

Neither parts of the prophecy had yet to been fulfilled: it had simply been the beginning of it the end.

I would still die, I realized. Even if I managed to break through the Dark Lord's imperius, I'd go mad from it– Barty Crouch Senior had, I remembered. It was too strong. But if Harry had a chance... That was always the comfort, if I was to die at the hands of my enemy. If I died protecting him, it was worth it. But my enemy...

If I was forced to the fight on the side of my enemy, who would be my enemy then?

The loud wave of noise didn't quite break through my muffled ears, but it did catch my attention– my eyes snapped back up, head straining to see, but the Dark Lord kept my head bent and away. Damn him. Then there was movement– rapid movement, a flare of heat, and suddenly my head was up, and I could see, and I was moving.

Prowling, I thought, could be the better word, the rest of the Dark Lord's army rushing forward around me, trailing towards the fighters that were pouring back into the castle. My ears unplugged, and I could hear screaming, the bangs of giant footsteps to my left and whoops from the lot across the way– reinforcements had arrived! My heart secretly pounded with the thought– we weren't alone, we had fighters appearing still, this wasn't over.

The Dark Lord was furious. My body jolted to a halt, turning to face its master. His red eyes were slits, and not even Bellatrix, simpering and soothing at his side, seemed to be able to help.

Hagrid was gone, I realized. 

And so was Harry. He'd dived into the skirmish, I supposed, though I'd not been able to see. Good. The Dark Lord's wand turned on me, and my lungs squeezed under the weight that fell upon my shoulders, that rocketed through my being.

"Find Potter," he spat, and the order rocked through my being. "Immobilize him, and wait for me. Do not kill him– injure only if you must– but kill anyone else who stands in your way."

He did not wait for me to comply, to acknowledge the order, and with a flick of his wand I was off. It was like walking through a dream– I was both aware and not, eyes searching the crowds. My soul, tucked quietly inside my chest, prayed Harry was wise enough to pull the invisibility cloak about him.

I prayed someone would kill me before I hurt anyone.

Because that was the twist, wasn't it– I was to die at the hands of my enemy.

And currently, against all the odds, against common sense and everything good, my friends were my enemy, and at their hands I would die. Should die– wanted to die.  Someone had to stop me–

"Siri!"

George.

I didn't stop moving, running up the entryway stairs, hair bouncing against my shoulders, eyes forced forwards. I didn't notice when someone hurled into my right side, slammed me into the wall– my broken arm screamed in protest, and I almost shattered both curse and mind to scream right then. George pinned me down, wand pressed into my neck.