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The Gift and the Curse
By : firennissiassassin
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione
Views: 1737 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. - Chapter List
My first fanfic.
Hope you like it.The war was supposed to be some
great victory. It was going to be the last stance that saved the wizarding
world. The blood spilt, the death that permeated the air was enough to send me
to St. Mungo’s. All my friends, my
classmates, my professors lying lifeless on the ground. It was the stuff
that hero’s tales were made of, except twisted to some perverse, unnatural
fashion.Ron Weasley, Madam Hooch, Madam Pince,
Hannah Abbott, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, the Creevey
brothers . . . . . . so many dead on the school that
became the battlefield. The children that became the warriors are dead, from
all houses, all heavily hit. Our coming of age had come in blood.Death was
indiscriminate, uncaring of which side you stood on. I walked through the
Quidditch pitch coming upon the body that caused so much pain, so much
suffering, so much desperation. Finally
dead, finally the end that the wizarding world so badly needed.Not too far
away was the body of Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, the
savior of the wizarding world. Fresh tears awoke me from my deadened state. I
saw it all happen in slow motion, like some of those American action movies.
Voldemort fired the killing curse at Harry. Ron took the hit. Harry immediately
Avada Kevadra’d Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy killed Harry form behind. Cowardly
bastard.At that
point I broke form the stagnation that was halting my actions. I was so
infuriated, so saddened, so desperate. I could not see straight. Wand
forgotten, I saw red, and had passed out. Only to awaken now, to stare at the
battle fought, contemplating what had happened. Draco Malfoy turning to the light
with Blaise Zabini and
turning around and killing their housemates of seven years. Our
graduation day had turned into a massacre. The death of everyone I ever loved.
The finality of it was depressing.*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
I was about
to see the know-it-all Gryffindor give her valedictorian speech. No surprise
there. When all of a sudden scores of Deatheaters apparated giving a new
meaning to the term “snap, crackle, and pop”. I had always been fond of the
Muggle cereal, though I’ll be damned if I ever admit it.Except for
the younger students who had taken it up themselves to scream like banshees
(honestly, what was that going to achieve), everyone took out their wands to
join their respective sides. The Order or the wizards that once were, the
Deatheaters. Half of Slytherin had abandoned Hogwarts to join the Dark Lord.
Any loon who can’t be any more creative than the “Dark Lord” needs to find a
hobby. I believe that I induce much more fear by looking at a student who had
just killed one of my cauldrons than the term the “Dark Lord.”Hexes and
curses bring flown and thrown every which way. Chaos and anarchy would have
found a great home here. Dumbledore, the supposed symbol of all things good and
holy, ordained by the almighty Garvedians to be the poster boy of the Light, wa shaving trouble keeping up with the onslaught of attacks
he was enduring. His strength was failing. Great. Bloody fucking brilliant.All around
students were falling, students that I ridiculed, that I taught, that I favored
and that I scorned. Sobering myself into action, I started to attack violently
anyone who dared attack MY students, My hope for MY
freedom and MY redemption. Damn the sadists who decided to follow a nut job who
wants to exterminate the general populace. Come on, seriously, what will that
accomplish? Absolutely nothing.Oh great.
Saint Potter. The final duel. The
one that would decide everything. It was like a running Quidditch
commentator in my head – Voldemort attacked Potter . . . Weasley intercepted .
. . . . Potter killed Voldemort . . . shot down by a cowardly Malfoy senior
from behind and . . . . the wizarding world is saved
by one Harry James Potter who is our official martyr.Then the most unusual awe-strucking thing happened . . . . .
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