The sky burns a raging amber with the remnants of the battle, and the same fire licks at my heart. Harry is not dead, because I love him and surely that should be enough to keep any heart beating? Yet pearls of water cascade from Hagrid's eye, decorating Harry's chin and Harry's arm falls, heavy as my heart, by his side. I am numb, disbelieving, yet death slaps at my conscience with such force that I close my eyes and scream his name in response. A sea of black robes may laugh, but I will not let him go that easily.
by © Isobel Bremner (13)
Competition - Mini Monologues
Copyright remains with the author.