Chapter 1 : How I Die
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The crescendo of the silence reaches a deafening level, the gentle hum of my inner voice in my head, accompanied by the thumping of my heart in my ears. There was a shaking fear that was rapturing through my veins like this uncontrollable poison. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening before my eyes, it unleashed this unaudible scream from my mouth, ripping through air and leaving shreds of tears in it’s midst. The words of my horror died at my lips, as I breathed the terror in and out.
Every time my heart beats, it pounds with fury for Voldemort, and all the pain and suffering they've caused. One beat for Frank and Alice Longbottom, another beat for Lily and James Potter, one for Dobby...my heart gives a painful wrench, as I think back to Sirius.
I could see the bumpy down hill slope before me, and the sweeping black gang of crows following me, so I took off down the hill, leaving the ruins of Hogwarts behind me and heading towards the Forbidden Forest. I was determined to not breathe in through my nose, and I twisted round to shoot some jinxs as best as I could towards the death eaters behind me. Four down, three to go.
Fear tastes like this. It tastes like the metallic taste of blood on your tongue, the beating of your heart on the roof of your dry mouth, the taste of tears trickling on to your lips.
Fear was in everyone's mouths, on everyone's tongues, but the person that could taste it worst of all, was Harry Potter.
~ Here’s a fun fact: In less than two minutes, I’m going to die. And Harry Potter? He's going to die in less than five minutes. ~
I know, I know. I shouldn’t really be Miss.Miseryguts about it, but really I couldn’t give a toss about building tension and suspense in a story, so here it is. How I die. Now you know the ending, good for you. There’s never a really good way how to describe my own death, so I’ll just be frank with you. Maybe if I added a few pretty ornaments it would make it a bit more lighthearted and less on the scary side.
~ How I die ~
Better? Not much. I suppose when it comes to death there’s no way to make it cheery.
~ Here’s another not-so-fun fact to cheer you up: I have a son. ~
Death has it’s sour twist, that being for me that I’ll never get the sweet taste of seeing my son grow up. I was always sure about having Harry Potter as a godfather to Teddy, now more than ever, because I know Harry will understand more than anyone else. It was Harry Potter who was orphaned at one years old, I now I realize Lily and I do have quite a lot in common, and not just because we both married a maraurder.
I shall have to seek her out here, wherever I am in this ecstasy of white, and talk to her. There’s not a doubt in my mind that she’s not a nice person, and it would be nice to finally meet her. I have a feeling she’d like to hear about Harry and all the things he’s done, from another person. I can’t seek Lily out yet though - first she must do something that’s very important - as if dying for your son isn’t important enough.
I hope one day someone will come up to me that knew Teddy and will tell me all the great things Teddy Lupin has done.
~ A Fact: It’s hard to be flippant about these things, but I can’t stay long on them. If I do, I’ll start crying. If I start crying I won’t ever be able to stop. ~
~ Something to lighten the mood: *insert inappropriate smiley face here* ~
So instead I replay and replay my death scene in my head. If I had a therapist (which I don’t, er, how rich do you think I am?) he’d say that this was me trying to accept the fact I’m dead because I’m in shock.
I remember the last time I was in shock, when Moody died, and all I wanted was to be hugged, and told that everything was going to be okay. That was the moment when I looked around the room, and I saw everyone else felt the same way, and I wasn't the only one that was feeling lonely and lost.
I also remember the first time I was in shock, when I got told that what I could do with my characteristics wasn't normal. My hair changed to black, and I sat on my Dad's knee, and he rocked me backwards and forwards, and stroked my hair. He didn't even complain when I buried my head in to his shirt and got all my snot and tears over it.
~ A Noteworthy Note: I have accepted I am dead. I quite like the tranquility. I can feel the arm of Remus’ wrapped around my shoulders, and this will be the last ever time I tell this story I think. Then I will leave this story forever. ~
~ A Warning before we begin: I can get side tracked. ~
~ How I die Part 1) ~
The sun’s on my back, and it’s a nice day, and then the stench of bodies fills my nostrils in one big eye watering odour. It makes you want to gag, but I don’t. Back in the Burrow, they called me: “Iron Stomach.” I only throw up twice after eating a puking pastille, where as for everyone else it’s four times or more.
I’m not suggesting you try eating a puking pastille - they’re vile. I was there when Seamus Finnegan downed a box of puking pastilles, and trust me that was not pretty.
Actually, I retract that last statement. Have puking pastilles! For all of you that are staring at me blankly, I’ll assume you’re either rude or broke. Remus is always telling me to think the best of people, so I’ll assume the latter.
Anyway, have puking pastilles, take it from a dead woman, live life to the full - rent a muggle hotel room and act all posh and muggleish. (I tried that with Charlie Weasley once - a unicorn burst into the drawing room and ate everyone's biscuits).
Don’t say I didn’t warn you, I did say I can get side tracked.
~ On the subject of him ~
I died with Remus beside me, and my son safe, and a pretty painless death as deaths go. What else could a woman wish for? I was never in to diamonds, but thinking about it, I would’ve liked my lucky bludger Walter beside me.
Never mind, my mother has that now on her mantel piece, right next to the framed photo of her and my father on their wedding day. It’s a lovely photo actually -- her face is beamish with a jubilant grin on her rosy lips and a white dress that brought out the blue in her eyes.
Where was I? Oh yes.
