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Amid the Battle-Din

By

Anessa Ramsey

Alone amid the battle-din untouched

Stands out one figure beautiful, serene;

No grime of smoke nor reeking blood hath smutched

The virgin brow of this unconquered queen.

She is the Joy of Courage vanquishing

The unstilled tremors of the fearful heart;

And it is she that bids the poet sing

And gives to each the strength to bear his part.

                           Dyneley Hussey

         When I saw her standing there gazing around the field of fallen bodies, I was certain that my time was at an end.  Her blazing hair floated around her in a cloud of fire and her robes were tattered and torn.  Yet she stood tall, an imposing queen and leader.  I've never been so afraid of anyone in my life.

         It was a strange reversal of the years that we'd both spent at Hogwarts.  Little Ginny Weasley was tormented by me more than anyone.  I did all I could to make her cry.  Now, as I stand here facing her across a field that used to be full of wildflowers, I am suddenly very certain that she is about to exact her revenge.

         I see her brothers, lying lifeless on the ground not far from her.  I know she can see them as well.  She does not show her grief.  She stands there, still gazing at me.  I wish she'd just get it over with.  I'm too tired to stand here all day waiting for her to kill me.

         "Come on Weasley, do it all ready!" I shout into the silence of the day.  I didn't know that it would come down to this.  I never wanted to be a Death Eater.  I certainly never wanted to join my father in Voldemort's ranks.  Yet here I stand, the only one left after the brutal, bloody battle.

         There is still magic in the air, whizzing by us.  It is remnants from the battle.  And it was a battle, vicious and unyielding.  Potter and Dumbledore led their troops well.  They were powerful and strong.  And in the end Voldemort fell to them.  But they did not survive to see the swarm of Death Eaters that attacked without care once their leader fell.  It was a blood bath.  I am the only one left.  She is as well. 

         Is she ever going to do it?  I am ready for death.  I am ready to get this mark off my arm.  I am ready to forget the screams of anguish that Voldemort inflicted.  I look at her again and in those deep brown eyes I see…something.  I think it might be compassion, but I can't tell for sure.  I don't care.  I just want her to kill me already.  I know she knows the curse.  She used it several times in battle.

         Instead I'm stunned when she raises her wand and says, "Petrificus Totalus."  I can't move and I feel myself falling backward.  But I do catch a glimpse of her as she begins to walk off the field.  My mind is screaming, "No!".  She's leaving me here for the Ministry to deal with.  I don't want to go to Azkaban.  I don't want to receive a Dementor's kiss.  I just want to pass on.   Instead I lie here waiting for my punishment.  And I know, that when I receive the Dementor's kiss, the one memory I will never forget is the proud, strong nature of the fiery virgin queen standing amid the battle-din.