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She woke to the sound of screams, and her eyes quickly adjusted to the light, even though there was barely any. The rain was still pouring, and she guessed the time was no later than five in the morning. She rushed back to their room where River had just opened his eyes, hearing the screams as well.
"They're here," He said, seemingly out of breath. He stood and pulled on his jumper, wand in hand. He grabbed something else after, a sword. A sword that was a gift from Reigna from years ago.
Her father told her it wasn't practical. Magic was faster than any weapon. But Reigna's father didn't see the way Riverlin looked at the knights in the muggle history books. He didn't see the way Riverlin was so fond of the tales of King Arthur. Reigna saw all that. Eventually Archibald gave in, and allowed Reigna to gift River a sword. She'd never seen him use it.
"Who?" she asked, suiting up as well, even though she knew who was here. She knew they wouldn't be able to hide for long, she just didn't expect them so soon. She pulled her own jumper on and grabbed her wand, as well as a small dagger that River had gotten her the year after the sword. He wanted them to match.
River inhaled before motioning towards the door. "The ones we've been dreading to see," He answered, and Reigna got it. They found them. She took a deep breath before nodding at River, and he kicked open the door. The both of them ran downstairs to see Hermione , Ron, and Harry fighting against none other than Draco, Lucius, Narcissia, her father, and her grandmother. How the old hag was fighting, they didn't know. Reigna and River glanced at each other quickly,
"Ready, Reigna?" He asked, flashing her one of his trademark smiles.
"Ready, River." She said, managing a shaky smile back.
She didn't even have time to take in the sight of Draco before she began to fight, taking her position next to Hermione. They made the fight even. She didn't have time to consider how they had found River and herself either, there was no time at all.
They fought long and hard, spells bouncing off of each other.
It was tragic how people who were once classmates were now enemies, but there was no time for that.
It was inconvenient how Hermione ended up on the ground due to Lucius' stupefy, but there was no time for that.
It was understandable why Harry tried to cast a crucio on Lucius for revenge and hit her grandmother instead, but there was no time for that.
It made sense why Archibald refrained from shooting spells at his children, Reigna thought maybe he cared a little bit, but there was no time for that.
It was touching, how Narcissia backed away from the fight when she saw wounded children, but there was no time for that.
It was difficult, Riverlin and Reigna against Lucius and Draco.
It was intelligent, the way River used his sword to disarm Lucius and stupefy him at the same time. It came in handy after all.
It was unforgivable, the way Draco spit out avada kedavra out of fear and wasn't aiming, and she knew this because it came in her direction.
It was heart wrenching, the way Riverlin managed to disarm Draco with his sword and still step between Reigna and the spell.
Silence.
Complete silence as he fell to the floor.
The sword made more noise than his body.
Then there was no more silence, there were screams.
Screams so loud it was as though Reigna's heart was ripped out.
Because it was.
She ran to his body, in complete shock. she had never felt more emotions at once. Shock. Fear. Rage. Grief. Sadness. Heartache. Loss. All of it. Her eyes were full of tears and she blinked rapidly to get rid of them, to see River there. Just in case he got up, even though she knew he would't.
She looked up at him, the murderer. She held her dagger up, pointing it at him. No one paid any mind to how much her hands were shaking. They were looking at her.
She looked scary. Draco had never seen someone look so horrific, her eyes full of tears and her face scowling, almost psychotic. That wasn't his Reigna. It wasn't the girl who treated blades of grass with love and praised raindrops for their beauty. Before he could even say a word, Lucius had made sure they disapparated, and they were gone.
Draco shed more tears than Archibald. He shed one, because now he knew the girl he loved would never care for him again. Archibald shed none, because he would never let Lucius see him cry.
