Author's note:
I know my chapters aren't long. Sorry:) This is my very first story that actually has chapters, so I don't mean for them to be short, but bear with me. I'll try to make longer chapters in future stories.
Also, the story is third person limited omniscient which means we can see into Harry's head, and know what he's thinking, and no one else. Didn't mean to confuse anyone, but the rest is pretty straightforward as with who is talking. The story is pretty much being told through Harry, and it may not seem like it in the first couple chapters, but it will definitely end through Harry's eyes.
I hope everything is clarified. Enjoy.
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Hermione waits in the Great Hall for Ron to arrive with his baggage. The sun already set, and the wind beats against the windows, roaring powerfully. She holds her arms, taking one last look around before they leave. The doors open, and Ron comes in with his three bags. He walks toward her, and drops them, looking her in the eye.
"We can't leave him here." Ron says, staring into her hazel orbs intensly. She feels uncomfortable under his gaze, but does not break it.
"We can't stay, either. He won't let us." She counters.
"I'm not leaving." Ron crosses his arms stubbornly, casting his nose in the air. Hermione rolls her eyes at his immaturity.
"Now is not the time to go noble, Ronald, grab your bags and hold onto me so I can apparate us to the Burrow." Hermione had learned the art of apparation earlier that year. Before Dumbledore died he allowed her to take the class for preparation of a dark war.
"I'm not being noble, Hermione. I won't leave him behind."
"He made the decision, Ron, he will force us out. He's stronger than we are, we can't fight him."
"Why are you doing this?" Ron comes close, much too close for Hermione's liking, "You're letting him go. You're not fighting for him--for us! You're just standing back and doing what you're told. What ever happened to you doing what you think is right?" Ron yells, his voice echoeing off the walls. It frightens even him, but the blood in his veins burn. His eyes are wide, and he takes huge gulps of air, "You're going to let him die. He's going to sacrifice himself to kill Voldemort. Don't you realize that's what he's doing? He's taking the high road out, and he'll destroy himself in the process. How can you just let him do that?"
"It's not our decision to make. He's the one that has to make the decisions, Ronald, not us. So don't you dare yell at me for not forcing him to do something he doesn't want to do. You damn well know I don't want to do this either."
"He'll die." Ron breathes, "How can we live if he dies?"
Hermione's own breath hitches in her throat, "Don't say such things." Hermione pauses, looking toward her feet before meeting his gaze once more, "Grab your bags." her voice is small.
"You go. Be the coward that you are. I won't let him die." Ron storms out of the great hall. Hermione's jaw goes slack and she fights the tears threatening to spill. She hastily rubs her cheeks then covers her sore, tired eyes. When she gains her composure, she marches out of the great hall to find Ron.
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"Harry, Mate, open up." Ron taps on the room of requirement door which is locked. Ron presses his ear against the door, but then pulls back when he hears nothing.
"Comeon, I know you're in there. Unlock the door." Ron knocks harder and continually. Eventually his persistancy pays off, and the door unlocks. He pushes it open and sees Harry standing in the center of the empty room, his back to Ron.
"I'm not leaving." Ron says, trying to be confident with the words, but his voice falters and he slumps against the door frame.
Harry turns his head slightly, but utters no words. Ron walks toward him, tilting his head to the side.
"You're not going to do this alone." Ron reaches to him, but Harry turns his head again, and Ron drops his hand.
A strange feeling circles in Ron's belly, and he feels an urge to vomit. He clutches his stomach, and doubles over while still trying to reach Harry's form. He looks up, and Harry becomes blurry, as does the room around him.
"Harry-" is the last word Ron remembers before falling into a dark oblivion.
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"Ron!" Hermione calls. The halls are dark, and she whispers the words to light the tip of her wand. She holds it out, and her path becomes visible. She continues walking the dark corridors, calling Ron's name periodically.
"Ron, where are you?" She listens to her voice bounce off the walls.
"Hermione." It comes from behind her, and when she turns no soul meets her eyes. She continues to walk, only much slower now.
"Harry?" She whispers, and stops when she feels hot breath on her neck. She stiffens, and a cold horror comes over her when her wand falls and the light diminishes. Her entire body is rigid, and she strains to move, to run, to scream.
