The Battle of Hogwarts

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Draco Malfoy

Draco had a choice. He had a choice when be never had one before. The Dark Mark burned on his skin. He was still dressed in a suit that was meant to be part of what made him a Death Eater. It was the way his father stood to the side, among all the Death Eaters that he had grown up with seeing them at Malfoy Manor. It was seeing Voldemort at the center of it all. Harry Potter was dead, but had the Death Eaters really won? His father looked more tired than he had ever seen him, his mother had looked so weary, her eyes begging him to come into their arms and just end this whole thing. His fingers itched at the side of his wand. Next to him, his girlfriend and fellow 7th year Gryffindor next to him. Since their fifth year, they had been together, but she had never met his parents, she had never been part of his home life and she finally understood why – he had never gotten to grow up, he was groomed to be something he was not, all because of the people who had come before him. "Don't," She whispered to him, his fingers grazing over his hand, but he pulled away. He took a step forward, "Draco, you don't have to go." She whispered and he turned to her, looking scared and afraid and so very much alone, "I'm here, we're here. We." She took both of her hands into his, "We can do this. Together." And he was tired, but he nodded and his own hand, battle-scarred and bruised fit into her's perfectly. He stood tall, faced his mother and father, and set his jaw. He was not leaving her, or Hogwarts, he had finally made his choice. 

Cedric Diggory

She had seen it all, the way he looked so defeated and tired after the Tri-Wizard tournament, the nightmares he had when he woke up screaming next to her, wondering about Voldemort and the way he had narrowly missed death. And then, he committed his life to the cause. And she had too, upon her graduation. And they had been together, narrowly escaping death for many years. They thrived, at first, good versus evil, but then it had seemed impossible as every cornerstone of their relationship and their work had crumbled until nothing was left until the very foundation upon which their cracked and fragile lives laid. Cedric Diggory was not the man she knew back at Hogwarts, the war had aged him, made him callous and cold to a world where love seemed impossible, and yet they had each other. It wasn't until they were racing down the halls of Hogwarts, much less carefree than they had during their school days, narrowly missing thrown rocks and broken glass that she realized she didn't want to spend another day apart. She had seen him in his glory days as a Hufflepuff prefect and a Tri-Wizard tournament, she had seen him at his worst in the days after it was over. Her thoughts separated as a blast rang through the air and she was forced backwards, ringing in her ears, unable to hear anything else as Cedric was forced from her. She cried, out, tears streaking her dust-filled face, looking for him in the fog. She found him crumpled on the floor, breathing heavily, blood on the side of his face, "Cedric!" She scrambled towards him, reaching onto anything she could grab, "Oh Merlin," She whispered, looking at the blood trickling from his temple, "Oh, just never leave me." She cried out, hearing the faintest of replies, "Never, my love."

Fred Weasley

Their hands had slipped apart, there was the crush of rubble, a moment of silence, and then another green killing curse flying throughout the room. She didn't want to leave him, but she saw his hair, saw his hand, the way it looked so lifeless as she sprinted from the hall, leaving him alone. It was the way that timed seemed to slow down and stop as she made her way to safety, cowering in a long-since abandoned classroom, hiding from another attack. She hadn't had a sleepless night in months, hadn't been able to rest knowing that he was out there, his life on the line while she was still in her last year of school. The joke shop boarded up, the Burrow long-since abandoned, when was the last time she had seen Fred since before tonight? When did she last get to kiss him or sit with him late into the evening, coming up with new potions and charms for the shop? When was the last time she truly genuinely laughed without fear of the Dark Lord's regime? She could not remember. Her body wracked with silent cries at the fear he was dead, her body aching for sleep, for a portion of time where she did not have to fear for her, or his safety. She was crouching down when she heard the door bang open, she heard the ragged breathing, a meek cry escaping her lips. "Love, are you in here?" She finally heard the door shut, quiet and loud all at once and she knew he was okay. She ran to him, crashing upon him as he staggered back, bruised, but very much alive. She had never been more thankful than in that moment. 

