Chapter 1 : My last big mistake
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The images kept on flashing through my mind as I hurtled through the trees.
I could hear them coming for me.
Suddenly I stumbled and fell onto the earthy ground, hastily I grabbed for my wand which had fallen out of reach.
Cursing I tried to stand, but my foot got caught on a large tree root and I fell back again, smacking my head on the trunk of the tree as I fell. I cursed again and tried to untangle my foot from the branch. I rubbed the dirt from my tear stained face and finally got myself free; nursing my sore head I stood and scanned the ground for my wand. Not the best place to be able to do this in a wood, at dusk.
I began to hear the voices coming closer now.
I tried to take a deep breath and concentrate, not easy with a sore foot, a sore head and tears streaming down your face. I wasn’t afraid to cry, that was the least of my worries.
Finally, I saw it a sudden flashback reminded me of a little boy with tape around his wand holding it together and vomiting slugs. I shook my head and bent to pick it up.
“I think I see him.”
Panic shot through me as I hurriedly turned and ran again, throwing my arms out wildly to avoid branches hitting me in the face, I had no idea where I was going or where I would go if I managed to get out of the woods.
“Stop.” someone shouted
I kept running and running, my breath burning in my lungs.
I was an outlaw.
This was what I was now, a simple mistake, a selfish act of heroism and it all ends like this, I’ll never see my friends again when they needed me the most.
This hadn’t been the final battle where I made my magnificent mistake. This was only the beginning. The war had started two years ago and threatened to continue, we hadn’t been three years out of school and now look at us, we weren’t young anymore many of us had aged beyond our years, seeing people we loved die, seeing our families ripped apart by the war…the worst seeing the dark lord win over and over again. They say history is written by the winners, I’m beginning to doubt that we’ll ever have a say in it.
I ran and I ran and I kept on running and I -
I believe that I was running out of air to my lungs, I knew I had to stop, but I was too afraid to face what would happen to me if I were to stop.
The tears had run out by now, they were blinding me, so had to be stopped. I couldn’t risk falling again.
If only Hermione was here to keep me calm, despite the times she’d had driven me crazy
I still appreciated her friendship…and Neville, poor sweet…dead Neville, and Fred and George and Luna and ….the tears were coming back
“Stop it.” I growled to myself still tearing through the wood.
How stupid had I been?
Suddenly I saw the trees were thinning, a little bit of luck had come my way. Somehow I managed to get the energy to push that little bit faster I thought of blasting my way through the trees but that would have given my position away.
Finally I got to the edge. It was dark now and somehow I hadn’t noticed.
I pushed through the last surrounding trees and found myself in front of a hill. If I went over it then I’d be seen. But if I went around it then I’d have no idea what would be behind it.
I went left.
I should have gone right….
“There he is!”
I could have died there and then. As the gang surged towards me, with faces in it who
I had once called my friends.
I had run right into a trap, I never was one for thinking well ahead of me, Hermione was good for that.
“We’ve got him!”
“You thought you could run.”
“We thought better of you.”
It felt like hundreds of hands were grabbing at me.
I cried out helplessly, but it was too late,
For I was Ronald Weasley.
And I had killed, Harry Potter.