Wounded

Her eyes glinted in the dying sunlight. This was it. After tonight it would all be over and if luck was on their side, they would win. The wind blew dark locks into her face, obstructing her filed of vision for a mere moment. Her body tensed as she felt the others around her began to shift anxiously. They had waited what seemed like eons for this moment and it was here. There they came, up over the hill, led by the Chosen One. The Prophesied leader's army was pitiful in comparison. In a blur of actions fighting had commenced. Screams abounded in the evening air. She felt the headed venom of hatred coursing through her tainted veins as she fired of spell after spell, waving the slender wooden rod about grandiosely.

"Ginny look out!" Harry called as he himself dodged a ray of green light.

The redhead moved just in time to avoid the curse that was aimed at her chest. IT really was quite a scene. Far on the opposite hill, the Dark Lord sat, surveying it all. He would not enter into this. He would let Harry come to him. He had instructed his followers to leave the boy alive, insuring that he would make it up the hill. At that moment Harry spotted Voldemort and narrowed his eyes dangerously. The boy began to make his way towards the foot of the hill when a darkly clad figure appeared between them. It was the unmistakable form of Severus Snape. The youth stopped short, coming to confront the murderer of his mentor.

"Finished running coward?" Harry snapped angrily, leveling his wand at the black robed figure.

Severus did not reply. He did not draw his wand. The only thing he did was to stare at the emerald-eyed boy in front of him. Harry gazed back, becoming very perplexed as time passed and still Snape made no move to respond or to defend himself.

"The hell?" Harry muttered, lowering his wand slightly.

Harry was beginning to get creeped out by the elder wizard's silence. He took a step to right and Severus followed. Harry took two steps to the left and again Severus was barring his path. Harry broke into run trying to get up the hill but Severus caught him with his arm.

"Would you move?" Harry shot angrily. This was getting ridiculous.

"It is a trap," Severus whispered almost inaudibly.

"Why the bloody hell should I listen to you," Harry snarled.

"He will not win," Severus continued, suddenly shoving something into the boy's palm.

Harry looked down to find a locket, a very heavy locket residing in his hand. It bore the crest of Slytherin. The final Horcrux. Harry had not been successful in locating it, even after searching Grimmauld Place inside and out numerous times. Not wanting to know how or where Snape got, Harry backed up a pace and looked into Snape eyes. It was then that Harry understood. He was not to destroy it yet. It was the dark Lord's final link to mortality. The boy wizard slid it into his pocket and raised wand.

"Better make it look believable," he muttered.

"Yes I suppose we must," the former Professor replied, drawing his own wand.

"I suggest you just kill me Potter," he continued, void of emotion.

"I'm not going to kill you," Harry whispered.

"I'm going to make you suffer you sick fuck," he hissed, and with the flourish of his wand Severus lay on the grass covered in blood.

Harry walked away, rejoining the flying spells.

She had watched it happen. The woman had seen the transfer of an object. She had watched as the boy effortlessly brought the man to his demise. She couldn't say she was sorry for hi. She had never fully trusted him. Her ears pricked up as she saw a magenta stream of light coming her way. Unfortunately she was fast enough. She let out a painstaking scream as she felt the target being hit. She watched in horror as the robes of her left arm disintegrated. Next she whimpered as the flesh from above her elbow began to blister and hiss. She fell to her knees as she witnessed the power that was consuming her very being. In mere minutes she was left with singed and bloody stump. Her wand lay on the ground, covered in dripping blood.

She lay herself down on the grass and closed her dark eyes. She listened to the sounds of screams and bodies falling and colliding around her. It almost consoled her, almost. Very slowly, almost as if in slow motion she began to feel the grass grow wet against upper arm. She let the crystalline tears glide down her pale cheeks. She would not cry out in pain. She would not give in.

"Ah!" Hermione shrieked in pain as she was consumed by the Cruciartus Curse.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted, sending full body bind at her attacker.

The redhead caught her in his strong arms. She looked up a him, pain filling her eyes as her breathing became ragged and shallow. It was not the first time she'd been hit. She could not take much more of this. He gently lay her down on the grass before returning to the fight. Weakly, she reached up and caught his sleeve, pulling him down to her paling blue lips.

"Draco," she whispered before coughing and groaning.

Ron knew what he had to do. He advanced on Hermione's attacker; Draco Malfoy. Ron stared down at the blond, unable to move. Wordlessly, Ron condemned his enemy to the same fate as Severus. Moving away, Ron took a deep breath.

Finally, the time had come for Harry to dispose of the remaining Horcrux. He pulled it from hit pocket, tossing it above his head. It glinted in the near moonlight as it shattered in thousands of jagged pieces. Several landed on Harry's cheeks, leaving small burn marks. He winced at the pain but moved on up the hill once more. This time he was not intercepted or distracted by anyone. Everyone was down below struggling to continue. The famous wizard came to stand across from the very being who had plagued him for the past 7 years.

"It ends now," he whispered, fighting very hard to keep the smirk from his face.

"So confident Harry," Voldemort hissed, raising his wand.

"It really is a pity I have to kill you," he added with a distorted chuckle.

"You're nothing. Not anymore. You are no different than anyone on that field," Harry replied calmly.

With that Harry unleashed a tremendous amount of power, pulling from all of the positive emotions he had ever felt, conjuring a sort of patronus as it were. Voldemort flew backwards, his snake-like face contorted into the most hideous grimace of pain. Harry caught him before he hit the ground. Keeping his wand level Harry rotated the slain creature and began walking down the hill. Upon reaching the foot of the sloped land, he proceeded to the center of the commotion. A small cluster of Death Eaters was bunched together. Harry flicked his wrist, sending their precious Dark Lord's limp body at their feet.

"Give up. You have lost," Harry said, making himself heard over all of the noise.

At this everyone stopped. The Death Eaters stared down at their master, cold as stone and as mortal as any of them. Several of them turned their wands upon themselves, falling at their own hands. The remainder, the proud stood their ground. They would not take the easy way out. They would fight to the bitter end. The remaining Order members began to cheer as a few wary Aurors advanced on the shrinking circles of dark practitioners, taking them into custody. Harry joined the rest of survivors and stared out at the battlefield, strewn with bodies, some dead, some still alive. With a tired sigh, Harry led his friends and comrades back towards Hogwarts. They world was safe once more.

Late into the morning, faint moans could be heard echoing from all areas of the field. Bellatrix was awakened by a sudden scream, coming from her own lips. Her body, slowly perishing had awakened her, showing her she was not to be saved. She would die unknown to those she called enemy and those she called friend.

As with any war, many casualties are not known. It is hard to associate charred body remains with the person they once were. So, like many wars before it, this one erected a monument, of the Unknown Fallen. Many would be buried there. The unidentifiable bodies of Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy, the broken body of Bellatrix LeStrange and the blue tinged frame of Hermione Granger. War is a truly wretched occurrence. These and many more were simply the wounded, fallen and forgotten among the departed.