George Weasley 

George, with only one ear, and the way he had admittedly been self-conscious following the incident had become a recluse to himself, not knowing whether or not he was good enough to continue on his life as normal with one ear. And so, he filled the empty space with jokes. And although his girlfriend could sense that something was not entirely right, she chose to ignore it, for his processing was different than that of her's. But, she had stood by him, when they lived at the Burrow, when they needed to run into hiding, and finally, when they had been called to their former school like so many other members of the Order of the Phoenix. And she was scared. Her schooling had taught her about this, but she thrived in books and teachings, never in the field. And it came as no surprise when she almost immediately got separated from the Weasley twin, preferring to fight in a style that no one had seen her – ferocious and with a fury that nobody had seen. In fact, no one even realized it was the meek Ravenclaw from years before. And then, he was there in the library, his backed turned for just a second as a Death Eater cast upon his a Cruciatus curse. She writhed in pain as the Death Eater fled, George running to her as she screamed in agony. His arms propped her up as the pain began to fade, breathing heavily as she tried to withstand the after-effects. She was up in seconds after, a determined look in her eye as she saw the same Death Eater round the corner. It was one after the other, in quick succession, until the Death Eater had plummeted into jet black-ink, finally too beaten to carry on. 'Wicked', George would think, admiring his girlfriend as he never had before. But there would be time for admiration later.

Neville Longbottom

She had stood next to Neville in the final moments, thinking Harry Potter dead, crying for a person she had never known well-enough to get attached to, but believing that hope was lost. She wrapped her hands tightly around Neville's and the retreated into the castle and she was so focused on fighting her own battles that she didn't even realize Neville had killed Nagini until the final moments, where the snake had disappeared into a deathly cloud of smoke. There was silence for a moment as the smoke cleared and she ran to him, gripping the jumper he was wearing so tightly that he knuckles turned white. The sword dropped from his hands as he cupped the sides of her face, ashen and dirty, but neither of them minded. She rested her head against him, trying to comprehend all that had happened. All the people that had been lost in the battle. But they were there, among the rubble and the broken pieces of a school where they had learned to fall in love. "Marry me," Neville spoke quietly against her hair, "Marry me, today, tomorrow, whenever, I don't want to be without you. Always." It was the adrenaline, it was the rush of the battle, and the pain in knowing that if he had lost her, there would be no chance of moving forward. And it was the truth. She nodded into him, "When this is all over." She replied, meaning her answer with every ounce of courage and commitment she could muster, "When this is all over, I will." And he was content with that answer. 

Oliver Wood

She had tended to the wounded, she had fought against her House, but then again, there was never any doubt that she would. Her parents were not affiliated with the Dark Lord, she had never felt the pull of the Slytherin house the way some of her peers had. And although she had a mean streak here and there, she had never done anything except help for the good of Hogwarts. And now, as she watched as the last of the individuals filtered in, she was allowing herself to grieve. There were still those missing, those who were dead, and she had heard the worst. Lee Jordan had confirmed that several members of the flying squad had been downed several hours during the night and she was flitting around the room, scared out of her mind. It had been several years since she and Oliver had last seen each other, he had pursued the professional Quidditch career he had always dreamed of, and she had worked with the Order after the Ministry fell. But she knew he was fighting, she had heard it earlier as he shouted orders from the sky. He had an unmistakable voice. She had gone to rest outside, away from the death and decay. And she heard the landing before she saw it. He landed hard on his feet among the rubble and she knocked the mug of tea out of her hand, sprinting to him. The broom was knocked out of his hands, his hands raw and blistered from flying all night, his hair matted and dirty, "You're alive." She breathed out as she felt her way down his arms, as if he were a figment of her imagination, "I'm alive." He chuckled and she broke into a sob, half-laughing in the process, "Thank Merlin." And he held her as she cried, trying to make up for the years they had been apart. 

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