Book 1: Of Thorns & Roses

20: Run

Run.

The ache in my legs snaked across my body, spreading into each limb as the darkened canopy of night sparkled its cloak with every step.

Run.

The detached voice rang through my ears like the distant pangs of death itself. A disembodied figure which haunted my thoughts and ruined my frail being. I was growing weaker with every stride, unsure what I was attempting to flee.

Sweat glistened above my brow and down my back. I couldn't remember how the hell I had gotten here, but something was drawing me closer. Something lurked behind those taunting trees.

The Forbidden Forest.

The last thing I remembered was going back to my empty dorm after more research with Hermione. We were continuing to try and figure out the source of my odd encounters with a secret messenger.

My breathing hitched. My feet stopped.

I noticed distant voices in the deep of night, which slithered their way into my ears like poisonous venom.

I knew that voice. The one I had heard not so long ago in the depths of my every thought. Protruding itself in the most private of places. Trailing clouds of evil in its path, leaving me frightful for what was to come.

I debated whether or not to approach the whispering voices that stood out in the silence of midnight. My feet betrayed me in longing eagerness to uncover the truth. It was tonight I would find what I was looking for.

My thoughts were abruptly halted with the glimpse of a flashing green, which pierced my vision in a cascade of dread and what was to follow in its release.

Death.

My slow moving feet paused before breaking into a hurtling run, towards the source of The Unforgivable Curse.

All I could hear was the sound of my harsh breathing and cold blood rushing through my veins as my feet slammed against the rotten ground. Agony filled my senses, and silent screams coursed through my insides.

I had approached the area. I dropped to my knees at the sight.

The sight of him.

My silent screams pushed through in a whirl of horror and unrelenting rage as they materialized into the silent air. Pausing the world around me as a way to acknowledge my loss.

Draco lay before my quivering shell, unmoving. The light that had once possessed his enthralling irises danced only with the spell of death.

Tears streamed down my distressed face as my body shivered in the unnoticed chill, which encased my skin and far beneath its surface.

I clenched his lifeless body in my arms, wrapping my body, my soul, my love for him in each grasp. His body lacked the flow of blood. The steady beat of a heart. The touch of profound ambition.

He was gone.

I hadn't noticed the bodies, which surrounded my own and Draco's. The echo of their footsteps intruded my senses as my head whirled to search for the face of the murderer.

The pang of deep sorrow was quickly replaced with that of pure hatred for the faces before me.

"Who did it?" I screamed into the dead abyss of those who exemplified the meaning of evil.

Lord Voldemort. Bellatrix Lestrange. Fenrir Greyback. Peter Pettigrew. Lucius Malfoy.

All bodies which harbored the depths of vile and foul misgivings. I was met with eyes of obvious distaste in my presence. My body was pulsating at the immense sorrow that penetrated every part of my being.