Title: Omnious Fate
Author: mic
Warnings: slight angst, hints of slash, a little dark
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Summary: In dark times, Fate cannot be stopped.
Disclaimer: Are you gonna make me state the obvious. I only own this little piece of fiction. I don't own the original characters.
Author's Notes: The idea for this story came from a poem I read, obviously I don't own that either.
-And what have I invested in interpreting disfocus for chaos? This threat: the only lesson is to wait.
-Silent in the circuit of the year, speech is in excess of what I want to say or believe. On the dismal air I sketch my own restraint, waking reflexively, instant to instant. The senses center, the moment of definition, the point under such pressure it extrudes a future and a past I apprehend only as a chill, extends the overlay of injury with some retentive, tenous disease, the refuse of brick-and-mortar grinding violence. How much easier all machination were such polarized perception to produce so gross an ideal.
--Samuel R. Delaney, Dahlgren
The sky outside was dark, the stars failing to cast their light through the darkness, even the moon seemed to be struggling to cast a weak light through the deep shadows that covered the grounds outside the castle.
The nights had been dark for a long time now, before the final battle even started shadows had begun to take over everything, even during the day they would still linger, leaving a cold feeling even when you were standing in the sunshine.
In one of the many rooms in the castle emerald eyes watched the moon as if checking that it was still there, still winning the fight against the darkness, needing the reassurance that the shadows hadn't won, at least not yet.
A small glimmer of light could be seen where the little amount of illumination from the moon that remained was reflected in the lake. It gave just enough light to help distinguish the last remnants of the battle that had ended only mere hours before. The bodies had been removed but if you looked close enough you could still see the signs of death. After so much fighting it wasn't hard to recognise them.
And afterwards there was always a familiar face less, every battle another friend struck down, every day the fear of losing someone close to you, losing the person you love most. So many killed, both sides getting smaller and smaller and still the end not in sight. Even more injured, muffled sounds from the infirmary could be heard down the hallway outisde, by morning more will have been lost. So much blood that the edges of the water turned red.
Those that had managed to get through the fight huddled together, trying not to think of what could be coming tomorrow, trying to believe in a positive future no matter how impossible it might seem. Trying to keep faith even if Fate seemed to be trying to destroy you. All were grouped together in the Great Hall, clinging together in despair, all except two.
A slender figure stood in the shadows by the door to the darkened room, silver eyes trained on the only other person in the room, keeping a silent watch, unnoticed by the slightly smaller green eyed youth that was still by the window. The one that has isolated himself from the other people present, hiding from their expectations, their silent plea for him to end this thing, to be the hero. The emerald eyes remained fixed on the moon, their owner noting the other prensence in his room but not acknowleding. Only focused on the thoughts running in his head, thoughts of what passed and of the future, that was becoming more unsure with every passing day with the foreboding of death hanging over them, and being the foremost thought in everyone's mind. Wondering what end would befall him, if it was truly his fate to be the salvation of wizards or if it was a fool's hope that would only end in death.
I don't know what my death will be, yet death seems to be the only thing left for me, maybe for us all. I saw the lake get stained as blood flowed from dying bodies floating on the water's surface. Occasionally when you turned your back a body would be gone when you returned to look for it, dragged down by one of the creatures in the water.
If I'd die on the lake and my body fell into the water, the creatures would come. Kappa, Grindylows, all circeling around me. Swimming around my corpse they's ask which one of them would get to devour the body sinking beneath the surface.
I wouldn't hear it.
I saw the torture inflicted by dark wizards, a simple Killing Curse a distant memory in a war ruled by vengeance. Bodies set alight by fire. Flames consuming them as hair and clothing burned and flesh melted. Screams of agony ringing in your ears, to linger forever in a permanent nightmare. The helplesness felt for the inability to stop the flames, wether with spells or with water as the victims cast themselves into the lake in a desperate attempt to stop the burning fire.
If I'd die in the fire, flames burning my clothes and my skin, hot ashes falling on my body as it turns black, people would shout as they try to extinguish the scalding red flames.
I wouldn't hear it.
War takes the lives of so many people. I've seen the deaths of comrades, friends, been the cause of so many lost souls on the other side. Some dying as heroes, but most as nameless sacrifices, remembered only by their loved ones, those they left behind, or often not at all as there are few people left to mourn.
If I died, people would remember a fighter. They'd come to see the grave of one that fought for their freedom, crying and mourning a young hero. And after many years passed they would still come to see a historic fighter from old legendary battles that are long lost from memory, whispering of a brave saviour.
I wouldn't hear it.
If the light perished and the dark side won the darkness would spread, finally covering everything in their stifling shadows. Creatures of the dark would run free everywhere. The only thing left in the nights would be the whimpers and cries of innocents unfortunate enough to survive for now in the dark and the sound of death as the world is cast in terror.
I wouldn't hear it.
I've seen many people die, so many lives ended. Cemeteries filled with bodies, so many deaths, so many lives taken in these times, in this life.
If I would die, I'd be buried among them, another corpse put to rest in the ground.
And you would visit, feet slightly crushing the grass as you make your way among the many stones and flowers. Your shimmering grey eyes coming to rest on my stone, slender fingers gently tracing the carved letters. Your soft exhale of breath joining the wind running through your silver hair as you whisper my name in a voice filled with longing.
I will hear it.
I will hear you.
I will...
Somewhere inside the castle two figures remain in a small room watching a weak moon being reflected on the water of the lake, drawing comfort from each other no matter how small it might be, as they wait to see what the future might bring. See if they might live on.
Fate cannot be avoided, it can't be defied. What time intends will be, what Fate commands, will be. Despite our wishes, intentions and attempts, we can't escape it. It's no use thinking over all the possibilities. We do what we can and hope until we've done our duty and Fate takes us away. The past can't be changed and the future can't be stopped. This is life, this is what we are.