"Hermione, you should have left when you had the chance." A voice brushes her ear, and she panics. Her throat starts to close, and her eyes roll back into her head. An icy hand grips her wrist tightly, and she fights to stay conscious. She fails, and falls back.
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I don't know what I should be doing. Should I be training while I wait for him to come? I want them beside me. I need them beside me. No. . . no. They're all gone, and I'm here alone. That's the way it is supposed to be. That's the way it was engraved in the prophecy. I'm alone; I've always been alone, though I won't die alone. I'll take the bastard with me who killed my parents. I'll make sure I hear his scream before it's over.
I can't win. I can not win. There's no way I can win.
Harry opens his eyes from where he lay on his bed in the boy's dormitory in the Gryffindor Tower. He searches for his glasses that he placed on his belly, and puts them on. He pushes himself out of the bed, his breath getting caught in his throat.
He covers his ears, for the high pitched screams of demons make his insides bleed. He squeezes his eyes closed, doubling over. The devil's henchmen rake their jagged nails against his flesh, tearing the fabric of his clothing and ripping his skin apart. His hot blood pools on the floor, and he cries in agony. He opens his eyes and sees the towers of the quidditch pitch rise above him rather than seeing the inside of his dormitory.
Three demons dance around him, while a much larger one simply stares. The three demons scream and reach their mangled hands to grab him. Harry tries to run, but they attach themselves to his ankles, pulling him back to the center of the pitch. He yells in frusteration and agony. He kicks at the demon who gnaws on his ankles, its beady eyes a complete black. He pats his jeans for his wand, and finds it in his back pocket. He points it at the bigger demon standing infront of him; the one who opens its jaws to scream.
It is short and red, with slimy skin that hints yellow and orange, though it burns a bright red hue. Its ears are long and pointed, with no slit for hearing. It has a round belly, and small bumps cover the entire beast. Its arms are skinny, but longer then its body. Its hands are huge and flat with long, lanky protruding fingers. Its thick fingernails are razor sharp and grey, with Harry's blood covering their tips.
"Stop," Harry strangles to say.
"Harry Potter." The demon says in a strange tongue, "Be thoughful in your actions. You don't know who will suffer the consequences."
Harry pants heavily, one hand on his knee while the other hand points his wand at the demon. Its tongue sneaks from it's mouth, wrapping itself disgustingly around the entire length of the wand, pulling it from Harry's weak grip.
"You are tired already, Harry Potter?" The demon uses its tongue to propel the wand across the quidditch field. Harry lunges after it, but the three smaller demons latch onto his legs, tearing into his jeans. Harry grunts, kicking his legs erratically. He pulls roughly on their ears, hoping to rip them off, and it causes them to let go with a high pitched squeal. He crawls to where his wand lay, picking it up hastily and speaking a spell to bind the lesser demons. The larger one who spoke to him remains erect, while the other three writhe and struggle against the invisible bonds.
"Harry Potter. I am not the one you seek to destroy." The demon says as if to persuade him. It reaches into the air, and floats upward. Two unconscious bodies fade into existance beside the demon. Their bodies are limp, and their eyes closed. Harry's heart stops when realizes who they are.
"I don't want to destroy them." Harry whispers, reaching his arms toward Hermione and Ron. The bodies drop to the earth with a nasty thump. Harry runs to them, tripping over his feet. He touches their hands, wrenching his own hand back when he feels how cold they are. Tears blur his vision, and he touches Hermione's cheek.
"Let them go." Harry tilts his head upward to see the demon floating above him.
"Kill them." The demon responds with a shrill.
"No!" Harry jumps to his feet, speaking any spell of death that comes to his mind, his wand pointed at the demon. The spells crackle and fail before reaching it.
"What-" Harry looks at his wand, his eyes wide and alert.
"You cannot destroy me." The demon does not move its mouth. Harry looks down at his friends, who are utterly defenseless at his feet. Their eyes flutter open, and a horror shines deep within them.
The three demons become unbound, and they run towards him and the two on the ground. Harry holds his arms out, shielding his friends, but the demon's evade him, and sink their teeth into Hermione's and Ron's flesh. Their screams pierce through heart which he feels being ripped from his chest, and his tears are endless. Harry throws himself at the demons, but he is useless in their attacks.
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