~ How I die Part 2) ~
The shouts are like daggers at my heart, and I can’t help thinking, somewhere at the back of my mind that dying here would be an alright place to die, at home, in Hogwarts. The hoarse croaks of my husband bring me back to reality and I jump in to action, speeding through the forest and weaving through the trees.
It’s getting rather exciting isn’t it? Perhaps a little bit too exciting. Just to be on the safe side, I shall tell it in two versions; one as the truth, one as a brief nicer one, for those who are faint at heart.
Sub headings here we come. Everyone loves a good sub heading, right? Just me? Okay.
I’m suddenly feeling like I don’t mind telling it one last time, but I’ll make sure to tell it exactly how it was, and nothing else. I have a feeling I won't get side tracked this time either.
How I Die (the brief less gory one)
The sun’s on my back, and it’s a nice day, and then the stench of DAISIES fills my nostrils in one big eye watering odour. The BIRDSONGS fill the air and strike ice shattering through my body, and my POPSICLES snap in two. I hear footsteps behind me, and I turn rapidly, shooting a UNICORN at them with the best accuracy I can muster. The hooded fellow DANCES, and Remus shouts my name desperately. I search for him, shooting the people that surround him, and see that he’s in fact been DOING THE HULA HULA. Then we run off together and live happily ever after. The end.
How I Die (the truthful gory one)
The sun’s on my back, and it’s a nice day, and then the stench of bodies fills my nostrils in one big eye watering odour. The screams fill the air and strike ice shattering through my body, and my nerves snap in two. I hear footsteps behind me, and I turn rapidly, shooting a hex at them with the best accuracy I can muster. The hooded fellow flies back, clad in a coal black cloak, that swallows him up in an engulfing infinity of hell. My lungs feel like they’re about to explode, but I carry on running breathlessly through the forest.
I lost where Remus went about seven minutes ago, so I duelled alongside Ginny, Hermione, Molly and Kingsley, before the crowd of sniggering death eaters found me and chased me in to the darkest depths of the forbidden forest.
I hear the yelp from off to the left, and hot white fear runs through me. I can recognise that voice anywhere. Without warning, I’m sent in to a panic striken frenzy, and I find myself sprinting blindly through the forest, branches whipping at my face. The branches snap at me, caressing at my face, the trees all bent over like hags, their gnarled witches fingers cutting at my numb cheeks.
I find him.
Three death eaters surround him, one lying on the ground, dead I presume. I can see Remus on the ground. Suddenly all three of the death eaters are on the ground too, so quickly I didn't even register it was me that sent them there, and I rush over to my dying husband. Blood is gushing out of his stomach, a crimson stream trickling on to the carpet of pine needles. He looks at me, and his calm blue eyes are so full of fear, brimming with shuddering terror that consumes him.
“Nymphadora,” he whimpers, and he’s making these noises at the back of his throat like an injured puppy.
I cradle his head in my arms, kneeling beside him, the way I held my newborn son.
“I’m here Remus,” I say softly, and all the swirling hate has gone out of me. “Remember the time when all the gryffindors were locked out of gryffindor tower because they won the house cup, and their party after wards was wild? The Gryffindor common room armchair set on fire! And Professor McGonagall went bonkers, and made all the house elves have to clean it all up?”
I remember this story, as even though I wasn’t there, it was one of Remus’ fondest memories.
“Remember when you all huddled in the girls toilets, every single gryffie, and Professor McGonagall found and picked up a Patented Daydream Charm on the floor of the toilets? It was really cold down there, so Sirius started another fire, which got quickly put out, and he got locked in a cubicle. Remember?”
He stops whimpering, and this calm glazed look is in his eye, as he stares levelly at the horizon. A darting glance at his stomach makes my own stomach lurch and twist in to a tight knot. The wound in his stomach is deep, and a cardinal red mess that spreads up his torso. My grip tightens on his head, because I don’t want to lose him, god I don’t.
“Remember when James started to jump up on the toilet seat in there, and then Myrtle humped out of the toilet and grabbed his shoe, so James fell down the...”
The flick of a wand, and the hiss of a spell. It feels like the searing pain of getting burned and getting frozen. It’s undescribable, and it shoots down every bone in my body. I can hear the faint cackling of a death eater several steps behind me, as he races off having just killed me.
I don’t care. All I feel is agony as I fall down heavily beside my husband, the trembling feel of death deepening. My voice is a whisper now, and my shivering hand is shuddering inside Remus’ cold limp grip.
He’s dead, oh god, he’s dead.
“Remember holding your son for the first time,” I whisper softly, because even though I know he can’t hear me, I’m saying it for myself. The image of Teddy fitting perfectly in the crook of my arm is imprinted on the front of my mind, the way he gripped my finger tightly in his chubby fist and wouldn't let go for anything.
Hot tears start to prick at my eyes, and I say to myself that the stillness of the forest is the perfect place to die. I can't stop the fat salty tears roll though, streaking down my cheeks and dropping on to the forest floor.
“His eyes were beautiful and sparkling blue, just like yours, Remus. They were wide and round, and you looked straight in to them and you knew what his name was straight away. You said it yourself, Remus, you said Teddy.”
Then I choke with rattling lungs, and I give up speaking because my own life is fading like a flickering candle before my eyes.
And right there, I know that whatever happens next, I’m holding on to Remus Lupin’s hand. And like the way Teddy held on to my finger, nothing in the whole world will persuade me to let go.
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