YOUR PAIN IS MY RETRIBUTION
Chaos. The Great Hall is swarming with bodies—Death Eaters, members of the Order and unfortunately but necessary, our children. The power, the magic, pulses in angry beats within the room. The noise, deafening and a mass of confusion, yet also somehow I am able to discern the separate struggles, the single battles, within this space.
I am tired. So tired. My body is bruised. I stand in this last place, my wand arm aching. My mind overwhelmed with loss, grief, anger, hate and pain.
Voldemort. A name I revile. A name that has been imprinted in the minds of my generation, my children’s generation and the generations to come. A name which lends itself to all that is insidious, perfidious, evil and unholy. A being who spreads his cancer throughout the wizarding world, rousing the inner monsters of wizards and witches who have long since shed their sense of humanity, their responsibility to their own race. Their cries and shouts ring in my ears as my arm raises again and again to strike at the enemy.
Fred. My boy, my light child. Dead. His thread cut far before his rightful time, his life stripped away by twisted men who see children as threats to their own existence. The anguish continues to tear its way through me though I have no time to mourn in the heat of battle. My eyes are painfully dry as I face Death Eater after Death Eater, bringing them down with a wave of my wand and a spell from my lips.
Harry. The Boy Who Lived. The savior of our world. Burdened at so young an age, hardened by losses no one should endure but emboldened with a fire lit from within. I take courage from his strength, his love for mankind, as I fight the final battle here in the Great Hall. We may not survive this next hour, but we will prevail and hate and revenge and greed will no longer have the audacity and temerity to raise their ugly heads ever again.
As a Death Eater falls, my gaze spans the Hall. My heart aches to see these young bright wizards take on hardened criminals, murderers, cold men and bitter women all too willing to bring them down with a curse.
A flash of red catches my eye. Ginny. Her hair, a shining banner, flies around her as she takes on a Death Eater. The fighters between my daughter and I shift, and I can see who Ginny is locked in combat with.
The woman's dark hair moves as if alive and coils like Medusa’s snakes around her head, her eyes glint with malice. My entire being focuses in on just that one corner, the rest of the room falling away into some unknown vacuum. Oh the rage, the hate that pours through my veins like spilled gasoline touched by a spark. I will not have another of my precious children fall in this fight. This insanity, her wretched life can end.
My wand raises, almost on its own volition. My feet strike hard floor. Others move in deference to the power I can feel flowing through me. A scream rips its way out of my throat as I lock eyes with the Dark Lord's lieutenant--Bellatrix.
A/N: Please let me know what you think! Molly's a bit random to have as a first HP fanfic but for some reason this one just flowed from my little clerk in my head to my fingertips and keyboard. (01-09-11 updated)
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