Scattered (Book 1)

Harry Potter Is Dead (1)

I luv the art style of this picture <3

Hermione Granger had never felt such heartbreak in her life. Even obliviating her parents, and hiding them off in Australia hadn't been as bad as this. Tears flooded down her face as she stared at Hagrid's sobbing mass, and the small dark haired boy clutched in his arms. Harry had snuck off after the battle, and was dead. She couldn't believe it. She sank to her knees, feeling her own breath hitch with cries of horror.

The swarm of Death Eaters that followed, forcing Hagrid forward through his misery, were cheering, celebrating the death of the Chosen One.

"No..." Hermione heard Ron's soft whisper. He took a few steps forward, breaking away from the mass of those protecting Hogwarts. Hermione couldn't pull her eyes away from Harry's limp body, unable to really focus through her tears.

"Harry! HARRY!" Ginny was screaming, her voice cracking, as a loud clamor rose behind them, the whole of Hogwarts screaming at the death of their hero. Hermione could barely make out the shape of Voldemort right in front of them, and wiped at her face, feeling panic start to rise. She needed to be strong. Unhindered by tears. She could cry later.

She looked up again, hearing Voldemort's voice as he waxed on about his victory, but she couldn't make out the words, her eyes still on Harry. He was moving. He wasn't dead! She gasped involuntarily as he jumped from Hagrid's arms, yanking his wand out of his robe. All eyes seemed to go to him, as he pointed his wand at the giant snake coiled around Voldemort's shoulders. Voldemort turned, lifting his own wand, a half a moment too late.

"Depulso!" Harry shouted, sending the snake flying from Voldemort's body, and to the feet of the cheering crowd of students, and teachers. Hermione grabbed for it, at the same time as three others, pulling the basilisk fang she'd kept, out of her pocket, and stabbing quickly into the head of the snake, before it had a chance to strike anyone. There was a flash of green as the snake seemed to scream, and die, and the bushy haired teen looked up to see Harry falling to the ground, his face slack, his eyes glazed. Voldemort had killed him, for a third time, in the split second Nagini had gone flying.

The Chosen One slumped to the ground, amidst a renewed wave of shrieks, and cries. He wouldn't be getting up again, and they all seemed to realize this at the same time, staring down at his still-opened eyes, and unchanging face. He'd gotten them the last horcrux to kill, and sacrificed himself, yet again. There was a stampeding sound, and Hermione pushed herself to her feet, her eyes catching sight of Ron, his mouth open in a scream, as he charged at the Dark Lord, his wand raised, his face full of fury.

"Ron, NO!" Hermione screamed as Voldemort smiled a sickening grin, and blocked the green jet of light that shot from Ron's wand easily, as a Death Eater stepped in to defend their master, knocking Ron to the ground with a hex, and froze him in place with a full body bind. Hermione was halfway to him when she realized others were being taken in the same fashion. Some were running, throwing shield charms up as they went, trying madly to escape, into the castle, the forest, around the mass of Death Eaters toward the gate. So many falling, so many fleeing. She ran, glancing back at Ron on the ground, swearing to herself that she'd save him.

She couldn't do that now. But she would. They hadn't killed him. There was hope. She ran away from the others, heading into the grounds, knowing that the masses of stampeding people were more dangerous than the open field of grass. She heard a voice yell behind her, and waved her wand in a panic, shielding her back from a hex, and veering sideways, in case her charm didn't hold. She saw the whomping willow just ahead, and ran faster, knowing it led to the shrieking shack. She could apparate away from there. She raised her wand in front of her, lifting a stone, and sending it flying into the stilling knot on the base of the flailing tree. The tree froze, and she slid quickly into the hole, scrambling forward on her hands and knees, her mind working quickly, pushing her despair down, and focusing on freedom. She could hear someone entering the tunnel behind her, and heard a few muttered expletives from a male's voice. Whoever'd been chasing her was nowhere near as small as she was, and was getting stuck. Neither could use their wands in the tight space, and Hermione scrambled faster, her hands scraping along the ground, her hair catching at an occasional exposed root, or bit of rock.